Chapter 40
Chapter
Forty
AXEL
Being in a cop car feels unreal. It was only six or seven hours ago that we were in the warehouse, fighting for our lives.
Now I’m squeezed into the back seat with Jo beside me, the city rushing past the window in a blur of neon and headlights.
I will have to go and collect my car tomorrow; the police said I didn’t look to be in any fit state to drive myself anywhere earlier, and I think that was a good call.
My hands are still shaking from the adrenaline that still keeps flooding my system, even though every instinct tells me that we’re now safe.
“Are you ok?” I ask Jo again.
“I’m fine,” she says. Her voice sounds tired and spaced out.
I turn to her, trying to catch her eye through the window reflection. “Are you sure? Because …”
“I’m fine, Axel. Stop worrying. And don’t ever jump in front of me again. Seriously.”
My chest tightens. “I’ll always put your life before my own. Always. I don’t care what it costs me.”
She swallows and looks at me, then she looks away, letting the silence settle between us.
I don’t press her. I just glance out of the window at the city sliding past, the lights glinting off the rain-slicked streets.
My mind replays the warehouse scene over and over again: Sheldon’s cold, dead eyes, the gun in his hand, that strange smile, Sheldon’s brain and blood splattered on the rough concrete.
I wonder again, what had gone through his mind when he smiled at me like that?
It was almost peaceful. Acceptance, but it was also beautiful.
The thought makes me shudder. I know I will remember that smile ‘til the day I die.
But for now, all that matters is that she’s safe.
It’s been hours since the police whisked me off to give a statement.
Jo went to the hospital first, just to be checked over.
It was confirmed that there was nothing seriously wrong, just the cut on her temple and stress.
But seeing her finally walk into the police station afterwards, upright and alert, was like a weight lifting off my chest. I could finally breathe again, even if it was only a little bit.
I hail a cab and climb in.
“Axel?” she says suddenly. I look over at her. “How did you know where I was?” Her eyes are sharp and curious all at once.
I grin a little, despite myself. “Betty suspected something was off. Sheldon had called the house completely drunk last night, and something he said or his tone gave her a bad feeling and made her suspicious. She wanted to warn you, but your cab was already there, and she felt silly in case she was wrong, so she planted a little tracking device on you.”
She gapes at me. “Betty?” Her voice goes strangely high-pitched for a second. “Betty put a tracker on me?”
“Yes,” I say, trying to keep my tone light.
She huffs and leans back, crossing her arms. “I can’t believe it.”
“She’s brave,” I say. “And clever.” I glance at her. “She saved you.”
Jo doesn’t reply. She has gone back to staring out of the window, and the rest of the journey passes by in silence.
Finally, the house comes into view, and the cab slows down as it reaches the front door.
Jo barely waits for the car to come to a stop before she flings the door open and bolts out before I can even react.
“Jo, wait!” I shout, throwing my hand toward her. But she’s fast, a blur against the concrete.
I yank out my wallet and throw a wad of cash at the driver.
“Keep the change!” I shout over my shoulder as I scramble out of the cab.
The driver yelps when he sees how much money I have thrown at him. “Thank you, sir,” he calls after me.
I barely hear him as I sprint after Jo, my heart pounding, the adrenaline thrumming through my veins once more.
My shoes slap against the pavement. Jo had a lead, but I am faster than her, and I know I am catching up quickly.
I have to stop her before she reaches Betty.
I get why she’s pissed off that Betty crossed the line and put a tracker on her, but I have to make her see that Betty saved her life today.
She doesn’t need a scolding; she needs a raise.
I burst through the kitchen door and stop short.
I had it all wrong. Jo isn’t yelling. She’s wrapped her arms tightly around Betty.
So tight I fear the woman’s ribs might crack.
But if it’s painful, Betty doesn’t show it.
She just hugs her back and lets Jo keep holding her as if she’s never going to let go.
Jo’s shoulders shake with sobs, and her thanks are muffled against Betty’s shoulder. Betty looks emotional herself.
“Jo …” I start, but she doesn’t hear me.
She’s completely absorbed in the moment, letting her gratitude spill out.
I glance at Betty. She’s frozen, a mixture of relief and true love on her face.
I can’t help but smile, then step back quietly, letting the two of them have their moment.
I need a shower anyway. There is no way to clean up what I’ve seen today, but I can wash away the grime and dirt of the day, the warehouse, the fear.
They don’t even notice me slipping away. And honestly, I don’t want them to.
Finally, for the first time in hours, I exhale fully. We’re home. She’s safe. And for now, that’s all that matters.