24. Axel
Axel
“ S o, Axel. How do you know my daughter?”
Wrinley quickly pops her head between the seats to silence her father. “Dad! Please don’t interrogate him. He’s Arabella’s brother. We’re just friends.” I cock my head to glare at her because we are definitely not friends.
“How come you’ve never mentioned him?” I’ll give it to him. He’s not stupid. “You’re at the house almost every week and this is the first time I’ve even heard you say his name.”
A squawk comes from behind me as she no doubt searches for a response.
I glance in the rearview mirror and watch her face contort, furrowed brows and all before she eventually lets out a loud huff and plops back in her seat.
She’s been in my truck a few times already and this is the first time her post traumatic demons haven’t hitched a ride with her.
Fear looks good on her, but that panic can take a fucking hike. Good fucking riddance.
“Right place, right time is all,” I tell him.
“Ah, I see,” he nods. “Well, thanks for bringing my girl to me. I worry about her.”
“Dad, I already told you not to worry about me. You’re clearly not worrying enough about yourself,” she chimes in. “We’ve talked about this so many times before.”
“Honey, I’m fine. The doctor said it was a minor blockage and now that they put a stint in me, I’m good as new.”
“Stent, with an e. Not stint. Stent,” she corrects and it takes work to stifle the chuckle that threatens to erupt at her insistence on correcting him over one dumb fucking letter.
“Po-tay-to, po-tay-to, sweetie,” he chirps. “Or is it to-may-to, to-may-to?”
“Neither of those are right,” Wrinley groans. “You literally just said the same exact words twice both times.”
She’s not angry with him, just frustrated, but the simplicity and ease of their back and forth banter catches me off guard and the urge to jump out of my own moving vehicle is overwhelming. If we weren’t so close to his house, I might actually consider it.
“I know I said it already, but thank you, son, for being there for my daughter. Aside from your sister, I don’t think she’s got any real friends she can count on.
” He pauses and just when I think his speech is over, he speaks again.
“If there’s ever anything you need, I’ll do anything in my power to see that you get it. Whatever it is.”
Not really sure what to say, I choose to simply nod.
“Unless you need to hide a body. Don’t come to me for any dumbass shit like that or we’ll have an entirely different conversation on our hands.”
I nod again, smiling because what the actual fuck kind of ironic bullshit is this? I’m getting the dad talk I didn’t ask for and the one thing he brings up is the worst of the many illegal things I’ve done for his daughter.
“I guess I’ll have to ask my best friend to help bury that guy then,” I reply smugly.
He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t even look at me.
He just sits there, stoic and surly. I can hear Wrinley’s heavy breath in the backseat, each inhale deeper than the last. When I glance in the rearview mirror, her eyes are wide and I can see the vein in her neck pulsing at high-speed from here.
I know I don’t make jokes that often and this wasn’t one, but fuck… they don’t know that.
Then he laughs.
And Wrinley follows close behind.
And I’ve never been more grateful to be pulling into a driveway as I am right now.
I need to get them out of my car and get the fuck somewhere else–anywhere else.
I need to punch something–someone–to rid myself of some of this energy buzzing through my veins at the sheer decency of this entire ride.
My skin feels tight and the walls of my truck are closing in on me.
“Are you okay, son?” my little trainwreck’s father asks. “You’re looking a little pale.”
Why does he keep calling me son? I’m not his fucking son. I’m no one’s son.
“He’s fine, Dad. Let’s get you out of the truck and into bed so you can rest.” Her words are tentative and small again, pulling me out of my own little funk as I shift into park.
I should help her get him in the house. Why? I don’t know. It feels like the right thing to do. Instead, I stay rooted in my seat white knuckling the steering wheel and wishing I had an outlet to channel some of the storm starting to rage again inside me.
“Will you wait here?” I look out my window and she’s there, staring up at me from the ground with her big, round puppy dog eyes and pouty lips. “Until I get him into bed? I’ll come back out once he’s situated.”
“Are we still in a truce, Wrinley?”
“Yeah, I think I need to be for a little longer, if you don’t mind.”
“I’ll wait.”
It takes her all of fifteen minutes to wander back out the door.
She looks tired.
Like she hasn’t slept in days and it makes me regret agreeing to wait when she should clearly be resting too.
She folds her arms across her chest in a way that makes her look a little smaller than usual, as opposed to her usual larger than life personality.
It pulls at something inside me to poke and prod at her so she’ll fight with me, just to see her stand a little taller again.
“That was fast.”
“Yeah, the hospital gave me some Ativan for him. Said he may be anxious after the procedure, but he needs to rest. He should be out for a while.”
“Good. You should get some rest, too. You look like shit, Wrinkley.” She doesn’t miss a beat to shoot me a death glare at the use of her least favorite nickname. Telling her she looks like shit probably didn’t help, but it did the trick. It has her perking up, right in front of my eyes.
“We’re still on neutral ground, asshole.” There she is. “But, I was wondering…”
I quirk a brow watching her fiddle with the hem of her shirt as she tries to put the right words together.
“Stay with me?”
Wrinley
“Stay with you?” he parrots.
This was easily the second scariest day of my life and I’m closer than I’d like to admit to a full on mental breakdown. That’s the last thing dad needs. He needs me to hold my shit together and this is the only way I can think to do it.
“Yeah. Since we’re in a truce and all, I was hoping you’d stay with me and maybe pretend like we aren’t.”
Fuck.
My words aren’t coming out right and he probably thinks I’m a total basket case. Honestly, I kind of feel like one, so that assessment wouldn’t be a stretch.
“Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”
“I don’t know. Do you think I’m asking you to do depraved things and to be mean to me?
Because if that’s what you think I’m asking, then you’d be right.
” I spit the words out so fast, I’m not sure if he got them all.
“You see, I’m done feeling and thinking for today.
I need you to take it all away so I can just be in the moment with you and forget about all of this . ”
I can’t tell if he’s staring at me like that because he thinks I’m insane, or if he’s actually contemplating what I’m asking.
“Why me? You know… since we hate each other and all.”
“I don’t know,” I admit. It’s the truth.
I can’t explain why I need this from him.
I just do. “Maybe I just need something familiar. The only thing I’m any good at is fighting with you, so I’m begging you to do your worst. Be fucking mean to me so I can get back to my baseline of hating you.
Then we can go back to our regularly scheduled programming tomorrow. ”
The fucker is still staring at me. I know what I’m asking of him, but we’re already on this weird, fucked up road together. Why not make it a little weirder?
He pushes those slutty glasses back up the bridge of his nose and runs his huge hand through his dark hair, releasing a sigh.
Even with him sitting high up in that cab glaring down at me like I’m a mile below him, I can see his pupils dilate so wide, I can hardly see the golden caramel color I love so much anymore.
He wants this just as much as I do.
“I’ll let you call me whatever filthy names you want,” I offer, trying to sweeten the pot. I want this so badly, it hurts.
He hops out of the truck and swiftly cages me against the door so fast I’m surprised I don’t get whiplash.
Then he leans in close, his mouth right up against my ear.
“You already craving my cock so badly, you’re ready to get on your knees and beg for it like a good girl?
I know how hard it is for you to be good, little trainwreck. You gonna do everything I tell you?”
My thighs clench and my pussy pulses at the filthy image he’s portraying, although I have zero doubt that there’s no real limit to the filth this man can think up.
He’s constantly pissing me off, but I’ve never felt more free than when I was on my knees for him, gagging on his dick and more focused on every scrap of oxygen I could get than any thoughts rattling around in my head.
Other than the time he took my virginity in the back of his truck in the pouring rain where anyone could see.
I shouldn’t want this from him, but I do.
I need it.
It’s like his particular brand of fucked up is the only way my nervous system knows how to self-regulate these days. I don’t particularly like the man standing in front of me, leering at me—taunting me—but he’s clearly a necessary evil and I’ve done enough thinking.
“Yes,” I answer in a whisper that comes out more like a moan. “I’ll be good.”
He chuckles and runs his tongue, ever so slowly along the outer edge of my earlobe. “Oh baby, I highly doubt that. I don’t think that’s in your DNA, but it’s okay. I’ll make you behave.”
He steps back and my body instantly misses the scorching heat of his. “I have some things to take care of, but I’ll be back in an hour. Be ready to eat some pillow. Don’t want daddy waking up to his daughter being debased down the hall.”
Fuck.