Chapter 27
My eyes snap open in the dark.
For a moment, I lie still, heart racing, trying to figure out what woke me. The house is quiet. Too quiet. Until I hear it. The faint creak of someone on the stairs, then slow, deliberate footsteps in the hall.
I freeze, barely breathing. Please keep walking. Please don’t—
The doorknob rattles.
My entire body locks up. I want to move, to run, to scream, but I can’t. I’m frozen. The click of the lock makes my blood run cold, and the door creaks open on its hinges.
Please, let this not be real.
I squeeze my eyes shut as footsteps circle the bed. My blanket is yanked back, and cold air hits my skin like ice. I feel his presence, looming and close, before I feel the press of his hand on my cheek.
“I love you, Little Lina,” he whispers, breath reeking of whiskey. “Why are you scared?”
“I-I’m not s-scared.” But my body trembles with fear, betraying every word.
“Liar,” he snarls. His spittle hits my skin. I still don’t move. I know better. I’ve learned.
“Please,” I whisper.
“You want to make it right?” His voice is low and hungry, like he’s offering a favor instead of demanding something sick. “Show me how sorry you are.”
My heart stops. I hear the sound of shifting fabric. A zipper. My stomach rolls, but I stay still. Still and quiet. That’s the safest way. He always said it was better if I didn’t fight.
The meaty sound of his hand jerking himself, rough and fast, echoes. I stare at the ceiling. I count the cracks in the paint. I try to float away. Somewhere far.
I barely feel it when he grabs me. Exposes me. I’ve left my body by then.
The room fades to static. Then heat. Then cold.
It’s almost over. Almost.
Until it’s not. Until he’s muttering praise and poison in the same breath, and striking me when I don’t respond fast enough.
“Thank me,” he hisses. “Be grateful.”
“Th-thank you,” I stutter, clutching my smarting cheek.
He slams the door behind him, footsteps retreating down the stairs like distant thunder.
I sit frozen for a second, then rip off my shirt, my fingers shaking so badly I can hardly grasp the hem.
My stomach churns as I scrub at my skin, trying to wipe away the shame, the scent, the weight of what just happened. Of what always happens.
“Princess!”
I freeze, blinking.
That voice is different. Softer. Familiar in a way that slows my racing heart.
“Princess, wake up! It’s just a dream!”
The room begins to change. My once lavender walls blur into white. My childhood dresser becomes a sleek, modern one. There’s no spilt whiskey, no cracked window, no monster in the corner.
Axel is standing in front of me, wide-eyed, real.
“Axel!” I sob, launching myself into his arms. He catches me without hesitation, wrapping me in warmth and solidity.
“I’m here. You’re safe,” he says, rubbing slow circles into my back. “It was just a nightmare. You’re home.”
I bury my face into his neck before I realize… Oh God, I’m not wearing a shirt.
Horrified, I scramble back, crossing my arms over my chest. “C-can you hand me my shirt?”
Axel’s already reaching for it without looking at me, holding it out with careful hands. “Here.”
I yank it on quickly, throat tight with shame even though I know it’s irrational. Axel is one person who won’t judge me. Not for this.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t see anything,” he says gently, keeping his eyes on the far wall. “And even if I had, I’d never—Lina, I respect you too much. You know that, right?”
I nod, though the lump in my throat makes it hard to speak. I sit cross-legged under the covers, trying to catch my breath.
He turns back to face me, giving me time, giving me space.
“You want me to stay?” he asks.
“Yes. Please.”
“Scoot over.”
I give Axel room to crawl in beside me. He stays on his side, dutiful and quiet, but his steady presence calms me.
“I’m sorry I woke you,” I whisper into the dark.
“I’d wake up every night if it meant chasing your nightmares away.”
I don’t respond, because what could I possibly say to that?
Axel always knows the exact right thing, and he says it without expectation.
His heart is so big, so unguarded, it terrifies me a little.
If I thought I were capable of loving someone, really loving someone, it would be him.
But I’m still too damaged to offer that kind of love to anyone.
He deserves so much more than the broken pieces I have to give.
We lie in silence, but I know he’s still awake. His breathing is too focused, too careful.
“Hey, Princess?” His voice is soft.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t mean to pry, but... it’s bothering me.”
I turn toward him. Even in the dark, I can see the question in his eyes.
“You were saying Joe’s name in your sleep. Crying.” He pauses. “Is he the one that hurt you?”
The question hangs there like smoke. I reach out and find his hand in the sheets, needing the contact while I decide what to say.
“Yes,” I finally whisper. “He hurt me constantly. It started with him hitting my mom, but when that wasn’t enough, he turned on me.
Sometimes he’d wait up for me to come home.
Other times, he’d wake me in the middle of the night just to remind me I was powerless.
But he was smart. Never where people could see.
Always just enough pressure to hurt without leaving marks.
And even when he slipped up and did bruise us, no one questioned the beloved sheriff.
Ironically, he arrested men for the same things he did to us almost every day. ”
Axel squeezes my hand. His grip grounding.
“I’m so sorry, Lina. I can’t pretend to understand what that was like. But if you ever need someone to talk to, or just someone to sit in the dark with, I’m here. Always. I’ll keep your secrets. No judgment. No questions you don’t want to answer.”
“I know. Thank you,” I murmur.
Sleep pulls at me again. I should send him back to his room, but selfishly, I don’t want him to go. He offered to chase the nightmares away, and I want him to.
“Love you, Lina,” he whispers after a moment.
“Love you, too,” I whisper back, a small smile tugging at my lips. It’s not romantic. Not yet. It’s the kind of love born from surviving something hard together. A quiet promise in the dark. In that moment, I want nothing more than for Axel to always be part of my life. Whatever shape that takes.