6. Axel
CHAPTER 6
AXEL
Two hours at the gym, and I’m still no closer to figuring her out. I move between sets on the machines, but my focus keeps drifting to the one thing on my mind.
Eva.
The name sticks in my head like a splinter I can’t dig out.
I finish racking the weights, letting out a sharp breath as the final one slides in to its spot. My phone buzzes in my pocket, pulling me back to the moment. But when I pull it, I didn’t expect to see this.
Carter: We need you at the warehouse. Now.
The warehouse. That word alone makes my chest tighten. We only use it when things go sideways. Last time we called an emergency there, it ended with two families dismantled and a bloody mess on our hands. I don’t bother changing or stopping to grab my things. My motorbike keys and helmet are in the office, and that’s all I need. Heading out of the gym, I glance around the empty lot. It’s currently 8pm and Boston’s quiet at this hour, but quiet doesn’t mean safe. Old instincts kick in, and I scan for anything that feels off.
Once I’m sure the coast is clear, I cross the street toward my bike parked by the curb. As I step onto the side walk, a flash of white catches my eye near the gutter. A crumpled scrap of paper flutters faintly in the breeze. I don’t know why I pick it up, but I do. “Always some idiot leaving trash behind,” I mutter, shoving it into my pocket without a second glance.
The bike is right where I left it, gleaming under the dim street light. Swinging a leg over, I settle into the seat, the weight of the machine grounding me. I flick the kickstand up with a practiced motion and grab my helmet, sliding it on until the familiar snugness presses against my temples. With a twist of the key, the engine rumbles to life, low and guttural, the sound cutting through the night air. For a second, it’s the only thing I hear, drowning out the nagging questions buzzing in my head.
I pull out my phone, typing a quick reply with one hand.
Axel: On my way.
The message sends, and I shove the phone into my jacket. Another glance around confirms I’m alone. My fingers grip the handlebars, steady and firm, as I lean forward and give the throttle a twist. The bike surges beneath me, a beast unleashed, the tires kissing the pavement as I roar down the street. The wind cuts sharp against my uncovered skin, but it’s a welcome distraction.
Whatever Carter needs, it’s big. And whatever it is, I’ll handle it. I always do.
The ride to the warehouse doesn’t bring the clarity I need. My thoughts race, sifting through every possible reason for the emergency meeting. Ever since we left Chicago and set up in Boston, we’ve worked to stay under the radar. No bloodshed. No chaos. Just a quiet existence—or as close to one as we can manage. Something must have gone wrong.
As I round the final corner, I see Carter pacing outside the warehouse, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his jacket, while Antonio lingers nearby, watching him. I park my bike beside Carter’s car and pull off my helmet. Before I can even speak, Carter’s by my side, his eyes darting to every shadow like he’s expecting trouble.
“Brothers,” I say, breaking the silence, my tone calm despite the tension knotting my stomach. The warehouse looms in a secluded area, barely illuminated by the flickering streetlights. Shadows stretch across the cracked pavement, and the dark sky above casts an eerie feeling over everything.
“Let’s take this inside shou-” I start, but Carter’s already heading for the door, practically shoving it open. I glance at Antonio, but as usual, his face is unreadable. Ever since an incident that happened just after he turned eighteen, he hasn’t uttered a single word. It’s as if that moment stole his voice, leaving him trapped in a silence that speaks louder than words ever could.
Whatever happened between him and our father remains locked away, a mystery he’s not ready to share. I’ve stopped pushing, knowing it will only make it worse. When he’s ready, he’ll tell me. The steel door groans shut behind us as we step inside. The air is cool and stale while the lights above buzz faintly.
The tension thickens as I take in the scene. Flynn and Carter are already sitting at the table, their faces tight with concern. Ant steps aside to let me pass as he locks the door and moves to his usual seat at the table in the center of the room. I nod at each of them in turn.
“Flynn. Carter. Ant.” My voice carries across the space as I speak as their leader.
We stopped calling Ant, Antonio when he turned 15, he claimed it was an old man’s name, and to be honest. It kind of was.
I take my seat at the head of the table, the one that once belonged to our father. The last time we were all here, it wasn’t for a meeting. It was after everything fell apart in Chicago. That night ended in bloodshed and chaos, the taste of betrayal still fresh in our mouths. We swore to leave that life behind. To rebuild.
I grip the edge of the table, steadying myself. “First off, Gunnar. What have we told him?”
“He’s at the new semester football game. He’ll be gone for hours.” Flynn replies bluntly. Typical Flynn like always, straight to the point. No bullshit.
This is my first official meeting as head of the family since we started over. My father’s words echo in my mind, It’s showtime, son. You have to be the leader they need. Not the leader they want.
I look at each of them before landing my eyes on Carter.
“The meeting is now in session,” I announce. “Carter, present your reason immediately.” Carter shifts in his seat, his nervous energy obvious as his legs bounce against the table. His gaze flicks between us, never settling for long.
“Well… After I left your office earlier, I went to Ant for help tracking down Eva,” he begins, his voice tight. I nod for him to continue.
“We ran her plates, but nothing came up in the DMV. It was strange, so we dug deeper. Ant pulled her image from the gym’s security cameras and ran facial recognition.” He pauses, his hands clenching into fists on the table. His knuckles turn white as he takes a shaky breath.
“She’s a private investigator, Axel. A fucking PI.”
The words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating.
A PI?
My mind spins. We’ve spent our entire lives being cautious, always a step ahead of anyone who might be watching. How could we have missed this? “Are you sure?” I glance at Ant, who gives a slow nod, confirming everything Carter just revealed is true.
My chair scrapes against the floor as I shove it back to stand, the noise loud in the now silent room. I start pacing, my thoughts spiralling. They’re all looking to me for answers, but the truth is, I don’t have them. Not yet. Flynn’s voice cuts through the chaos in my mind, stopping me in my tracks. “What do we do, Axel?” He asks, his voice tense.
I stare at him, words failing me, until I remember the white piece of paper I found earlier tonight where Eva’s car had been parked. My hand reaches into my pocket, hoping it’s still a piece of trash.
It’s a fucking photograph of Carter.
Rage surges through me at the thought of her walking into the gym, playing the innocent stranger while she’s been tracking us the whole time… It’s enough to make my blood burn. I slam the photo onto the table, the sound echoing in the room. My brothers flinch, their eyes snapping to me. I grip the table’s edge, my knuckles aching as I lean forward.
“Tell me everything you know,” I demand, my voice low and dangerous.
Carter swallows hard, his gaze darting to the photo before meeting mine. “We don’t know why she’s here yet, but it’s not a coincidence. Someone sent her.”
I nod slowly, my mind already spinning with possibilities. Whoever sent her made a mistake. She’s stepped into our world now, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this.
Nobody fucks with my family and gets away with it.
We spend the next few hours combing through everything Carter and Ant uncovered. Ant, our silent genius, has been our go-to for anything tech-related ever since he discovered his knack for hacking into government databases as a teenager. He might not speak, but his ability to find information speaks every word.
On the monitor, I watch the security footage of Eva returning to her car after leaving the gym. My chest tightens as I see it. A small white object flutters to the ground as she opens her door.
The object I found. The photograph of Carter.
I’d hoped. Prayed that it had been left after she’d driven away, but this footage kills that hope instantly. My jaw clenches as the implications set in.
“Do we know who she works for yet?” I ask, breaking the heavy silence.
“No, not yet,” Flynn responds.
A frustrated groan escapes me. We’re back to square one.
“But,” Flynn adds, his lips curling into a small smile, “we do have her address.” My eyes snap to the screen as they bring up a map with her location pinned.
“How far?” I ask, my pulse quickening at the thought of seeing her in her space, her world.
“Thirty minutes, give or take,” Carter answers quietly.
Since showing them the photo I found outside the gym he’s hardly said a word, suffering in silence as he tries to work out what this all means. He’s been withdrawn ever since I showed them the photo, the weight of the discovery pressing on him harder than the rest of us. I glance at him, making a mental note to send him to the safe house with Gunnar until this is sorted. There’s a reason Eva had his photo, and I’m determined to find out why.
“I’ll go tonight. Carter, you’ll head to Haverhill with Ant. Flynn, take Gunnar there after the football game. Don’t tell him anything. I don’t want him pulled into this,” I announce.
“I’ll come with you.” Flynn says, getting up to grab his keys.
“No, you go to Gunnar.” I say firmly, making my decision final.
Flynn stands, reaching for his keys. “I’ll come with you.”
“No.” My tone leaves no room for argument. “You go to Gunnar. That’s an order.”
I see the irritation flash across Flynn’s face. Ever since we were kids, we’ve been on the front lines together, handling whatever our father threw at us. But tonight is different. I can’t risk him hurting Eva before I get the chance to speak to her.
Once the meeting ends, Ant takes Carter to Haverhill while Flynn leaves to pick up Gunnar. The best cover story we could come up with was a bee infestation that required fumigation. Not the most convincing lie, but as long as Gunnar has his PS5, food, and phone, he’ll settle in without asking too many questions.
By the time I check my watch, it’s 9:12 p.m. The roads in Boston are still busy, but on my bike, I can navigate through the traffic with ease. I head towards my bike outside the warehouse seeing the body of it gleam under the dim streetlights, the rain drops giving it a shimmer against the black and gold. I mount it with ease, the familiar hum of the engine purring to life beneath me. As I rev the throttle, the vibrations help ease my body. Without a second thought I shift it into gear and speed off, cutting through the night with determination.
Within a few minutes I’m hitting the freeway following the directions on my phone that’s mounted in front of me on the bike. I weave through the traffic as my clothes hold the rain captive. My mind drifts to Eva, imagining her sitting behind me, her arms wrapped around my waist, squealing with excitement as we ride together. The thought fuels my determination to find out the truth.
Twenty minutes later, I pull onto her street and spot her car parked outside a block of apartments, just as the map showed.
Good job, boys.
Parking a few cars down, I scan the building, my eyes locking on her silhouette in the window Ant showed me earlier. My heart skips a beat as I watch her. I quickly turn to see what she might be looking at, but a row of houses obstructs my view. A sound draws my attention and I turn to see a door opening. A man steps out with his dog, and I seize the opportunity to gain access. Pushing myself to jog, I reach the door just as it’s closing but I stick my foot in to stop it.
Making sure no one is around I quietly push it open before slipping through. I pull the photograph of Carter out of my jacket pocket to see her apartment number scribbled on the back.
96B.
Using the guide on the bottom floor, It guides me towards the 6th floor. I walk over to the lift at the end of the corridor only to be greeted with an ‘out of service’ sign.
Of fucking course.
Stepping back through the badly lit lobby, my eyes scan the area for the stairs. Finding the mailboxes, I look for hers and peek inside to see it’s empty.
“Boring” I mutter to myself turning slightly to see a faded sign indicating ‘Stairs’. With a sigh, I locate the stairwell. My boots echo against the metal steps as I climb, my breathing growing heavier with each flight.
How. Many. Fucking. Stairs.
By the time I reach the sixth floor, a faint layer of sweat clings to me despite the cold chill that runs through the hallway. Walking down, I take my time to read the numbers on the doors until I find myself outside her door. Muffled laughter filters through the wood, and I press my ear against it, straining to make out the words. The laughter fades into silence.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a white envelope with Eva’s name scrawled on the front. I slip the photograph inside and wedge the envelope into the door frame, leaving it as a gift. A warning some might say.
“Let the games begin,” I whisper before turning to leave, my steps silent as I retreat into the shadows.