Chapter 13
”You ever notice how the syrup here tastes like it”s been blessed by some kind of breakfast fairy?” I quip, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach that”s been growing since we left the safe house. Axel raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips as he glances down at the sticky bottle in my hand.
”It”s maple, Sasha. It”s supposed to taste good,” he says, his voice low enough that it ripples just for me amidst the diner”s morning buzz.
I pour the syrup liberally over my stack of pancakes, determined to find some comfort in the familiar sweetness. ”Well, damn, I might just pack a bottle for when we have to head back to LA. Could use a little magic on the road.”
Axel”s chuckle warms me more than the coffee I”m nursing, but even his light mood can”t ease the tension coiled tight in his shoulders—the same tension that”s been my unwanted shadow since the stalker decided I”m his favorite plaything.
The bell above the diner door jingles and I glance up, my gaze flitting between faces. Locals mostly, with smiles as warm as the golden sunlight spilling through the windows. It”s funny how a place can feel like home even when you”ve only known it for a few days. Maybe it”s just the contrast to the usual whirlwind of my life on tour. Here in Pine Haven, I can breathe. Or at least, I could until...
Axel”s hand suddenly covers mine, squeezing tight enough to still me. ”Don”t look now, but we”ve got trouble,” he murmurs, eyes locked on something beyond my shoulder.
I turn slightly, my heart thudding against my ribs as I spot it—a folded piece of paper weighed down by the salt shaker, stark against the checkered tablecloth. It wasn”t there a minute ago; I”m sure of it.
His hand still over mine, Axel picks up the note with his other hand and unfolds it with care that doesn”t match his casual demeanor. He reads silently, and I watch his jaw twitch—a telltale sign he”s about to go into full-on protector mode.
”Let me see.” My voice is firmer than I feel as I reach for the note. Axel hesitates but relents.
In looping cursive that chills my blood, it reads:
Even in paradise, you can”t hide from me.
I drop the note like it”s on fire. ”He found us,” I whisper, disbelief and fear tangling with anger in my gut.
Axel”s blue eyes meet mine, and there”s a storm brewing in them. ”We”re not going to let this bastard win,” he says with conviction that almost makes me believe him.
The cozy clatter of dishes and low hum of conversation around us suddenly feels alien, intrusive. The diner is no longer just a diner—it”s a stage where the stalker has decided to make his presence known.
I take a shaky breath and push away my plate; food is tasteless now anyway. ”What do we do?”
Axel is already on his feet, scanning the room like he can spot our invisible menace hiding among the locals indulging in their morning coffee fix. ”First things first,” he says with controlled urgency, ”we”re getting out of here. We need to update Sheriff Grace on the new development.”
He tosses some bills onto the table—far too many for two breakfasts and coffee—and offers me his hand. I take it without hesitation because right now, Axel Creed is more than just my bodyguard—he”s my lifeline in this twisted game of hide and seek, where being found could mean losing everything.
The bellabove the door of the sheriff”s office rings with a kind of irony as we step in—like we”re entering a sitcom set where the laugh track”s about to kick in. But no one”s laughing, least of all me, wrapped in this ridiculous blanket that makes me look like an escapee from the world”s most paranoid cult.
Sheriff Grace Thompson stands from behind her desk, all crisp uniform and no-nonsense eyes that have probably seen more backwater brawls than Hollywood has paparazzi. ”Sasha, Axel,” she nods, ushering us to sit. ”Let”s catch this son of a bitch.”
I try for a smile, but it probably looks more like a grimace. ”That”s the plan, Sheriff. I”m not exactly thrilled about being Stalker Victim of the Month.”
Grace doesn”t miss a beat. ”Well, we aim to make your stay here less... eventful.” She spreads out a map on her desk, her finger tracing routes and landmarks like she”s planning a surprise party rather than discussing how to keep me from being surprise-attacked.
Axel leans forward, all business now. ”We need to double down on patrols around the safe house. And maybe throw in some decoy moves, just to shake things up.”
I can”t help but notice how his hand hovers near my shoulder—close enough to be comforting without actually touching. Always the protector.
”Already on it,” Grace replies, her eyes flicking up to meet Axel”s with a glint of steel I can”t help but respect.
I let out a sigh that rattles around in my chest before finding its way out. ”Great, so while you two are playing cops and robbers, I”ll just... knit a sweater or something.”
Axel shoots me a look that”s half exasperation, half concern. ”You know it”s not like that.”
”Yeah,” I quip back, despite the ice clawing up my spine at every creak and whisper in this room. ”Just wish I could do more than sit pretty and wait for the stalker to pop out with a ”Gotcha!””
”You”re doing plenty by staying safe,” Grace says firmly. ”And we”re going to use every resource we have to end this.”
Axel finally rests his hand on my shoulder, a small touch that sends strength coursing through me like I”ve just plugged into a power grid.
”Thanks, Grace,” he says with genuine respect.
”And thank you for the blanket,” I add with an attempt at levity. ”Though next time, maybe go for something less... grandma chic?”
A ghost of a smile flits across Grace”s face before she turns back to her maps and plans—a commander gearing up for battle.
Axel squeezes my shoulder once before letting go, his body language as taut as piano wire as he huddles over strategies and surveillance points with Grace.
And me? I”m just trying not to fidget myself into oblivion while my life hangs on by promises and lines drawn on paper.
”So, we”re just going to be sitting ducks in this quaint little town?” I can”t keep the bite out of my voice, or maybe I just don”t want to.
Axel turns, his blue eyes serious but not without warmth. ”Sasha, you know it”s not about playing sitting ducks. It”s about being smart?—”
”And here I thought smart was my middle name,” I interrupt, rolling my eyes. ”But hell, maybe I should change it to ”bait.’”
He walks over and crouches before me, his gaze level with mine. ”You”re no one”s bait. We”ll get this creep off your back.” There”s a promise in his voice that sounds like it”s etched in stone.
I sigh and look away from him, out the window where Pine Haven stretches, calm and inviting. It”s a stark contrast to the chaos brewing inside me—a tempest of fear and a growing reliance on Axel that sets my teeth on edge.
”You ever think that maybe the great Axel Creed is in in over his head?” My voice is barely above a whisper, but Axel hears it all the same.
”Every damn day,” he admits with a half-smile that doesn”t reach his eyes. ”But I”m not about to let you down.”
I stand up, wrapping the blanket tighter around me as if it can shield me from my own spiraling thoughts. ”I”m not used to someone else calling the shots,” I say more to myself than to him.
Axel stands too, his presence solid and reassuring. ”Hey,” he says gently, lifting my chin so I have no choice but to meet his gaze. ”You call plenty of shots, Sunshine. Don’t sell yourself short.”
A laugh escapes me despite the dread lodged in my chest. “’Sunshine’ feels a bit optimistic given our current horror show.”
He grins at that, and for a moment it”s just us—no stalkers, no threats—just Sasha and Axel against the world. It”s both exhilarating and terrifying, because I know deep down that our reality is far from this simple moment.
His smile fades as he reads the conflict on my face. ”What”s going on in that head of yours?”
I bite my lip, searching for words that can encompass the hurricane of emotions swirling within me. ”It”s just... all this,” I gesture vaguely at the room around us, ”it makes what we have feel like some kind of pressure-cooker romance. And what happens when the heat”s off? When life goes back to normal?”
Axel steps closer, his hands resting lightly on my arms. ”Sasha,” he starts but hesitates as if searching for certainty himself.
I shake my head slightly. ”No need for promises we can”t keep,” I say softly.
His touch lingers a second longer before he steps back. We”re both lost in our thoughts now, wondering about a future we”re not even sure will exist once we step outside this bubble of danger and desire.
The sheriff clears her throat from across the room, snapping us back to reality—a reality where my stalker is still out there and Axel Creed is my shield against an uncertain fate.
I wrap myself tighter in the blanket, not just for warmth but for something to hold onto as I navigate this growing dependence on Axel that threatens to unravel me completely.
The ride back to the safe house is a masterclass in silence, the kind where you can hear your own heartbeat over the engine”s hum. I”m huddled in the passenger seat, clutching the ”grandma chic” blanket like it”s a shield against more than just the cold.
Axel”s jaw is set, his eyes fixed on the road like he can will away the danger with sheer force. But he sneaks glances at me, quick and sharp, as if checking I haven”t vanished into thin air.
”So, what”s the plan, Cap?” I ask, breaking the quiet that”s settled over us like a heavy fog. ”We go full Home Alone in this place? Because I”ve got to tell you, my booby trap skills are pretty much limited to tripping over my own feet.”
He cracks a smile at that, and it”s like a ray of sunshine cutting through the clouds. ”Don”t worry, we”re not relying on your trap-setting skills. We”ve got tech that would make Kevin McCallister green with envy.”
I chuckle despite the nerves dancing in my stomach. ”Well, that”s a relief. My battle plan involved throwing CDs like ninja stars—platinum hits can be deadly in more ways than one.”
Axel”s laugh is a deep rumble that warms me from the inside out. ”Let”s stick to the high-tech security measures,” he suggests, parking us safely inside the garage of the safe house.
The place feels different now, less like a sanctuary and more like a fortress. It stands stoic against the looming threat outside its walls.
We step out of the car, and Axel guides me inside with a hand at the small of my back, a touch that steadies me more than I”d like to admit.
”We”ll walk through everything again,” he says with quiet determination. ”Every lock, every camera. I”m not taking any chances with your safety.”
I nod, grateful for his protectiveness even as it stirs something deeper within me—something beyond fear and gratitude.
Together we move from room to room, checking windows and doors. Axel”s military precision is both terrifying and reassuring. He”s all controlled power and fierce commitment, a walking contradiction who can cook up a gourmet meal or take down an enemy with equal skill.
”I”ve got to hand it to you,” I say as we finish our rounds, ”you really know how to make a girl feel safe.”
His gaze meets mine, blue eyes intense with something more than professional concern. ”It”s more than just a job for me,” he says quietly.
The air between us crackles with unspoken words and lingering touches as we prepare for whatever comes next.
”I know,” I whisper back. My heart hammers against my ribs as I look up at him—the man who might just be my port in this storm.
”Thank you,” I add because those two words carry more weight than any blanket ever could.
He doesn”t need to reply; his embrace says it all—strong arms that promise to hold back the darkness and keep me grounded when fear tries to carry me away.