33. Wrinley
Wrinley
“ W rinley, wake up.” I feel myself shift but my eyes won’t open. Since when did they make couches so comfy anyway. If I didn’t know where I was, I’d swear I was sleeping on an actual cloud right now.
“I don’t wanna,” I whine, squeezing my eyes closed tight like that will prevent the inevitable.
A hand comes to my shoulder, poking and nudging me–annoyingly–until my eyes spring open to find Axel hovering over my with those slutty glasses and that gorgeous, broody fucking face of his.
“We’ve got to go,” he says, his tone brokering no argument.
“I need you to wake up. You can go back to sleep soon.”
“Wait–” I sit up, our heads almost colliding as I do. “What the fuck is going on?”
“I have to go out of town overnight.”
“Why?” I prod.
“Because I have an important matter to take care of.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. An important matter ,” I mock, intentionally drawing out the words to annoy him. “That’s such helpful information. Why didn’t you just say that?” I move to stand but his body moves to box me in.
“I need you to listen to me, Wrinley… and not argue for once.” He pauses and I nod, mostly because I’m dying to know what he’s about to say. “You’re going to stay at my place while I’m gone. Dom is coming with me, so you’ll have the place to yourself.”
“When is this happening?”
“Now. I’m taking you to my place, packing some things and leaving.”
My arms fly out to push him again and this time I’m successful enough to be able to get past him.
I want to push back against this, just to prove he doesn’t hold all the cards in this thing we have going on, but I think in this case, he might because the part of me that’s dying to see his personal space is overtaking any feminist instincts I may have to resist.
“I hope you don’t expect me to be celibate while you’re gone.
” That may have been the actual wrong thing to say because I think he did actually growl this time.
My hands raise in mock surrender. “Hold on there, killer. I’m not talking about other dudes.
I’m talking about self-love, you know… flicking the bean…
pressin’ ye ole panic button…knocking on the devil’s doorbell? ”
His face twists in confusion and morphs into something resembling disgust. “Please tell me you don’t actually call it any of those things.”
“I actually came up with them on the spot. Aren’t I so clever?”
When his hand closes in on my throat and squeezes slightly, I swallow.
“Let me be clear. You can try all you want to make yourself come while I’m away, but whether you can actually get yourself across the finish line or not, you sure as fuck better finger fuck that tight cunt of yours on my pillow or not at all.
The next time I lay my head on it, I better fucking smell you on it. ”
Oh-fucking-kayyyy.
“I can do that.”
“Who knew you had a good girl in you after all?”
“Maybe I just like to be good for you sometimes, asshole.” I smirk.
“Sure you do. Let’s go.”
When we get to Axel’s truck, he grabs my hand and pulls me to the driver's side door, opening it and staring at me like I’m supposed to know what’s happening.
“What are you doing?” I ask, scrunching my face in confusion.
“Now would be a good time to be good for me. Get in.”
“Wh–” I start, but my words are cut off when he wraps his hands around my waist and hoists me up into the driver seat, turning me so I’m facing the steering wheel.
He leans over me to stick the key in the ignition. “Place your foot on the brake pedal.” When I don’t move to do as he says, he wrenches my foot to put it where he wants it and presses into the pedal, turning the ignition at the same time. Then he proceeds to buckle the seat belt.
“I–I don’t understand what’s happening.” My voice is shaky while my heart hammers in my chest like it’s about to break through and run for the hills. I think I might actually know what’s happening, but I pray I’m wrong.
In a classic asshole move, he shuts the door on me and maneuvers around the front of the truck until he’s sliding into the passenger seat next to me with that smug fucking look on his face that I’d definitely like to smack off of him, consequences be damned.
“It’s not rocket science, little trainwreck. Please tell me you know how to drive.”
I should tell him I don’t, but considering what I recently learned about him, he probably already knows the answer. “Are you telling me you don’t already know? Do your creeper tendencies not go back that far?”
I do know how to drive. My father forced me to learn when I was seventeen, against my wishes. He got me in the driver seat by telling me I didn’t have to drive once I learned, if I didn’t want to, but I needed to know how.
“Yeah, I already know,” he admits with that fucking smirk again. I swear to god I’m so close to smacking it off of him. “You’re going to drive us back to my place and when I’m gone, I’ll leave the truck for you, so you can go anywhere you need to go.”
My hands clench into fists. I can already feel the sting of the tears threatening to make their presence known as my forehead beads with sweat.
I can hear my pulse, loud and fast in my ears as my vision starts to blur and my periphery goes black, threatening to close in on me and shut my entire system down.
I can’t do this.
“You can do this, baby.” His hands cup my face and he turns me toward him in one single movement. “Open your eyes.”
I didn’t realize I had closed them.
“I c-can’t, Axel. What if something happens? I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“You can do anything you set your mind to. Remember, I had this truck built–for you–to be safer than any of those fucking rideshares you get into. You’re.
Safe. With Me.” His voice is strong and sure, and there’s something in the way he’s trying to reassure me with that gruff voice of his, that makes me open my eyes.
“Now stop being a little bitch, Wrinley and drive us the fuck home.”
It should piss me off that he just accused me of being a little bitch , but it does the exact opposite.
It’s like he knows exactly what I need and when I need it, because it lights a fire under my ass and the fear is now replaced with the need to show him–prove to him–that he’s right and I can do this.
I look around the truck to find all the necessary equipment and once I do, I move the shifter into reverse and pull out of the parking space.
We’re about halfway to his apartment according to the GPS he set up for me to follow and I have to admit, I’m surprised I’m actually doing this.
“You’re doing a good job, Wrinley. It’s probably safe to let up on the steering wheel a bit. Your knuckles are whiter than you are,” he chuckles.
“Why do you care if I drive or not?” The question has been gnawing at me since we left.
“Maybe I don’t. Maybe I just want to be chauffeured around.” I’m so focused on the road ahead of me, I can’t see his face, but I know he’s got that same smug look on his face.
“You’re a dick, you know that?”
“Yeah. I’ve been called worse.” I bet he has. “The turn is right up here. Slow down or you’ll miss it.”
I do as he says and successfully–I think–park his large truck in what feels like the tiniest space they have, releasing the heavy breath I’d been holding the entire drive. He’s out the door and at the driver side in an instant, opening the door and reaching for me with an outstretched hand.
“I can’t believe I did that,” I admit, feeling wobbly now that I’m on my feet. “I think I’m going to throw up.”
“Shit. If you’re going to hurl, please do it out here. Most of my furniture is Italian leather and vomit will never come out of it.”
“How thoughtful,” I say just before I heave and run to the brush near the line of cars.
I can hear Axel following close behind and just before I empty what feels like every single thing I’ve eaten in the last week, I feel him pull my hair back to hold it while I do.
Axel
“Well, clearly I shouldn’t do that again.” Wrinley stands and swipes across her face with her forearm.
Nasty.
Her face is pale–almost green–as she stares at me with those big, green eyes of hers.
I take a step closer to her and bend to curl my arms under her knees and around her back, lifting her into my arms. “We’ll talk about it another time. Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed.”
I don’t think this is a nervous response to me forcing her to drive us home.
Home .
My heart hammers against my chest at the thought of us always taking up the same space.
I had a feeling she might already be pregnant before, but now I’m positive she is.
I need to get this job done quickly so I can get back to her.
If she’s already vomiting, it’s only a matter of time before she puts two and two together, and while I don’t exactly look forward to the wrath that is likely to ensue when she does realize it, I want her to go through it alone even less.
I carry her inside, grateful to find Dom fully clothed with a bag at the door ready to go.
“Shit, Axel. Is that–”
“Yeah. She’s going to stay here for a while.
I’m going to put her in my bed. Wire five grand to her landlord for me from the offshore account.
” I was only going to force her to stay here while I’m gone, but this new development changes things.
I’ll be able to watch over her better if she’s here, with our enhanced security system.
“You got it,” Dom says, nodding as he shuffles to the office to do as I asked.
“Can you also call the pharmacist back and tell him I no longer need his services and he’s free to go about his business, as usual.”
I hear a grunt from the other room and for Dom, that’s as good as a verbal acknowledgment.
“Who was that? And why didn’t you introduce me?” Wrinley asks quietly on a yawn, her head resting in the crook of my neck.
Fuck, I could get used to this.
I push my bedroom door open with my foot. “He’s none of your concern, little trainwreck. The only man you need to worry about… is me.”
“Wow… possessive much?”
“You have no idea.” I sit her on the edge of the bed.
“Stay right there. Don’t move.” Then I head into the bathroom to grab a warm, wet washcloth.
By the time I get back to her, she’s already laying down, so I nudge her legs over, sit and proceed to remove the vomit that’s already starting to dry on her face and arms. When I finish, I pull the covers over her, tucking them around her snugly.
My bed isn’t huge, but it’s big enough that I have to fight the urge to crawl in with her.
Not that we’d need the space. She won’t be getting much of that from me moving forward.
Not that I’ve given her much up until now, anyway.
I sit next to her but when she moves to sit up, I palm her entire face to place her back on the pillow–my pillow.
“Ruuuuuude. You’re lucky I’m so tired.” She yawns again and I lean over her to place a light kiss on her forehead. “Be careful. Keep doing that and I might start to think you actually like me.”
My hands lift in mock surrender. “My bad. We wouldn’t want that.”
Before she can shoot back another insult, her eyes are closed and she’s asleep.
I take in her sleeping form. I thought she looked like mine the million other times I watched her sleep, but now…
it feels different, like there was never a time that she wasn’t.
I place a hand lightly on her stomach, letting the new reality of what I’ve done sink in.
Not much has changed physically, but the second my hand touches her, I can feel my childhood flash through my mind in a whirlwind of images from birthdays spent alone in my bedroom to getting myself to school every day in the first grade by myself–breakfast and all–because my selfish as fuck mother couldn’t be bothered with anything that didn’t revolve around herself.
Then there’s images of the father I never had.
The empty space at the table I would leave for him when I was little, because I knew he was coming back.
The truth is, I barely remember him leaving.
I have no doubt this irritatingly perfect woman will be an example of what every mother should be, but me… I have nothing to pull from. I know I’m responsible for this, but what the fuck was I thinking? I have no fucking business being a father. Hell, she’ll probably be a better parent without me.
Fuck.
“You about ready to go?” Dom calls gently from the hallway.
“Yeah, I’m coming.”
Then I pack my bag and leave.