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Axel just smirks, his hand finding mine under the table and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You're not entirely off base," he admits, and I feel my blush deepen.
Tessa's gaze softens as she looks at me, her head tilted thoughtfully. "You seem different here, Sasha. With him. It's like... like you've found a piece of yourself you didn't know was missing."
Her words hit me like a revelation, and I turn to look at Axel, seeing him through new eyes. She's right. With him, I feel whole in a way I never have before.
"So, tough guy," Tessa turns to Axel, her tone light but her eyes serious, "what's your take on all this?"
Axel is quiet for a moment, his gaze distant. When he speaks, his voice is low. "Sasha... she's like sunshine after years of goddamn rain."
His words steal my breath, and I have to blink back the sudden sting of tears. Under the table, I lace my fingers with his, hoping he can feel the depth of my gratitude and affection in the simple touch.
Tessa, sensing the weight of the moment, breaks the tension with a laugh. "Alright, lovebirds, enough sappy stuff. Tell me about Pine Haven! Any hotspots or secret hideaways?"
And just like that, we're swept back into the easy camaraderie, trading stories and laughs. For a moment, I let myself forget about the darkness lurking at the edges of my life, focusing instead on the warmth and joy of this perfect day.
But as we're leaving the diner, Axel's phone chimes with an incoming message. I watch as his face hardens, his jaw clenching as he reads the screen.
"What is it?" I ask, a chill running down my spine despite the warm sun overhead.
He looks up at me, and the intensity in his eyes sends my heart racing. "It's from Derrick. They've identified the stalker. His name is Damien Ramirez.”
And just like that, the perfect bubble of our day shatters, reality crashing back in with a vengeance. Fear coils in my gut, but as Axel takes my hand, his grip firm and reassuring, I feel a flicker of something else as well.
15
AXEL
The study's walls, lined with books and memories, close in on me. Sasha sits across from me, her eyes an open book of trust and expectation. It's a damn safe house, but nowhere feels safe when you're about to lay your soul bare.
"Sasha," I start, my voice as rough as gravel. "There's something about Damian you don't know. It's a shitstorm of a tale, and it ties back to... to that mission I led."
She tilts her head, her brows knitting together in that cute way when she's puzzled. "What does he have to do with your past?"
A humorless chuckle escapes me. "Well, turns out the world is smaller than we like to think." I run a hand over my face, the stubble scratching against my palm. "The guy... he had a brother."
Sasha leans forward, the candlelight casting dancing shadows across her face. She's all in, even if she doesn't know what she's signing up for.
"His brother was part of my team and the collateral during an op I commanded. I tried saving him…” My throat constricts as I try to push out the words that might just sever whatever this is between us.
"And what, Axel?" Her voice is soft but insistent.
"And he died." There it is—the ugly truth laid out like a body on the battlefield.
Her hand reaches out, hovering over mine before she pulls back slightly. "Axel, you can't blame yourself for?—"
"But I do, Sasha," I cut her off more sharply than I intend. "Every damn day."
She bites her lip—a quirky little habit when she's deep in thought—and finally places her hand on mine. It's warm and grounding. "I see you, Axel Creed," she says firmly. "You're not some... some villain in a tragic backstory. You're here with me now because you're strong and honorable."
I scoff at that, but she doesn't let me wallow in self-pity.
"Strong enough to share this with me," she insists.
Her confidence is unwavering; it's one of those things that just knocks the wind out of me—her strength. Sasha isn't just sunshine; she's a fire that refuses to go out no matter how dark it gets.
The knot in my stomach loosens just a bit as I look into her eyes and see no judgment there, just a fierce determination that says we can weather any storm.
"You don't run from the shadows," I murmur, admiration coloring my tone despite the situation.
