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“But what I can’t decide, Maggie, is whether to keep on fucking pushing until they stop caring altogether so I don’t have to worry about it anymore, or if I should figure my shit out.”
“We both know the latter of those two will be the hardest but most worthwhile, baby cakes.”
I nod, before turning my focus on the coffee once more. When I finally turn to look at her again, a coffee mug extended in her direction, she reaches a hand halfway toward me before stopping in her tracks and smiling sadly.
“Oh, Axel. I wish I could wrap you in my arms and wash all your worries away.”
“Sometimes, I almost consider it,” I reply, taking the bacon and eggs from her and moving to sit at the small table.
Without a word, she takes the seat across from me, tapping her finger on the table in front of me so I look at her. It’s only when she has my attention does she speak. “We’re family first, Axel. Always. You’re just as much my boy as Gray is. I’m not above renaming you with a color too.” She winks at me, lightening the mood, giving me a fucking out from my twisted thoughts.
“Why didn’t you pass these good genes on to your son? He could fucking use them.”
She chuckles, then lifts her mug of coffee to her lips. “Because I had to save them all for myself to use on you.”
THIRTEEN
Scarlett
I hurryinto the bathroom across the hall, pressing my back against the door as I shut it behind me.
Fuck me.
Axel has the most intense gaze I’ve ever felt. There was a challenge flashing in his eyes, but I didn’t back down, I never do. Although, I did manage to keep my mouth shut and that’s most definitely a first. The second he stepped away, I decided I didn’t want to give him a chance to turn around and give me shit, so I rushed in here as quickly as I could.
I make sure the door is locked behind me before I take in the small space. The white tiles on the wall and the sparkly black floor are clean, far fresher than anything at the Reapers’, and it doesn’t go unnoticed that the stainless steel faucets are shining too. This definitely has a woman’s touch written all over it.
I take a look under the vanity and find a neatly folded blue towel, which I claim, before turning the shower on. Giving the water a second to heat up, I brush my teeth and wash my face. The bags under my eyes aren’t going anywhere today, not after last night, but it’s nothing a little bit of make-up can't fix.
Taking my t-shirt off, I hook it on the door handle before stepping under the spray of the shower, and I instantly relax. Tilting my face to the water, I let it wash away all of the stress I’ve accumulated over the last twelve hours.
Addiction is hard. The battles that man must be facing are consuming him so much that he can’t see any other way of hiding from them. As much as I understand that, I’ve lived it once before, felt the pain and found no solace in the world. I can’t go through that again. I won't.
The thought of leaving him to suffer alone makes my heart tighten in my chest and I think I might be sick.
Fuck.
Grabbing my shampoo from the caddy, I rake my fingers along my scalp harsher than is necessary, but the pain pulls me from the spiraling thoughts overwhelming me. One saving grace is I got to see him standing on two feet moments ago, and that eases some of the anxiety that threatens to consume me.
If that had been my mom, she wouldn’t have left her bed until night came around, and even then, it would only be to repeat the process all over again.
Maybe there’s hope for him yet.
Once my hair is clean and my body smells like shea butter, I flick the water off and wrap the plush towel around me. The mirror is fogged up as I step out of the shower, and I’m thankful I don’t have to glance at my reflection right now with so many emotions buzzing through me.
I don’t bump into anyone as I head back to my room, where I toy over what to wear today, but eventually settle on a pair of high-rise skinny jeans and a Metallica t-shirt that I tuck into the waistband. Braiding my damp hair back off my face, I glance at my cell phone to check the time, and I’m surprised to see it’s almost midday.
My stomach grumbles in time with the realization, so I step into my combat boots, tuck my cell phone into my pocket and head for the kitchen. I pray with every step I take that I’ll find the room empty, but as I get to the open doorway, I find a woman standing in front of the refrigerator.
Her bleach-blonde hair is clipped up high and her make-up is light, making her lips shine and her eyes sparkle. She’s wearing a long orange maxi-dress and looks like she should be relaxing on a beach somewhere.
Whatever she was doing is halted as she senses my arrival, and any thoughts of animosity or bitchiness that I expected evaporate when she smiles at me.
Closing the refrigerator door, she whirls around with two bottles of water in her hand and places them on the table. “Hi, you must be Scarlett, right? I heard we had a new girl.”
Apparently news travels fast, although this is technically my second day here. How does it feel like an eternity and no time at all at the same time?
Clearing my throat, I nod. “Yeah, that’s me.” I remain by the door, not really sure what I should do with myself.
