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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.
