by Skye Tisdale
Axel pulled into the parking lot and turned off the car engine, but made no move to get out of the car. “I’m sorry, all right?”
I crossed my arms stubbornly. “For what?”
He sighed. “I was trying to give you some tough love, but… I guess I took it too far.”
I glanced at him and saw the sheepish look on his face. It made me feel a little bit guilty for acting so cold. “How’s your arm?” I asked.
He chuckled. “Stings a bit, I won’t lie. You pack quite a punch.”
I bit my lip. “Sorry about that…”
He laughed again. “No worries, princess. Maybe I had it coming.”
“You did!” I agreed heatedly. But at the same time, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Axel had a point. What if the reason my life felt so out of control was because I never took control? “You were right, though,” I mumbled. “I do need to learn how to stand up for myself. I just don’t know how.”
“You’ll get there,” Axel said and pushed the door open. “Come on, let’s go inside. I’m getting cold just sitting here.”
I nodded. It wasn’t just cold, it was freezing. Even though I was wearing the new clothes Axel had given me, I felt myself tremble as I stepped into the howling blizzard. Axel unlocked the doors and we hurried inside. I looked around curiously. The bar looked aged with its crumbling brick walls and worn–out, wooden floorboards—not to mention the ancient jukebox in the corner. I felt like I’d just stepped into a time capsule. Yet, it had a sort of rustic charm to it.
“Phone’s behind the counter there.” Axel gestured the chestnut stain bar at the back of the room. The back wall was covered in matching shelves full of alcohol, and a massive mirror that made the room appear bigger than it really was. “I’ll wait in the hall and let you have some privacy.”
“Thanks.” I smiled at him.
He nodded and left the room. I walked behind the counter and found the phone right away. The long leaves of a spider plant brushed the top of my head as I pulled out a bar stool and perched on top of it. It was an old rotary phone—just like the one my grandmother used to have on her bedside table. Somehow, it fit right in. I lifted the receiver to my ear and slowly dialed the number to my mother’s cell. My fingers were shaking. I was hoping that my mother would understand my point of view. My father, on the other hand…
The receiver crackled in my ear. “This is Leanne speaking.”
“Mom.” I smiled sadly and felt my eyes well up. The sound of her voice pulled me back in time. It made me feel like I was 5 years old again, whining quietly as I clung to the back of her skirt. When I closed my eyes, I could smell the lemon–scented lotion she always slathered on after cleaning so that the harsh chemicals wouldn’t dry out her skin. “Mom, it’s me.”
I heard the distinctive sound of her setting her coffee cup down on the glass kitchen table. “Morgan? I’ve been calling you all morning! Why weren’t you answering me?”
“I dropped my phone,” I said and bit my lip. I wasn’t used to lying, and it felt wrong. “Mom, we need to talk. I have to tell you something…”
“There’s no need,” she interrupted. “David already called.”
“Oh.” I felt myself deflate. David calling wasn’t part of the plan, but maybe I should have predicted it. “I… What did he tell you?”
“Everything.”
“What do you mean by—”
“Running away doesn’t solve anything. That is what children do.” My mother’s tone was harsh and unapproving. “I think it’s time for you to come home, Morgan. Right now. The longer this drags on, the harder it’s going to be to patch things up between you and David. Do you understand?”
My bottom lip quivered. “Mom, I don’t want to marry him. I can’t.“ I’d been carrying those words around for as long as I could remember. Finally saying them out loud felt like such a relief; like I could finally breathe freely again. However, the silence that followed my confession was pure torture. My mother was so quiet on the other end of the line that I could hear my parents’ old grandfather clock ticking in the background. It seemed to go on forever. “Mom, did you hear me?” I asked. “I said—”
“I heard what you said!” she hissed. “Have you no shame? No sense of gratitude? After what your sister did, your father worked so hard to find one person who was willing to marry you. Everyone else thought you would run away too. And here you are, proving them all right! Your father is humiliated, Morgan. And so am I!” She paused just long enough to draw a deep, angry breath. “I won’t let it happen. Not again. You will marry David, and I won’t hear another word about it. Now tell me where you are so your father and I can come get you. It’s due time you returned back home. Back where you belong.”
“No,” I sobbed. I couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks anymore. “Not David. Anyone but him, mom. Please.”
“Your father and I clearly didn’t discipline you enough. I realize that now.” My mother sighed deeply. “This is all my fault. After what happened with your sister, I should’ve realized that you would need more guidance. I let you down, Morgan, and for that I am sorry. I truly am. It’s a miracle that David is willing to marry you at all…”
“He’ll hurt me.”
“If so, it will be for your own good.” My mother sighed and softened her tone somewhat. “God put us on Earth to serve and be obedient to men. Yes, I know it feels difficult sometimes, but that’s our duty as women and we must never forget it. It’s all part of His great plan. Now stop acting like a little girl, and start acting like the grown woman that you are. Come home, Morgan.”
I looked up and caught a glimpse of my own reflection in the mirror. With my hair down instead of pinned back, I looked so much like my sister that for a moment I thought it was her sitting there, staring back at me. We both had thick, mousy hair, pale cheeks that could do with some rogue, and big, solemn eyes. But on the inside, we were like opposites. While I’d spent my youth reading in the school library, she’d been out adventuring in the woods with the boys—much to the anger and disappointment of our parents. They punished her, but it didn’t matter, because she always went straight back to it. She didn’t let anyone tell her what to do, not even mother. Especially not mother.
So… why should I?
“You know what?” I clenched my jaw and thought about what Axel had taught me earlier. “No. I don’t think so, mom. I’m sick of you pulling all the strings in my life, like I’m some kind of fucking puppet and you’re the puppet master! I’m sick of being told what to do. This is my life, and my decisions, and you don’t get to make them for me anymore. From now on, if you can’t let me live my life, then stay out of it!“
She gasped and began screaming at me from the other end of the line, but her voice sounded muted and distant, sort of like a radio in another room. I was able to tune it out. I was angry, but the anger didn’t overwhelm me like it had with Axel over breakfast. I was in control—and it felt fucking great.
“Let me be very clear: I am never, ever going to marry David—or any man of your choosing, for that matter. Oh, and one more thing…” I took a deep breath before continuing. “Fuck you.“
I slammed the phone receiver down with a loud bang. I heard the floorboards creak, and when I looked up, I could see Axel watching me from the doorway. I smiled gratefully at him, knowing that if he hadn’t given me that push earlier, I wouldn’t have had the strength to stand up for myself now, when it really mattered. Axel returned my smile with a small nod, and I realized then that he wasn’t just a true friend… he may also be the only true friend that I’d ever had.
***
CHAPTER 10
AXEL
Morgan sat curled up on the couch with her arms wrapped around her knees. She’d been sitting there since we got back from the bar, quietly staring into the fire. There was a glistening in her eyes. I felt like I was supposed to say something to reassure her, but I didn’t know what—or how, for that matter. Instead, I brewed a cup
of tea and set it down on the table in front of her.
The idealistic part of me wanted to believe that I could just swoop in and save her from everything. Realistically, I knew that was a crock of shit. I’d tried to be a hero once before, and my dreams were still haunted by the innocent people that ended up dead in the process. I wasn’t going to risk that happening again. Not to her.
Morgan looked up suddenly. “Hey, Axel?”
“Hm?” I grunted without taking my eyes off the log I was trying to fit into the fireplace.
“Can we make an arrangement?” she asked.
I looked over my shoulder and guarded her reluctantly. “…What did you have in mind?”
She shrugged. “That we’ll always try to be honest with each other. No secrets, no lies… Everyone else is so two–faced, you know? I just want to be able to trust someone for once. What do you think?”
I hesitated. I’d spent the last five years of my life doing just that: lying and keeping secrets. I built walls to keep myself safe by keeping others out. But the walls didn’t work on Morgan. Instead of being deterred by them, she chose to climb them. Now she was standing at the front gate of my guarded fortress, simply asking to be let inside—and I was actually considering it. I mean, what was the real harm? Even if I did end up changing my mind, she’d be out of here in a couple of days anyway. Whatever happened between us, none of it would last forever… That could be a really great thing, or a really terrible thing, all depending on how you looked at it. I just wasn’t sure how I looked at it yet.
I nodded slowly. “Well… all right. I guess I can try.”
Morgan smiled warmly at me. After a moment, she scooted over on the couch to make some space. “This fits two, you know.” She grinned. “You don’t have to sit on the floor!”
I shrugged. “Floor’s not so bad.”
“Bet the couch is better, though.” Morgan winked and patted the empty seat beside her. “Won’t you come sit and watch the fire with me?”
I set the logs down and wiped the sawdust from my hands onto my sweater. My body felt stiff and tense as I walked across the carpet and sat down in the empty seat beside Morgan. Within seconds, Phoebe jumped into my lap and curled into a ball and began to purr. Morgan leaned in and rested her head against my shoulder while running her fingers through Phoebe’s fur. He began to purr.
All I could think about was Morgan’s thigh pressed against mine, and the way her protruding chest was resting against my upper arm. Thinking straight became increasingly difficult as the blood flow to my brain decreased with each passing second. Failing to resist the urge, I glanced down with the intention of looking at her cleavage, only to find myself distracted by the fact that she was no longer wearing the cross necklace she’d been wearing when we first met. I tore my eyes away and looked at the fire instead. I’d spent many long nights staring into the flames before, but never with another person.
“So, uh…” I cleared my throat. “You want to talk about what happened earlier?”
Morgan grimaced and shrugged her shoulders. “Not really.”
I squinted at her. “Yeah? Does that agreement we made earlier only apply to me?”
She smiled and laughed sheepishly. “No, of course not! I’m just not sure what to say, that’s all. I don’t want to bore you…” She bit her lip and thought for a moment.
I waited silently for her to continue.
“I guess all I ever wanted was to make my parents proud,” She said finally. “I desperately wanted to be a good daughter—and now I’m starting to think that’s because I was scared. They disowned my sister for not listening, and I didn’t want the same thing to happen to me, so I did everything they asked of me. Even the things I really didn’t even want to do…”
“Like what?”
She sighed softly and wrapped her arms around herself. “Like marrying David, I suppose.”
“David’s the guy who chased you up here?”
“Yeah.” She nodded and cleared her throat quietly. “Last night, he took me to a hotel room. At first, I thought it was some kind of romantic gesture, but… it wasn’t. There was another man there waiting for me. I don’t know what happened exactly, but I do know that David borrowed some money that he couldn’t afford to pay back. So…” Her voice cracked. “He offered them something else instead.”
Her.
My stomach twisted into knots. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around Morgan’s trembling body and held her tight while she sobbed quietly. I wanted to tell her that she’d be safe with me no matter what; that I could protect her… But was that really true? She didn’t need lies—David had fed her enough of those already. I was a decent shot, but it had been years since I had proper practice. If he showed up alone, perhaps I could take him on. But what if there were others? Not to mention I was haunted by my own past, which could force me to uproot my life at any moment. As much as it hurt me to admit, staying with me would only put Morgan at more risk. She’d be better off on her own.
“You’re safe now,” I whispered hoarsely. “No–one will touch a single hair on your head as long as you’re with me.”
That only made her sob harder, so I just held her quietly instead. It was probably better if I kept my mouth shut. I wasn’t good at comforting people… In fact, it was wearing on me. I was itching for a glass of whiskey, beer, or even wine. Anything with an alcohol percentage higher than zilch. But, at the same time, I didn’t want to drink a single drop of that shit. I was sick to my stomach of drinking myself numb. I wanted to feel again, even if those feelings were pain. I wanted to remember.
“They can’t hunt me forever, can they?” Morgan asked.
“Hmm… no,” I mumbled. In truth, I wasn’t really listening. Not to her, anyway. There was a car outside… I’d picked up on the sound of the engine humming as it drove past outside, even though the howling wind made it nearly inaudible. Morgan seemed oblivious to it.
She continued: “When the storm passes, I’ll drive through the mountain and come out on the other side. There’s a passage, right? I can start a new life somewhere far away; somewhere where David won’t look for me…” Suddenly, she turned her head and noticed me staring out the window. She furrowed her brows. “Axel? What’s wrong?”
I pushed Phoebe aside and got up and grabbed my coat. “There’s someone outside,” I said. Peering outside through the blinds, I could see a dirty, white van parked at the end of the driveway. I could barely see the driver through the snowstorm, but he looked young and lanky, with a red baseball cap pulled down over his forehead. He was alone. “What does your fiancé look like?”
“Is he out there?” Morgan gasped. She made a move to get off the couch and come to the window with me, but I put my arm out to stop her.
“No,” I said, never once taking my eyes off the man in the driveway. “Stay there. I don’t know who it is, but I’m going to find out.”
She nodded hesitantly and sat back down on the couch, pulling Phoebe into her arms. “Who is it, Axel? What do they want?”
How should I know? I thought, but I didn’t say it out loud. She was scared—and for a good reason. I closed all the blinds in the cottage before zipping up my jacket and making sure that my folding knife was still in my pocket. Then, I shot one last look at Morgan and stepped out into the cold. The snowstorm swirling around my head had turned the yard into a maze, but I followed the headlights to the end of the driveway. As I drew closer, the driver stepped out of the car to greet me.
“Are you Axel?” he called out through the wind.
So, it’s not her he’s looking for, I thought suspiciously. It’s me.
“And what if I am? State your business,” I demanded.
The man smirked to himself and reached into his pocket. But before he had the chance to pull anything out—a weapon, perhaps—I grabbed him by the throat and shoved him up against the side of the van. He cried out in surprise.
I glared at him. “What the hell is this about? Who are you?!”
>
“A friend!” he gasped, kicking his legs in a desperate attempt to gain footing. “I’m here to warn you! Put me down and I’ll tell you.”
I narrowed my eyes. He didn’t exactly look threatening… I lowered my arm so he could put his feet on the ground, but I kept my hand firmly around his throat. “Friends don’t come with warnings,” I hissed.
The man swallowed hard and looked up at me with big eyes. “Maybe this one does.”
“How about I give you a warning?” I suggested and tightened my grip around his throat. “I won’t ask you one more time: Who are you, and who the fuck sent you?”
“I–I’m not supposed to tell you,” he stammered. “Look, just put your hand in my front left pocket. There’s a package for you there. Take it and I’ll go, and I promise you’ll never have to see me again…” He swallowed nervously. “…Okay?”
I growled and reached my free hand into the man’s pocket. My fingers closed around a small, hard object wrapped in newspaper. I pulled it out and let the man go. “Get out of here!” I snapped. “I don’t ever want to see your face around here again. Understood?”
“Understood!”
The man jumped back into his car and reversed out of the lot without a second thought. He didn’t even stop to put on his seatbelt. I watched carefully until the car was completely out of sight, and only then did I turn my attention to the small package in my hand. Someone was looking for me—but was it really a friend, like the man had claimed? My gut was telling me yes, simply because foes didn’t waste time with couriers. And if there was one thing I learned during my years in the military, it was to always trust my gut. Guts don’t lie, but people do.
I tore into the package. Inside, I found a flat piece of metal attached to a worn metal chain. It was a dog tag, worn by those in the military as a means of identification, except this one had been scrubbed clean. There was no way of telling who it might have belonged to.
Frustrated, I crumbled up the piece of paper that had been wrapped around the tag and went to throw it away. But when I opened the garbage bin lid and reached inside, I suddenly noticed something written on the inside of the paper. It was a message, and whoever wrote it must’ve been in an awful hurry, because it was nearly unreadable. My stomach sunk as I deciphered the scratchings…