I can’t keep my eyes off of Axel. He sits there on the floor with his head resting against the wall, eyes closed, but body so tightly wound that there isn’t a possibility he is relaxed. I want to hate him. I want to think he is this heartless bastard that just up and left Izzy and ignored her letters. I want to blame him for the series of events that followed. The ones that have had her thinking he has been dead and gone for the last decade plus. I want nothing more than to walk up to this man and kick him in the nuts for all that it’s worth.
But… but something is holding me back from automatically condemning him to hell. Maybe it’s the presence of these strong men silently offering what I think is support, or the fact that when he realized who Izzy was, the first thing that flashed in those green eyes of his was shock, and if I’m not mistaken… love.
Whatever is happening here is larger than any of us realize. So with the knowledge that I’m just going to have to watch it play out like the rest of them, I go to settle in for a long wait. Just when I’m about to get comfortable against the wall, the door clicks open, and out walks the other man who arrived with the group. I think Greg called him Locke. Every single fiber of this man is laced with a strong warning. He appears unapproachable or at least that’s just the vibe he wants to project. His eyes, so dark they appear black, take in the crowded hallway but zoom in on Axel when he stands from his position on the floor.
Bottom line, that man scares the ever living shit out of me.
“What the fuck are you glaring at, Locke?” Axel growls, stepping a little closer to the big, scary dude.
“I’m looking right at you, Motherfucker. It shouldn’t take a big leap of ‘clue the fuck in’ for you to realize I’m looking right at your dumb, fucking ass.” His deep baritone snarls out the words. Eyes hard as coal, his large frame is puffed up and ready for a fight. I back up slightly, just from his strong presence. Even though his words are spoken in a low tone, the sheer power behind them has every instinct in my body telling me to run from the predator.
Obviously, Axel doesn’t seem to have the same issues concerning this man as I do. He walks, calm as you please, right into Locke’s space. “What the hell? Is there a reason you seem to think I pissed all over your shit?”
I watch them having their heated debate. Each time Axel opens his mouth to throw some excuse back to Locke, or Locke explains what is going on with Izzy in the other room, I feel my heart pick up speed. Each word that comes out of their mouths makes my world slowly rock and rumble, knowing that the things Izzy has believed for so long are so far from reality.
It’s like when you see a car accident and you just can’t look away. Or when you’re watching a horror movie that you know will keep you up at night for years to come. You know you shouldn’t watch, you know there is something coming, but for the life of you, you can’t look away. This is one of those moments for me. I know in my gut that I need to stop listening, but I can’t look away. I can’t plug my ears as a toddler would, and then drop to the floor, throwing a fit that demands these men to shut the hell up.
So I stand here and take it all in. Then, Axel does the only thing that can break me out of my shocked induced stupor. He mentions the one man that not only ruined Izzy’s life, but mine as well. The one man that still has the power to ruin hers, and the one man that I would do anything to see wiped off this planet.
Brandon Hunter, Izzy’s ex-husband.
At my gasp, his face turns to me. I flinch again at the hard look that’s come over his otherwise handsome features. “Are you fucking okay?” he spits with a tone that lacks all sympathy. I’m the annoying one here? I don’t fucking think so!
How in the hell can he turn this around, and make it everyone else’s fault? Any sympathy that I’ve felt for him over the last hour or so vanishes instantly. I feel the adrenaline starting to fire through my veins. He has the misfortune of pissing off the mama bear inside of me. I have years and years of being Izzy’s rock and strength on my side to fuel my anger. You do not piss off the one person who would go to battle to make sure that the woman in the other room doesn’t turn into that powerless blob again. Especially when, in all reality, all of this is in a way his fault. Even if he doesn’t know it, HE is the reason she is so screwed up.
And, just like a man, he can’t keep his mouth shut when he pisses off a woman. You would think that he would know better. But his words prove otherwise. “Seriously, do you need something? Water, a chair, a fucking Midol?”
All that adrenaline, fire, and pent up, stone cold fury rushes to the surface, and all I want to do is charge this man. I walk right up to him, step into the middle of the small space between him and Locke, and do my best to meet his angry glare with one of my own. “Listen here you… you big asshole, you will not sit here and be a little shit. You have no clue what’s going on, but I promise you this, it’s bigger than your need to ‘chat’. Do you understand me?” I jam my finger into his rock hard chest a few times just to make sure my point is clear.
He looks down at my finger, still pressed hard between his pecs, before wrapping his fingers around my wrist and removing it. “No, little girl, I do not fucking understand you, not one little bit. So maybe your ass can clue a bastard in?” Just as quickly, that burst of anger seems to vanish, and he looks like the same confused man that he was earlier when he realized the woman standing before him was his long, lost lover.
“I can’t, Axel. This isn’t my story to tell.” I smile weakly, but drop my lips the second his confusion turns a little darker.
“How do you know my name? I haven’t gone by Axel in a long fucking time, Sweetheart, so if anyone knows what’s going on, my guess would be you.”