Axe closed the door slowly.
As she looked over at him, she met his eyes calmly. But her face was shut down, no emotion showing at all, no life in her eyes or her expression.
“What’s up,” he said, keeping his voice level.
Crossing his arms, he leaned back against the door. In his head, a litany of She’s leaving you, she knows, she’s leaving you, she knows … you’re going to be just like your father … started up, a bad chorus that was off-key, off-tempo, and the kind of thing that was going to make him mental.
“So I found this,” she said, running her hands over the black folds. “And I found what’s in it. The mask … and the key.”
Boom, boom, boom, boom—
For a split second, he looked over his shoulder, thinking that that sound must be someone beating on the kitchen door to get into the cottage.
Nope. It was his heart.
“I, ah, I’ve been sitting here, thinking, for hours.” She scratched the base of her nose. “Running through things to say to you in my head. Questions to ask you—like how could you possibly stand in front of me at Allishon’s and pretend you didn’t know what I’d found there. How could you lie to me—”
She stopped as her voice got higher and more urgent, and seemed to re-collect herself.
“So I went to Peyton’s, right after I found your key … found that you’d lied to me.”
“Great,” he muttered. He could only imagine how the guy had enjoyed fucking him up the ass with all kinds of—
“He wouldn’t go into it with me. He didn’t really say anything. And I respect him for staying out of this. I shouldn’t have put him in that position in the first place. But I didn’t know where else to go, and sometimes, when people are emotional, they don’t make the best choices.”
Axe waited, knowing that the hammer was about to fall—and it did.
“And I guess … that’s my conclusion.” She motioned between the two of them. “The night I met you, I’d decided to date Troy. It was as random a decision as they come. What I realize now is that what happened to Allishon and the stress in my household were eroding parts of me that I was unaware of becoming weak. I was flailing around, looking for an outlet—and then I met you. I threw myself into this—whatever it was—between us, headlong and out of control.”
Annnnd there it was, he thought. Past tense.
Was. Not is.
“At the end of the day,” she concluded, “you don’t owe me anything. We’re not in a relationship. The fact that you had sex with Novo at that club and then came home and were with me—”
“Wait, say what?” he barked. “When did this happen? If you’re going to rewrite history, at least give me a timeline so I can keep up here.”
Elise shot him a bored look. “You took her to the club. Two nights ago. And don’t pretend you didn’t. I was right here when she called and you wanted to make sure she was home safe. At the time, I didn’t put two and two together, because I didn’t remember the name of the female who was with you the night we met.”
“I didn’t have sex with her. That night, or any other.”
“Maybe that’s true. But I can’t believe you. I can’t believe anything you tell me. You didn’t even correct me when I said she was ‘he.’ You lied to me about knowing what the key was at Allishon’s. How will I ever know if you’re being truthful?”
Axe laughed in a hard burst. “I told you shit I haven’t told anybody.”
“Did you? Or was that an act to get my sympathy, falsely gain my trust?”
“Are you fucking kidding me.”
She shrugged. “This is the problem with lying, Axe. You do it once, and the other person has no idea what else you’ve been untruthful about. I come from a family of lies and silence. I can’t go into that shadow world with someone I’m intimate with. Moreover, I won’t do it. I told you in the beginning, honesty is the most important thing—”
“Honesty? You want to talk about honesty? You’ve been sneaking out of your father’s house for how long? And you only came clean about what you were doing when you got caught. You switched phones with your BFF Peyton so no one knew where you were when you were with me. You broke in to your cousin’s fucking apartment.” He jabbed a finger across the tense air at her. “You want to make me out to be an asshole, fine. Have at it. But don’t pretend for an instant that you’re in some holier-than-thou ivory tower. Because that’s bullshit, sweetheart. The only difference is, I’m not judging you and I’m not jumping to conclusions.”
Elise looked toward the dying fire. After a moment, she nodded. “All of that is fair.”
“Thank you for that seal of approval. It means so much to me.”
She got to her feet and laid the cloak aside, placing that fucking key on the folds. “It doesn’t change anything, though. The reality is, I’m not mad at you for sleeping with Novo or going to the club or playing dumb—”
“You sure about that?”
“Yes, I am.” She turned to face him. And with the way she was staring at him, he knew without a doubt, this was the last time they were going to be in an enclosed space together. “I’m mad at myself. I’m mad that I didn’t recognize I was addressing an emotional problem concerning my dysfunctional family-of-origin with the distraction of a poorly thought-out physical affair.”
“Yeah, looks like you’ve got it all figured out. You’ve even tagged it with fancy therapy-speak. Good for you.”
Yes, he was being a bitter son of a bitch, but what the fuck else was he supposed to do. Judge, jury, guilty verdict—it was all finished, all wrapped up. And he was going to the death chamber.
Because that’s what life was going to be without her.
Death.
Elise shook her head slowly and put on her coat. “I had no business jumping into anything, with anybody. And like I said, I don’t blame you. You didn’t owe me a thing. It’s not like we had some big conversation about monogamy and then you went out and were with other people. I’ve only known you a week, so … there you go. Lesson learned.”
Axe narrowed his eyes. “And what exactly did you learn?”
“That the only person you can really trust is yourself. And as long as you remember that, you’re going to be okay. No matter what happens.”
As Elise finished saying her piece, she stared across the room at Axe … and felt like she was looking at a stranger.
Which was actually more accurate than the illusion of closeness and intimacy that had been created thanks to the really good sex they’d had together. But come on. The Scribe Virgin, when She created the race, had set things up right. Because pregnancy could be a result of sex, during a time of needing, and young were deadly to bear and hard to raise, the male and female had to reeealllly want to get it on so that the species survived.
Otherwise no one would take the risk. Ever.
So sexual tension and sexual expression were powerful things—and potentially destructive when what made procreation possible for the species was brought to bear in a casual affair between two people who otherwise had no business being together.