Page 13

Lark

I didn’t say a word on the ride back.

Neither did Axel.

He gripped the wheel with one hand, the other clenched so tight on his thigh I could see the tension running through him. Rage. Guilt. Maybe even fear.

I just stared out the window, trying to breathe past the drumbeat in my chest.

I’d faced tornadoes. Lightning strikes. I once watched a power line explode ten feet from my boots.

But nothing had ever scared me like that man’s eyes.

And nothing had steadied me like Axel’s hands.

When we reached his cabin, I got out first. He followed.

The door shut behind us, and suddenly everything was still. No radio. No sirens. Just us.

I turned—and he was there.

Raw. Wide open. Burning.

“I should’ve stopped him before he got close,” he said, voice low and tight.

“You did.” I kept my voice soft. “You saved me.”

“He touched your trailer. He threatened you. And I let it get that far.”

“Axel—”

“I promised I’d protect you.”

“You did,” I said again, walking toward him. “You were the only safe thing in the whole damn world tonight.”

I reached for him, but he caught my wrists gently, like he wasn’t sure if he could hold on without breaking something.

“I’ve been holding it together since the second I met you,” he whispered, voice rough and shaky. “But I can’t do that anymore.”

“Then don’t,” I whispered back.

That’s all it took.

He kissed me like he needed to prove I was alive. Like if he didn’t feel my heartbeat under his hands, he might fall apart completely.

I kissed him back with everything I had—fear, relief, love I hadn’t dared name until now.

He pressed me into the wall, one hand braced beside my head, the other tangled in my hair, our mouths pulling apart just long enough to breathe.

“Axel…” I whispered.

His forehead touched mine. “Tell me to stop.”

“I won’t.”

He lifted me like I weighed nothing and carried me to the bedroom.

There was no storm outside tonight.

Because it was already here.

And it had finally been set free.