Page 132 of Double Standards

Ignoring the war raging in my head, I turn the taps, filling the tub. No fancy bath bubbles here, just warm water, and I hope that’s enough.

She waits patiently as I swirl the water, testing the temperature before turning off the taps.

I stand, heading for the door. “I’ll be right outside,” I tell her.

“Axel?” Her sweet voice calls out. “Stay with me?”

I hesitate. Then nod, kicking off my shoes and rolling up my sleeves, perching on the toilet as she undresses.

There’s a tenderness in me when I look at her. Seeing her bruised face fuels my anger but also something deeper—protectiveness, fear. My chest tightens so much I nearly skip a breath as she peels off her clothes, revealing bruises and marks that make my blood boil.

Handprints on her neck make my fists clench tighter.

She sinks into the warm water with a soft swoosh. I lookaway, giving her dignity, until a sigh escapes her lips. Her face twists into a painful wince as she leans back against the tub, and it kills me every second I watch.

“What happened, baby?” I ask softly, kneeling beside her, reaching for the cloth nearby.

Her eyes close as steam swirls around us. We sit in silence, or rather I do, until she’s ready.

“It was Aiden Daniels who shot you,” she says quietly. Her hands trail through the water, fingers playing with the ripples—hypnotic, calming for both of us. “He’s mad you didn’t…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, but I know what she was going to say. “So he wanted to hurt you.”

I nod tightly, jaw clenched, wishing I’d acted sooner. I should have stopped this when Hunter told me he was behind the Mayor’s death. Cassie would be safe, unharmed, and I wouldn’t be wearing a scar across my abdomen.

“You were right,” she murmurs, locking her forest-green eyes with mine. “He wanted to hurt you through me.” A tear slips down her cheek, rippling into the water below. I dip the cloth and gently dab at the split on her lip.

Pushing aside the hatred coiling inside me like a venomous snake, I reach for her legs, lifting each one carefully to scrub dirt from her knees. She watches me, a small, grateful smile on her bruised lips.

“I won’t let him near you again,” I vow, lowering her leg back into the water. It’s the truth—even if I have to deal with this myself.

Cassie says nothing more. She closes her eyes and lets me wash the grime away. When I finish checking her injuries discreetly, I hand her a towel and toss a t-shirt onto the bed.

“I just need to make a call. I’ll be back in five minutes.” I press a kiss to her cheek. She smiles and nods.

I pull out my phone and head back to my office. Dialing Trigger’s number, it rings once—then voicemail.Fuck.

I send a message instead:

Me: We have a problem. My office, tomorrow.

Next, I call Max. The one guy who can find anyone with a single breath.

“Ax,” he answers, gruff and to the point. A man of few words, but every one counts. He’s the silent observer, always analyzing, and I trust him more than most.

“Aiden Daniels. Find him.”

“The D.A.?”

“Yes. The D.A.” I snap.

“Done.”

The line clicks off, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I wait for Max’s confirmation—he won’t just locate Daniels, he’ll seize him. Now, I have to decide what comes next. I need that man’s blood like air. My fury burns hot, ready to tip into catastrophic rage. He will be my punching bag. I’d bet my life on it.

Irony doesn’t escape me.

I pace my office, mind racing. Call a hit? Send a soldier to follow and make it look like an accident? No. Too easy, too clean. I want to face him. Look him in the eyes while I drain every last drop of blood. I’m a man who thrives on inflicting unforgettable pain. I dominate through torture until my victim begs for death.

The pacing gives me a headache. I haven’t touched whiskey since Cassie’s visit the other night. Hunter called me a ‘functioning alcoholic’ more than once—well, enough is enough.