Page 25 of No Mistakes (No Mercy #2)

EVA

The second the motel door clicks shut behind Mandy, I exhale like I’ve been holding my breath for hours.

Finally.

Not because I want her gone, because I don’t. But the last few weeks have been hard, and this is the first time in a long time that I’ve had time to myself.

Mandy turned into a little schoolgirl when Ant left, running around the motel room, stressing about what clothes to wear, what perfume to use, and wondering about what he could want to show her.

I never truly understood what was happening between them, and in all honesty, I don’t think they knew either.

I’ve seen the way her body language changes when he’s around; it’s like he has this effect on her that turns her from badass to lovesick.

But as long as he doesn’t hurt her, I’ll be happy for her, for them both.

I grab the remote off the nightstand and flick on the TV.

The screen hums to life in that cheap motel glow as it struggles to find a signal.

I can practically feel the old TV static from the bed.

I scrolled past the news, romcoms, and reality show crap until I landed on something gritty and violent.

Perfect.

I need noise. A distraction, something that will silence my mind, and this is right up that street.

I kick off my shoes and collapse onto the bed with a bag of chips and a can of Coke. My shirt rides up as I get comfy, as well as my shorts, but I don’t care. My bra’s off, my hair’s in a bun, and for the first time in a week, I let myself go slack.

The action on the screen is loud and bloody. I watch without really seeing. My mind drifting to Mandy, Chicago, to the goddamn flash drive that contains the darkest subjects, and like always, him.

It always ends up finding its way back to him.

I want to forgive him, to believe all the words he’s telling me, but the broken girl inside of me screams to run away every time he is near.

That moment in the gas station bathroom nearly broke me. I was seconds away from caving in and forgiving him for the mistakes we made during our time together.

I fell for him fast, way too fucking fast.

Maybe it was the way he looked at me, or the way he seemed like he cared, but even with all the fucked up things, I always felt safe when he was around.

Something I haven’t felt since my parents died.

He gave me that feeling of home, like I could talk to him for hours without a care in the world.

I just wish we had more time in different circumstances.

My hand pauses halfway to my mouth when the knock comes.

Three, slow, measured knocks.

I know straight away it’s not Mandy, because she would let herself in.

I sit up, my heart already racing. I wipe my fingers on my bed and move to the door, looking through the peephole.

Jesus Christ, he’s like the fucking Bloody Mary, appearing from the darkness.

He stands there in the dim glow of the overhead light like something carved from stone and regret.

Leaning an arm against the doorway. He’s still wearing the same clothes from earlier today, the black tee stretching against his muscles, and I swear, if it weren’t for the door holding me up, I would be a puddle on the floor just from the sight of him.

He looks towards the peephole, as if he can see straight through it.

“Eva.” His voice is low. Muffled through the door. “Open up.”

I push my head against the door, asking God, ‘Why me? Why is it always me?’

I open the door, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he stays leaning against the door frame like a statue of muscles, tattoos, and that annoyingly handsome face, while his eyes burn into mine like I’ve ruined him.

“What?” I ask flatly, arms crossed over my chest.

“Come on, Eva… You gonna make me beg, baby?”

I shrug, doing my best to hide the fact that the word ‘baby’ has me melting internally. “You could try. Might be fun to watch.”

His jaw flexes, and something in his eyes flickers, like I just flipped a switch. But he doesn’t fire back with some sharp, asshole remark. Doesn’t play the villain, he’s so good at. He just… softens.

“I just wanted to see you.”

“Mission accomplished, goodnight,” I say bluntly, shifting my weight.

He pushes off the doorframe with a sigh that sounds like it hurts, catching the door as I try to shut it. “I know I’m the last person you want to see right now, but- fuck , Eva, I needed to know you were okay.”

“You could’ve texted.”

“Would you have answered?”

He’s got me there. I exhale, taking a step back to make room for him to pass.

He hesitates, then walks in like he’s stepping into a dream he knows he’ll wake from.

He looks around the shitty little room, examining the bag of chips on the bed, the empty can of Coke on the side table, and the scene that is currently playing on the TV.

“Nice place,” he mutters. “Very… apocalypse-chic”

“You would know,” I say, slamming the door shut.

He glances at me, lips twitching. “You’re watching a man get his head torn off while eating salt and vinegar chips. Are you okay?”

“I was, until you showed up.”

He laughs, nodding his head. “There she is.”

I sit back on the bed, tucking my legs under me. He leans against the dresser, hands in his pockets, shifting like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“You gonna sit or just stand there brooding all night?”

“Brooding’s kinda my thing.”

I roll my eyes, “Not a turn-on, just so you know.”

His eyes darken as he steps closer, dropping onto the edge of the bed.

“Why are you really here, Axel?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

I scoff, not believing a word.

“No, I mean it.” He turns towards me, his tone losing that usual arrogance. “After the gas station… after that moment in the bathroom. I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. The way you looked at me… like you still felt it.”

My body betrays me, and I wrap my arms closer, hiding the goosebumps that appear along my arms.

“You think you can show up and use that voice, those arms, and that whole tortured bad boy act, and I’ll fall apart?”

He leans back, smirking, propping himself up with an elbow. “Is it working?”

I throw a chip at him. “Asshole.”

He catches it in his mouth, winking at me, and butterflies flow up inside of me instantly. I stand abruptly, walking around the bed, needing to get away. “I need some air.”

“Good. I’m coming with you.”

I spin, facing him. “Like hell you are.”

He’s already up, grabbing my jacket, throwing it in my direction, before opening the door. “After you, Buttercup.”

We walk in silence, and I can’t help but admire the stars against the clear sky. The motel sits on the edge of nowhere, surrounded by trees, broken pavement, and distant street lights that flicker like they’re on their dying breath.

Everything smells like pine needles and old rain, and despite the silence, there’s nothing peaceful about it. The tension between us builds with every step, pressing in closer, tighter.

“Do you remember how happy you looked when you saw the car for the Providence job? Your smile was priceless,” he says suddenly, voice low, teasing.

I glance sideways at him. “Wait… you were there?”

His grin breaks across his face like lightning. “Yeah. Who do you think secured the car for you?”

“Fucking creep,” I mutter, but I’m not surprised. He was always there, watching from the shadows like some broody, overprotective phantom. Whether I knew it or not.

He shrugs, “You grinned like a maniac. I nearly blew my cover trying not to laugh.”

That makes me snort, “You never cared about cover.”

We keep walking. His hand brushes near mine on multiple occasions, close enough that I feel the heat of it, but not close enough to touch and for some reason, I yearn for the contact.

“Carter turned the car into a concert,” I say, like I’m offering him a piece of the day. “He made up lyrics for every road sign.”

Axel chuckles. “Sounds about right. Gunnar kept barking at every car we passed. It was like driving with a furry landmine.”

We keep swapping moments of the past few hours like they mean nothing.

But they do. Each sentence is a breadcrumb.

A step towards forgiveness. A way of pretending we’re still us.

That maybe, one day, we’d figure out how to be normal again.

Go on dates. Watch shitty movies. Lie on a beach somewhere and get to a point where I don’t have to carry a gun in my trunk.

But what’s normal when you’re in love with a mafia leader?

I steal a look at him. He’s walking with his hands shoved in his pockets, but I know his eyes are always moving. Always assessing his surroundings.

Even here, in the middle of the night, outside a half-dead motel in the middle of fucking nowhere, he’s on alert.

We turn the corner, walking into the motel lot, and that’s when I see it.

Ant’s car is parked outside the entrance, the driver’s side door wide open.

Axel notices it at the same time I do and his arm flies out across my body like a fucking seatbelt, locking me in place. “Stay here.”

His voice is low, sharp. No hesitation. I freeze instinctively, heart climbing into my throat as he edges around the car. He checks the seats, the trunk, everything.

After a moment, he waves me over, closing his door. “It’s clear. He probably forgot to close it.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Ant? Forget?”

Axel sighs. “Okay, maybe not. But whatever happened, we need to get inside and see if they’re there.”

I nod, but the unease lingers in my chest at the thought of something happening to Mandy. Again .

We enter the motel, and silence fills the foray. I look around, seeing it deserted. I look towards the clock above the empty reception desk to see it’s now midnight. No wonder I’m so goddamn tired.

It doesn’t take us long to enter the hallway of my room. I spot the note still taped to my door, and panic fills me at the thought of Mandy not being here.

All fears are wiped the moment I hear a bang.

“What was that?” I ask, turning to Axel. He steps forward, closing in on the door, and that’s when we hear it.

A quiet, breathy sound, followed by a low groan.

I stop in my tracks, my eyes zeroing in on my room.

Another moan, higher-pitched this time, flows through the door, with the sound of something banging against the wall.

Axel stills beside me, and a smile spreads on his face. “I guess we found them.”

I nearly choke as I turn away, speed walking towards the end of the hall we just entered. Axel’s right behind me, and I swear I hear him snort when Mandy moans something very unrepeatable. I want to be horrified, but a part of me is just… proud of her.

“My room is the next one on the left.” He says from behind me.

“I’m not sharing with you,” I say, acting stubborn.

“Do you wanna sleep in the car? I’ll even take the chair, Cross my heart.” He says, mimicking a cross.

I roll my eyes so hard it nearly gives me a headache, but truthfully? I’m too tired to argue. Too tired to pretend I’m not aching inside.

He unlocks his door, stepping inside, gesturing like a gentleman.

“After you, roomie .”

I glare at him. “Don’t say it like that.”

He tilts his head, acting innocent. “Say it like what?”

“Like it’s your fantasy come true.”

He closes the door behind us, tossing the keycard onto the nightstand. The room is dim, the lamp by the end casting a golden glow over the single double mattress that sits dead centre like the final nail in the coffin.

I don’t move, but neither does he as we stare at it.

“Relax,” he says, moving to take off his shoes. “I told you I’ll take the chair.”

“You better.”

“Unless you beg.”

“Axel.”

He chuckles, pulling out the creaky wooden chair and dragging it towards the far side of the room. “Jesus, I missed this.”

I sit on the bed, watching him. “What, me threatening your life?”

His grin is slow, unapologetic. “No. You being in my space. Mad as hell. Looking like that .”

I roll my eyes, but I can feel the heat crawling up my neck. I look behind me, cursing internally about getting myself into this situation.

Two pillows. One blanket.

One bed.