Page 29 of No Mistakes (No Mercy #2)

AXEL

I can’t fucking believe we’re here again.

I knew we needed to come back if we wanted to take back what’s rightfully ours and to protect the people we love most. I just wasn’t ready to feel… this .

Heartbreak, loss, hate .

No one speaks as we sit outside the house, waiting for someone to make the first move. I watch as Carter climbs out of Ant’s car, shortly followed by Gunnar, who moves towards the trunk to get the bags.

Eva shifts beside me, her presence giving me a form of comfort as I remember every bad interaction that happened behind those doors.

Every step I took to keep my brothers safe started here.

Every choice I made, every deal, every body I buried.

It all leads back to this place.

My hands grasp the steering wheel tighter as I prepare myself, the leather groaning under my touch.

I see Eva’s head turn towards me from the corner of my eye, her mouth opening slightly as if she wants to say something. But that moment is quickly erased when Mandy knocks on her window, opening Eva’s door.

“Your rescue party has arrived, m’lady,” Mandy sings, one hand holding the door, the other outstretched towards the house.

Eva rolls her eyes, but gives Mandy a faint smile while she climbs out. The second she shuts the door, the quiet returns. I look out the windshield, spotting my brothers huddled together, staring at the entrance. I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn’t even hear Flynn exit the car.

I stay behind the wheel, staring at the house. I don’t know what I expected. Maybe the illusion that time would have dulled the sharp edges of memory. That the cracks in the walls would have sealed themselves. That the ghosts might have moved on.

I step out slowly, my boots hitting the driveway like I’m walking into enemy territory. The wind slices through the trees, scattering dry leaves across the stone like whispers. The gate behind us closing with a soft groan, locking us in.

Gunnar tosses a bag over his shoulder, whistling low his head tilts back, looking up at the house. “Still standing, huh?”

“Barely,” Carter mutters, scanning the area like he’s cataloguing every difference from when we left.

Ant doesn’t say anything, not even a snarky remark on his phone, and I can’t help but fear that I’ve made everything worse for him.

This place isn’t just a house. It’s a scar that never healed. Not just for me, but for all of us.

The air is heavier, thicker. Like the walls remember everything we tried to forget.

We make our way towards the entrance. The grand doors creak when I push them open, the scent of dust and old wood wrapping around me like a chokehold as I step inside.

I look in front of me, staring towards the hallway that leads to the kitchen, a memory burning into my brain as my father’s voice echoes in my head, sharp and angry.

“Stop shielding them, Axel. They’re not children.”

I push Carter behind me, making sure to keep him out of harm’s way. My fists are clenched, blood dripping from my knuckles as I stare at our father.

“You want someone to take the heat? Take me. Leave them the fuck alone.”

I shake my head, forcing the memory away, just as Eva brushes past me, her arm catching mine slightly. I catch the faint smell of her perfume, something soft and citrus, something that doesn’t belong in a house like this.

“Kitchen is which way?” She asks, her fingers pointing in every direction possible, as if she’s waiting for me to say stop.

“Down this hall, on the left,” I say, pointing down the one I was staring at intensely. “Last time I was in it, I shattered a plate against the wall.”

She pauses but doesn’t comment. Just turns and heads down the hallway. Mandy follows, already pulling off her jacket and talking about exploring the upstairs.

I walk through the foyer, boots echoing across the cracked marble floor. The furniture is still draped in white sheets, like corpses waiting to be revealed. I grip the bannister as I climb the spiral staircase, every step a weight pressing on my chest.

Upstairs, the doors are all closed. I open the one to my old room and stop dead.

Nothing’s changed.

The desk I used to sit at, mapping out deals and routes while pretending to study for school.

The bed where I collapsed more times than I can count, still dressed in blood-soaked clothes, and the closet that hid more than just clothes.

All of it remains the same. All untouched as if it’s frozen in time.

I swallow hard, taking a step inside, running my fingers over my desk.

“Axel?”

I turn at the sound of her voice.

Eva stands in the doorway, her fingers curled around the frame. She looks around the room, her eyes lingering on each object for a second, as if she’s making a mental note of everything I own.

“You okay?” she asks quietly.

I open my mouth, ready to lie and tell her everything is okay. But I lost her once by lying. I’m not going to let that happen again.

“No.”

She walks in, and I move to sit on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, hands locked together.

I don’t look at her. I can’t.

“It’s hard to hate you,” she says, voice soft. “I’m trying, but for some reason. I can’t.”

“I would hate me forever,” I murmur.

She kneels in front of me, her hands brushing against my thighs. “Why did you never come back here?”

I glance down towards her, our eyes locking. The sight of her alone nearly knocks the wind out of me.

“Because I was too busy making sure they didn’t end up like me.”

Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t flinch.

“Why do you always have to be the one who takes the hit?” she asks.

“Someone has to.”

We don’t say anything, my words hanging heavy in the air. Eva lifts herself slowly, moving my hands to straddle my lap. Her hands frame my face, stopping me from looking away.

“Look, Axel. I’m not the type of girl who expects the world,” she whispers. “All I’m asking for is for you to let me in. Even if it’s just a crack.”

My fingers dig into her waist. The weight of this house, the past, the expectations… It all threatens to crush me. But she’s here. And somehow, her presence makes it bearable.

“I don’t know how,” I admit.

“I’ll wait,” she says, brushing her lips against mine. “I won’t walk away again, Axel, as long as you let me in when I ask.”

The kiss isn’t urgent. It’s a question, a promise, a thread tying us together tighter than before. My hands tangle in her hair, my mouth answering hers, and for the first time since stepping back into this house, I feel something other than rage.

I feel peace.

Her lips hover against mine for a second longer, like she’s not ready to let go of this moment. She pulls back slowly, resting her forehead against mine. “They’re waiting for you downstairs.”

I exhale through my nose and nod. Of course they fucking are.

She brushes her thumb along my cheekbone before sliding off my lap. The space between us stretches like an elastic band threatening to snap.

I watch as she straightens her shift, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly looking far too composed for someone who just had her mouth on mine.

“I’ll go first,” she says, turning towards the door.

I don’t stop her. I just sit there for a moment longer, dragging a hand over my face, preparing myself for what is to come.

I stand, grabbing my jacket from where I’d tossed it on the bed. My fingers brush the familiar fabric of the collar, soft, worn, older than most of the scars on my body. It belonged to my father once, back before everything turned to blood and ash.

The closer I get to the stairs, the louder the voices become. Mandy is laughing, Carter is saying something so quiet, not even a mouse can hear it, and someone is already opening and slamming doors, which sounds suspiciously like a liquor cabinet.

By the time I enter the living room, Eva’s already across the room, standing beside Mandy next to the fireplace.

She glances up when I enter, and there’s something unreadable in her expression.

She doesn’t smile, doesn’t wave, but her eyes don’t look away either.

They stay locked on mine as I walk further into the room.

Carter raises a brow, halfway through removing the white sheets from the furniture. “You survived the ghosts then?”

“Just about,” I mutter, leaning against a wall, facing them all. Gunnar tosses me a bottle of water, and I catch it with one hand, giving him a silent thank you with the nod of my head.

Mandy moves across the room towards Ant, who is currently staring out the window, looking at the overgrown garden. The pool is murky, leaves and debris floating on the surface, but the shape of it, the memories of laughter and cannonballs and late-night swims, still linger in the air.

I walk over, joining them. Mandy looks over her shoulder and leans in just enough to speak quietly so the others can’t hear.

“You okay?”

I glance down at her, at the concern in her eyes, and nod. “Getting there.”

She nods back, returning her gaze to the window to admire the garden. “We need to clean this place up. If we’re staying, we can’t live in dust and darkness,” she says.

Gunnar groans instantly at the word ‘clean.’ “You mean we have to work?”

“Don’t start,” Carter says, already halfway through the room, a bundle of sheets wrapped under his arm. “The sooner we get this place more livable, the sooner we can figure out our next move.”

Our next move…

That’s why we’re here. Not to wallow in the past or rip open old wounds, but to take back control. To reclaim what’s been stolen. This house is just the first step.

I look around the room, at the people around me.

My brothers. The women who chose to come with us into the fire.

I smack my hands together, rubbing them as I take the lead of the situation in front of us.

“Get the music on, it’s time to get your aprons, boys,” I announce.

Carter stops immediately, dropping the sheets and running out of the room. “I call dibs on mom’s!”