Page 22

T wo days have passed since Bradley vanished. No one has seen or heard from him, and he hasn’t attended any Sovereign meetings.

The masked man somehow made Bradley disappear. I feel conflicted about it. Bradley tried to rape me, so he deserved some punishment, but did he really deserve to die?

The masked man doesn’t understand the Sovereign or their power. Bradley was an asshole, but he was also a Sovereign with connections. I can’t reveal the truth since my oath prevents me from sharing about their existence. I can only hope the masked man knows what he’s doing.

I don’t even know how he got my number. What client told him about me. Now, he knows my real name and where I work—something I’ve never shared with any client. I trusted him, though. Maybe it was the way he held me, the tenderness in his touch after being so rough and brutal. He made me feel safe, protected. I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s driving me crazy. I need to see him again. I need to know his name.

Dom runs us through rehearsal. We’ve been going at it all day. Every muscle in my body screams in exhaustion.

“You have two days off. Be back here ready to work,” Dom shouts to the group. As I head to my dressing room, Lana follows, flopping onto the leather couch while I sit at the vanity.

“Kyla messaged us. She’s going to Jamie’s party tonight and wants us there too.”

“I don’t know,” I say, wiping off my makeup. “I’m not really up for a party right now.”

“Come on,” she pleads. “We haven’t been out in a while, and Jamie’s parties are always fun.”

“Fine,” I sigh. The last thing I want is to return home and dodge Griffen. I haven’t spoken to him since he followed me to my car, and I have no intention of ever talking to him again. “I’ll drive. Do you have something I can wear? I didn’t bring anything.”

“Yes,” she squeals, texting Kyla. After a quick shower, I do my makeup and hair. Lana hands me a short pink sundress.

We hop into my G-Wagon and drive to Jamie’s party. The penthouse is packed, and the music is blasting. We weave through the crowd to the bar. Grabbing a bottle of vodka, I pour a few shots. Lana downs one, her face grimacing. I pour a couple more, and we knock them back.

The alcohol burns but offers a welcome distraction. I scan the crowd, searching for Kyla. The warmth spreads through my body, and my mind starts to relax. This is exactly what I needed.

We move to the dance floor. The crowd pulses, bodies moving in sync with the thumping beat.

I’ve lost count of how many drinks I’ve had, but I don’t care. Finally, I spot Kyla in the corner on some guy’s lap. I stumble over to her, and she looks up at me, a lazy smile spreading across her face.

“Hey girl,” she slurs. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Me too,” I yell over the music. My eyes dart to the man she’s sitting on, and my mood immediately sours.

It’s Griffen. He’s lounging in a large armchair, a half-empty glass in his hand, and Kyla is grinding against him. The look on his face is dark, and he’s clearly enjoying the attention. I turn away, heading back to the bar.

Grabbing another shot, I swallow it, the alcohol burning my throat.

“Fancy seeing you here, doll.” I turn around to see Griffen standing there with a cocky smirk. “Having fun?”

“I was. Until you showed up.”

He chuckles. “That hurts.” He leans against the bar, his eyes traveling down my body.

“I’m sure your ego will survive.” Pouring another shot, I down it one gulp and slam the glass on the bar. “What do you want?”

“A drink,” he says, holding up his glass, his smirk growing. I slide a bottle over to him, and he fills his glass, the amber liquid splashing.

“Why are you here, Griffen?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He slowly sips his drink, his eyes never leaving mine. He’s dressed casually, his shirt clinging to his muscles. His dark brown hair is tousled perfectly, and the cuts and bruises on his face are fading, his injuries healing.

“You could,” I reply, leaning against the bar, mirroring his stance.

“I’m here for a good time, same as you, I suppose.” He finishes his drink and refills his glass. The alcohol flows through my veins, making my body relax slightly.

“What happened to your face?”

“Aww, are you worried about me, Rory?” His smirk morphs into a cocky grin, and I feel heat rise in my cheeks. “I’m flattered.” He places a hand on his chest, his smile growing.

“No. I figured if someone could beat your ass, they’re worth meeting.” My words are cold, but the effect is ruined when drunk laughter bubbles out of me.

“Oh, doll, you are bratty. I like it.”

“I’m not your doll, and you don’t get to like anything about me.” My words are harsh, but the anger is missing. Before he can respond, a loud voice booms from behind us.

“Rory, what the fuck are you doing here?” I turn and see Jamie with an uncharacteristic scowl.

Why does he look mad at me?

He starts to speak, but Griffen steps forward. “Everything’s good, Jamie, just having a drink with the little spitfire.” Jamie’s eyes are locked on Griffen. “You don’t need to worry about anything. Trust me.”

I start to walk toward Jamie to hug him, but I’m suddenly yanked back. Griffen’s arm snakes around my waist, pulling me flush against his body.

“Just let him go,” he whispers in my ear, his breath warm and making my heart race.

Stupid Hawthornes and their stupid effect on me.

I pull away from Griffen. “What the hell was that? Jamie has never looked at me like that. Something’s really bothering him.”

“Calm down, Rory. It’s nothing.”

“No.” I stomp after Jamie, determined to find out what’s going on. He’s one of my oldest Sovereign friends. If something’s up, I’m going to find out.

“Jamie! What the hell?” I catch up to him, and he stops, turning around, his blue eyes hard and his expression serious.

“What are you doing here, Rory?”

“What do you mean? I always come to your parties.”

“Where is Axe?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t care. Now, why are you acting like this?”

He grabs my arm and pulls me into the hallway, away from the crowds.

“Rory,” he sighs, his eyes softening. “Axe came to my house. He made it very clear how he felt about us hooking up.” My mouth falls open, and my heart sinks. “So, excuse me for not being too happy to see you here.”

Axel did what?!

“Shit, Jamie. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he did that.”

“It’s fine. I healed.” He laughs, but it’s forced. “He told me what would happen if he caught me near you again. So, please, stay the hell away from me.”

“Jamie,” I plead, not knowing what to say.

Shaking his head, he walks away, leaving me shell-shocked.

I storm back to the bar, ready to confront Griffen, but he’s gone too.

I pour myself another drink and down it, the alcohol burning my throat. The anger and frustration are overwhelming. My vision blurs, and my body warms.

Nauseous, I rush to the bathroom, barely making it before vomiting. My body convulses, the alcohol forcing its way up my throat. My chest heaves, and the bile burns. After a few moments, the retching subsides. I lean against the wall, the tile cool against my flushed skin.

Footsteps approach, and I look up to see Griffen standing in the doorway, a small smile on his face. “Having fun?”

“Go to hell.”

“Come on, doll, let’s get you out of here.”

“Don’t call me that, and don’t touch me.” He ignores me, pulling me to my feet. Wrapping his arm around me, he steadies me and leads me out.

“Where did you park?” he asks, helping himself to my car keys.

“Outside, along the curb.”

He shouts across the room to Kyla, who drunkenly stumbles after us. I grit my teeth. Great, just what I need—Kyla coming home with Griffen.

He helps me into the passenger seat of my G-Wagon, and Kyla collapses in the back, already passed out. He climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the engine with a roar. He drives in silence and throws an occasional glance my way.

I meet his gaze with a death glare, and he only smiles.

“I take it you talked to Jamie.”

“Yes! Who the hell does Axe think he is?”

“You’re asking the wrong person, but yeah, he’s a possessive motherfucker.”

“Did he do that to your face?”

“Do you really want to know?” His eyes flicker to me, his expression unreadable.

“Yes,” I reply, barely more than a whisper, but he hears me.

“Yeah,” he says, his tone flat.

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t agree with what he did to you.” Griffen sighs.

“Why do you care what he does to me?”

His jaw tightens, his eyes drifting off like he’s looking at something only he can see. “Sometimes, Axe needs saving from himself,” he mutters, like he’s tasting the bitterness before spitting it out. “His father...that bastard wasn’t even human. He broke him—physically, mentally—until nothing was left but rage. Axe learned early-on that emotions were weaknesses, just ammunition for life to tear you apart.”

I cross my arms, but his words pull at me, unsettling.

“You think Axe’s bad? The devil who raised him was the kind of evil that makes hell look soft. Every scar on Axe’s body? Those aren’t from missions, Rory. Not many men can even get close enough to make The Reaper bleed. They’re from his father. Lessons , he called them.” He snorts, his lip curling in disgust. “Lessons in beating the humanity out of him. Turning him into something else.”

My chest tightens, a flicker of something rising in me, but I stay silent, letting him continue.

“That man made Axe fight for everything—scraps, his next breath. Like a rabid animal. His world was nothing but fists, blood, and survival. And I only know about the things I saw. There’s a lot more shit he’s never talked about—can’t talk about. His father wanted him violent and untouchable. And that’s exactly what he got. You don’t survive a hell like that unless you become the monster. And Axe? He’s damn good at being the monster.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Do you feel better?”

“No,” I snap, staring out the window. “Everyone goes through shit, but not all of us turn into complete psychopaths. You’re a Sovereign and a Hawthorne. And you manage to not be a total asshole…sometimes.”

“High praise, doll.” He chuckles humorlessly. “But it wasn’t just the abuse, Rory. That was the foundation, sure, but the real breaking point? His brother’s death.”

“His brother?”

“Lucas. Axe watched him die. Right in front of him. And he blames himself for it. It destroyed whatever was left of him. After that, he didn’t just shut down—he buried everything human. Every feeling, every memory. He clings to the pain and anger because it’s easier than feeling the loss.”

I stare at him, throat tightening. “I didn’t know.”

“Of course, you didn’t.” Griffen’s voice softens, his gaze clouded with old grief. “The memories, the few good ones he has...they hurt too much. So, he keeps the pain close, lets it fuel him. The anger, the rage, the violence, they’re the only things keeping him together. Doesn’t excuse what he does, but it sure as hell explains it.”

Silence stretches between us, thick and heavy. Griffen turns off the engine, eyes fixed on the house. His jaw works like he’s wrestling with something, and then, finally, he sighs.

“There’s more to his story, Rory, but that’s for him to tell. If he ever does.”

My heart clenches. I’m almost feeling sympathy for Axe, almost . Despite his vile actions, he’s still human. I know the suffocating grief of losing someone you love, how it scars you so deeply that it feels like it’ll never heal. The grief, guilt, anger—the emptiness and loneliness that swallow you whole. The constant reminders, the haunting memories and nightmares. It’s a pain that consumes you, that changes you forever.

I’m still buzzing from the alcohol, and who knows if I’ll even remember half of this conversation by morning. But something in Griffen’s words, in the quiet pain behind his eyes, stirs something in me I don’t want to admit.

“Why did you tell me all that?”

He shrugs, trying to play it off. “Maybe I miss having a slutty roommate to argue with.”

I glare at him, but he just chuckles, the cocky jerk.

“Or maybe,” he adds, leaning in slightly, “I wanted you to know there’s more to him than what you see. And maybe…I wanted to show you that I’m not the asshole you think I am. Maybe I actually give a fuck.”

“I still think you’re an asshole,” I mutter, wiping at the sting of tears threatening to spill. “And I don’t forgive you.”

“You can keep telling yourself that,” he says with a playful wink. “But deep down, I know you like me.”

I suppress a reluctant smile.

Griffen helps Kyla out of the backseat. Her laughter spills into the night as she clings to him, her arms draped around him, trailing her mouth down his neck. I follow them inside, closing the door behind me and heading upstairs, ignoring the moans coming from the living room.

Griffen’s words about Axe’s past echo in my head, mixing with Jamie’s anger and my own swirling emotions. Everything feels too much.

I let out a long breath, trying to push it all aside, but one question sticks.

Who the hell is Axel Hawthorne... really ?