Page 33

T he morning air is cool as I pound out the last few miles of my run. The burn in my muscles and the rush of adrenaline are exactly what I need right now. Kane’s keeping stride with me. Damn, I needed this—getting out of the haze of alcohol-fueled sleep and pounding out some anger.

But my brain refuses to shut up about last night. Can’t believe he tried to drown me…while fingering me. It’s beyond messed up, and I should be completely mortified. But instead, I’m weirdly unsettled.

Something shifted between us. After he practically drowned me, he held me in the shower. It was almost…intimate.

The thought makes me want to hurl. Axel Hawthorne and intimacy? Please. He’s about as capable of affection as a brick wall. And yet, something shifted. Tiny, almost nonexistent, but it was there.

I slow as we near the house and spot the Range Rover parked outside. Sweat’s dripping down my back and face, and my hair’s a complete mess.

Seriously, why does he want me to drive this? It’s just a black SUV—basic and boring.

“Come on, boy,” I call to Kane as we head inside. His big paws thump softly behind me, and the cool air greets us.

I snag a water bottle from the fridge and chug half of it. Kane nudges my hand, and I glance down, giving him a grateful smile. I might be stuck with Axe, but at least Kane’s a win.

“If I’d known I’d be babysitting you, I would’ve asked for hazard pay.” Griffen’s voice cuts through my thoughts. I whirl around to find him lounging against the kitchen island, arms crossed. “He left strict instructions.”

“Of course he did,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “Why the hell do I need to use that SUV?”

“It’s armored,” Griffen deadpans.

“Armored? As in bulletproof?”

“Yeah. Blast-proof, too. It’s got a panic room built in—locks down, keeps you safe. Comes with weapon storage, run flats, and a few other goodies. It’s not quite a tank, but it’ll handle most threats.”

“Most?” I echo.

“Not much can stop a well-placed missile,” he adds, as if it’s just a casual observation. I give him a skeptical look, wondering if he’s joking. “Axe’s enemies aren’t exactly the types to care about collateral damage.”

“Right,” I say slowly. “So, if someone decides to launch a missile at the car, I’m toast?”

“Exactly,” he replies.

“Well, let’s hope that doesn’t happen.”

“That’s the spirit,” Griffen says with a wink.

“Why does he even have a car like that? Isn’t he supposed to be immortal or something?”

He chuckles. “Yes, he is. But the car isn’t for him. It was custom-made for you. Picked it up while you were ‘vacationing’ in the Hamptons,” he adds with a smirk that says he knows it was anything but a fun getaway.

My eyebrows shoot up. “What? Why would he do that?”

“Guess he doesn’t want to lose his favorite toy.” He shrugs, pouring himself a coffee.

“I’m not a toy,” I snap, irritation lacing my voice.

He arches an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Aren’t you?” he teases. “From what I’ve heard, the two of you are quite?—”

“He tried to drown me last night,” I cut him off, voice sharp. “There is no ‘two of us’.”

He shrugs. “Sounds kinky.”

“What is wrong with you? It was not kinky. He tried to drown me, Griffen.”

“Okay, doll, I’m sure you didn’t enjoy it all,” he says with a chuckle, taking a leisurely sip of his coffee.

“What is wrong with both of you?” I shake my head, disbelief lacing my words.

“Look, I’m just saying, he doesn’t give a damn about anyone or anything. Except Kane, and now, apparently, you. So take that as you will. The fact that he had a bulletproof, explosion-proof car customized for you...that says something.”

“You’re wrong,” I say, my voice firm.

He quirks a brow at me. “Am I? I’ve known him a hell of a lot longer than you. He’s never done anything like this for anyone.”

“Maybe he did it because I’m Conrad’s daughter,” I counter, grasping at straws. “He probably doesn’t want to piss off the Sovereign,” I continue, attempting to rationalize it. “He’s just protecting his own ass.”

“Maybe,” he says, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Except Axe doesn’t give a fuck about pissing off the Sovereign. He does what he wants when he wants. He doesn’t answer to anyone, especially your father.”

“I’m done talking about this,” I declare, cutting him off.

Axe doesn’t care about anyone, certainly not me. He’s an abusive, sadistic bastard, and the last thing I need is for anyone to make me second-guess that.

“Don’t you want to know how many people he’s asked me to babysit for him?” Griffen asks, a wry smile playing at his lips.

“No,” I reply, perhaps a bit too quickly. “I don’t care.”

“Zero,” he says, ignoring my dismissal. “Until now.”

I shrug it off. “I’m going to get ready for rehearsal.”

“Have fun!” he calls after me, laughing.

As I make my way upstairs, his words bounce around in my head. I don’t want to believe him, but a nagging part of me wonders if there’s something to what he said.

Why the hell would Axe go through the trouble of customizing an armored vehicle for me? Why was he so insistent on bringing me back with him when I could’ve stayed in the Hamptons until this mess blew over?

There has to be a rational explanation. Like Griffen said, I’m just his favorite little toy, and he doesn’t want anyone else touching it. He’s possessive and controlling—that’s all this is. There’s no other reason.

Axe is a man who seems to do everything with an agenda.

But I can’t shake the feeling that maybe his motives aren’t what I think they are.

He’s made it clear he despises my father. So why would he go out of his way to protect the daughter of the man he hates? It doesn’t make sense. Still, that annoying little voice keeps whispering that maybe, Griffen was right…and he does feel something towards me.

I shake away the thoughts. I need to focus on my routines, not some psychopathic immortal with a death wish.

I pull into the Pavilion’s parking lot and check the clock—early, perfect. That gives me some time to check out the new aerial set Dom had installed. The heights are insane, and I can’t wait to push my limits. Flying through the air, testing boundaries—that’s where I come alive.

As I kill the engine, my phone buzzes with a new text.

Axe: If you deviate from the route back home, I’ll know.

Me: Wtf. Are you tracking me?

Axe: Don’t break the rules, little siren.

Me: You’re insane.

Axe: Behave.

I roll my eyes, sighing as I toss the phone into my bag. Unbelievable. As if driving around in a damn armored vehicle isn’t ridiculous enough, now he’s tracking my every move. Just perfect.

Shaking my head, I grab my water bottle, swing open the door, and step out, locking the SUV behind me with a click.

Rehearsal progresses smoothly, the new routines coming together after a few solid runs. By the time we break for lunch, my muscles are screaming for a break, and my mind’s not far behind.

I trail after the girls, eager for a few minutes to unwind in my dressing room.

Just as I’m about to slip inside, Alicia’s shrill voice slices through the air, stopping me dead in my tracks. “Rory!”

I turn, already regretting it.

“What?” I bite back, eyeing her up. Her manicure is perfect, as always, and her dark hair falls in glossy waves, but the Botox has her looking frozen.

“Delighted to see you survived your little Hamptons escapade,” she drawls, her smile dripping with fake concern. “Must’ve been...lovely. That Hawthorne, quite the intriguing man,” she adds, her eyes sweeping over me with disdain.

I keep my arms crossed, refusing to let her see me flinch. “Well, here I am, in one piece,” I say, matching her icy tone with a tight smile. “So, you can relax.”

“Oh, of course,” she purrs, her smile widening. “As your stepmother, I’m just thrilled you’re safe.”

“You’re not my stepmother.”

“But I am. Anyway, Olivia’s been working hard on her new routines. Almost as good as you. She’s got so much potential. Maybe she’ll even replace you as the lead Siren.”

I bite down hard on my tongue, fighting the urge to slap that smug grin off her face. She’s not worth it. Dad would lose his mind.

“And she and Dom?” Alicia’s voice drops, her gaze locking onto mine. “They’ve gotten quite close.”

“Is there a point to this?”

“No,” she says with a careless shrug, as if her words were nothing. “Just thought you’d want to know.” Smirking, she struts away.

What a bitch.

She’s always had a thing for wanting what’s mine. I’ve stopped wasting my breath arguing with Dad; he refuses to see how she tries to pit him against Spencer and me. But Olivia? She’ll never replace me as the lead Siren. She doesn’t have the grit, the skill, or the commitment.

Just another spoiled little princess who probably only made the cut because she—or more likely, Alicia—gave Bradley a special performance.

Dom’s not an idiot. He’s a perfectionist, obsessed with every detail. There’s no way he’d risk his precious routines by shoving someone like Olivia into the spotlight. Alicia is just trying to get under my skin.

I let out a slow breath, releasing the anger with it.

Practice picks back up, and Dom doesn’t hold back. He pushes us until we’re drenched in sweat, muscles screaming. But we need to be perfect—the show’s just a week away.

Every time Dom calls out Olivia’s mistakes, I can’t help but smirk. She’s floundering, and it’s painfully obvious.

When practice finally wraps up, the sun’s dipping low, and I’m sore all over, but it’s a good ache.

The kind that reminds me I’m exactly where I belong.