“What do you want?” Axel snaps standing up from the couch.
“You think you can just kiss me like you’re trying to consume my fucking soul, and then leave like nothing happened?” Harlow spits out, rounding the couch to stand in front of Axel.
Oh.Oh, boy.
I move closer to Cass who has followed Harlow down here. He stares at his brother for a moment then looks down at me. “Come on. They need to deal with their shit and I don't think we should be here while that happens," Cass says. I nod, taking one last look at the woman who owns my heart without even knowing it, and the man who keeps me from caving in on myself when the memories get to be too much. I hope by the end of this, everything is resolved and no one is dead.
Harlow
ITRIED NOT TO LETit get to me back at the club. I really fucking tried. But no matter how much the guys tried to calm me down, every second after he left, my rage and hurt grew into an unavoidable knot twisting inside of me. And right now, with all the pain from the past mixing with his most recent infraction, it’s all about to fucking explode like fucking Mentos in a Coke bottle. Any patience I might have had with him is now nonexistent. We are going to get to the bottom of this before we leave this room, or he’s leaving in a fucking body bag.
“Please,” Axel scoffs. “It was just a kiss. Don’t read too much into it. You were naked, I reacted,” he says, brushing off my previous comment.
“Bull. Fucking. Shit. Just admit it.” I laugh, stepping up to him. We stand there chest to chest as we stare each other down.
“Admit what?” he asks, his low voice turns husky, and damn it if my pussy doesn't throb at that sound.
“That you love me!” I yell, raising my brows. I’m completely exacerbated that he’s continuing to be so stubborn.
His nostrils flare, and his eyes narrow, but he says nothing. He doesn't admit or deny it. He just steps around me and starts to storm off again.Not fucking happening.
"You will not turn your back to me!" I roar, grabbing a cue ball from the pool table, launching it, and hitting the wall next to him, sending pieces of drywall flying. He freezes and slowly turns around to look at me.
“Are you fucking crazy?” he asks, his eyes wide, then he huffs to himself, answering his own question before I get the chance to. “Of course you are, it's you we're talking about here. You're as crazy as they come."
"And just as deadly," I snark. “Something you seem to keep forgetting, but only because I haven't killed you yet.”
“You’re full of shit. You’re not going to kill me, and that threat is getting a little fucking old. Now, if you don't mind, I’m going upstairs to drink myself into the new year,” he says before turning around again.
“You are gonna stay here and fucking talk to me, damn it!”
“No,” he says, almost to the stairs.
“YES!”
“NO!”
Fuck it.He’s right, I’m not going to kill him, and stabbing or shooting him right now will only set us back. If we don't have this talk now, then I’m going to lose him. He said I was crazy before, well he's about to learn there's a whole other level of crazy hiding within me.
Slipping off my heels, I charge at him like a linebacker, letting out a battle cry as I go. He's not quick enough when turning around and I end up jumping on his back like a spider monkey, wrapping my arms around his neck as I try to put him in a sleeper hold.
“What the fuck, Harlow!” Axel shouts, trying to shake me off him. I might be five-foot nothing on a six-foot man, who’s built like a fucking lumberjack, but I can do damage if I need to.
“Talk to me, damn it!” I say through gritted teeth. Although, it might be kind of hard for him to talk with my arm around his neck, but you know what I mean. “Stop running, and just fucking talk to me.”
“Let me go,” he chokes out, his hands trying to pry my grip loose. But he's not trying his hardest as he's being careful not to hurt me. When he can’t use force to get me off of him, he kind of just gives up, his body going limp in defeat. Sliding off him, I steady myself, thinking we’re about to have that talk when I realize that fucker was just faking. He tries to head for the door again, but I grab the cue stick and whack him in the stomach.
“Fuck!” he grunts, bending over and coughing. “You’re really fucking psycho. You know that?” he says, falling to his knees. I did hit him pretty hard, but at least there won't be a scar...this time.
“Why do you hate me?” I growl, moving to loom over him. He looks up at me, fury oozes from his eyes along with so much more. “Why is it that when everyone else accepts me for who I am, you look at me like I’m a monster?”
Axel lets out a frustrated sigh, moving to stand with a grunt and a grimace before turning around, the opposite way of the exit. I move, making it obvious that I’m in the way of his only escape route.
“I don't hate you,” he grumbles, leaning over the side of the pool table opposite of me. He bows his head, his breathing deep and heavy. “That's the problem.” He looks up at me, his piercing, green eyes hold all of my attention.
“What did I ever do to you that caused you to be this way with me? I got it in the beginning. I’m a lot to handle, but everyone else learned to deal and got to know the new me. Why not you?” I ask, mimicking his pose against the pool table.
“Because. I told you I loved you and you rejected me. So now every time I look at you, I see what I will never have. Why wasn't I good enough? You didn't want me then, why would I be good enough for you now? I kept thinking that loving you hurts too much, and that maybe, hating you will lessen the pain!” he shouts.