The light from the candles flows over him, highlighting the hollows under his cheekbones, the grooves on either side of his lips, the lines radiating out from his eyes. His tanned skin glows almost golden in this light. He seems like a pagan god, a deity at whose feet I must worship. An outlaw who will never follow the rules of society. A fugitive on the run from himself. A feral creature who cannot be tamed by the laws of the land. A man who’ll never bend, who’ll never concede defeat to another.
"Axel," I whisper, "who are you really?"
He bares his teeth, then flips the lid of the bottle. He upturns it on himself so the liquid splatters across his T-shirt, over his arms, his neck, his face. Then he throws the empty bottle aside. The smell of alcohol envelops me and the hair rises on the back of my neck.
"No," I whisper, "don’t do this."
I rush toward him, but it’s too late. He flicks the lighter, holds the flame to his shirt and sets himself on fire.
32
Theresa
"Nooo!" I jump forward. "Why would you do that? Axel, what the hell?" I throw myself at him. I beat at the flames, but it seems to make no difference. "No, no, no." I throw my arms around his neck and cling to him. Maybe if I plaster myself to him I can snuff out the flames. Maybe if I cling to him closely enough, so there’s no space for air between our skin, I can put out the fire? "Axel, Axel," I bury my nose in his chest, push my breasts into his chest, and that’s when I realize that the flames have gone out.
"What the hell?" I release him and stagger back to find him laughing down at me.
"Cazzo," I hiccough, "what’s wrong with you? What did you do? What happened to the flames?"
"They are gone."
"Why did you set yourself on fire?"
"A party trick." He raises a shoulder, "I poured the rubbing alcohol on myself and the flames caught. But they don’t burn."
"What?" I stare at him, "You…you…"
"Pretended to set myself on fire."
"Why would you do that?"
"To test you, of course." He smirks, "A test which you passed with flying colors, Sunshine, I—"
The next second, my palm connects with his cheek, and his neck snaps back.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he growls.
"What the hell is wrong withme? What the hell is wrong withyou?" I yell back. "You set yourself on fire, you set yourself on fire…you…you…" I throw myself at him, and I must surprise him, for when I connect with his chest, he lurches back. "You…you…stronzo." I bury my fist in his side.
He grunts.
"Youfaccia di merda." I snap my head forward; he manages to step aside. I stumble forward, but that only pisses me off further. I turn, kick out, catch him in the shin.
"Hey," he winces, then grabs my shoulder, "get a hold of yourself."
"You get a hold of yourself, you…youtesta di cazza.I hate you, I hate you. I. Hate. You." I raise my hand again, and this time, he grabs my wrist, then pivots me around and twists my arm behind my back. He hauls me back against his chest and that dark, edgy scent of his, now drenched with the smell of burnt alcohol, laces my nostrils. The heat of him surrounds me, tugs at me and I shiver. And that only makes me even more mad.
"Let go of me," I snarl.
"Nope."
I try to kick out at his legs, but this time, he anticipates my move and evades me. He yanks me back along with him, until we reach the chair where he’d been seated earlier. He drops into it, pulls me into his lap again.
"Oh, no, no, no," I wriggle in his grasp, "let go of me."
"Can’t."
"I don’t want anything to do with an idiot who sets himself on fire just to…to…" I burst into tears. Holy hell, I don’t want to cry, don’t want to cry, not over this asshole who pulled a stunt like that for… What? "Why? Why? Why did you…do that?" I finally manage to force the words out.