My heart hurt, listening to him.
It hurt for Axl.
And it hurt for his mom.
“God, Axl. That’s awful,” I spoke truth.
“Yeah. Not as bad, but still bad, Dad doesn’t even fuckin’ notice.”
I said nothing.
Though I didn’t because this made me angry.
Yup.
Official.
Even not meeting the man, I really was not liking his dad.
Axl spoke on.
“So, there you go. When we really dig into all that, it’s going to be aggravating. But now you know that isn’t all going to be on you, it’s the same coming from my end.”
“That doesn’t thrill me to bits,” I shared honestly. “Because I don’t like that for you. Or your mom.”
He grinned. “Yeah. Still.”
Yeah.
The “still” part of that was that we weren’t skewed with only me having the dysfunctional family.
He clearly had his share of that.
Maybe worse, having to watch his mom be like that.
“And just to say,” he carried on, “you wanna ask anything about me, ask. Work is confidential. We offer that to our clients, and we take it seriously. So I’ll never be free to talk about that.” He squeezed my hand. “But other than that, don’t hold back, Hattie. We both been waiting a long time to be right here. It feels good you wanna know about me and I want the same from you. We can have our times when we’re quiet and not sharing, and that’s okay. But if you don’t want it to be one of those times, just go for it.”
Man.
Seriously.
He was the greatest.
“Okay?” he prompted.
“Okay,” I agreed.
“Now, do you want me to swing through somewhere to get you some food? I got shit to do, but nothing that can’t wait another fifteen minutes.”
And man.
He had a lock on me.
“I’d love a bagel.”
Axl immediately started checking his mirrors.
And it was more than fifteen minutes seeing as he backtracked because we swung by Moe’s.
Considering this was a special occasion (in my mind), I went all out and got the Spicy Buff breakfast bagel, Axl got the Shorty-P, and we headed back out.
We didn’t talk much on the rest of the way to my pad, and not because we were eating. Axl said he’d hang with me at my place to eat and then he’d take off.
My joy came back because I loved that, after what Axl just gave me, I could settle into the quiet.
And I loved that he was going to essentially have lunch with me (since it was just after eleven).
What I didn’t love was, when we were nearing my house, Axl muttered, “Shit.”
I turned my attention to my pad.
Sly was standing outside it.
“Wait, is he bodyguarding again?” I asked.
“Forgot to mention, this morning when he dropped around, made a deal with Cisco. We’ve got a project we’re working on together. Seein’ as both it and you are important, we’re splitting resources. This means sometimes, it’s gonna be his guys on you, sometimes, it’s gonna be me or my guys.”
Axl offered this answer as he found a spot on the street and started to parallel park.
Of all that had impressed me that day about him, Axl talking and parallel parking at the same time was top on the list.
Though I was curious what project they were on with Brett.
Did it have something to do with him being framed for that policeman’s murder?
Sadly, it was Axl’s work and I couldn’t ask.
Instead, I inquired, “So why did you say ‘Shit’ when you saw Sly?”
“He was supposed to come when I texted that I was going.”
“And you’re upset he’s early?”
“I’m upset about the look on his face.”
I stopped looking at Axl and started studying Sly, who was walking our way.
He didn’t seem any different than normal. I’d noted he tended to appear to be in a bad mood, even when he wasn’t. And that was what he looked like now.
I got out. Axl got out.
And Sly was all about Axl.
“She doesn’t go in,” he stated immediately.
Oh no.
“What happened?” I asked, feeling a freak-out burgeoning.
Did this guy who was harassing me go from ick to gross to breaking into my house and doing something extreme?
Sly didn’t even look at me when he kept speaking.
“On the welcome mat. Outside her front door. I’ll stay here with her.”
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Axl looked a mix of grim and pissed as he stalked the four car lengths to the walkway of the house.
When he disappeared inside, I turned my attention to Sly.
“Again, what’s happening?”
He focused on me and his voice got soft.
Uh-oh.
“Chill, doll, it’s a continuation, not an escalation.”
“And you’re saying that’s good.”
“I’m sayin’, when you got some asshole bein’ an asshole to you, that sucks. But him just continuing to be an asshole is better than the alternative.”
Well, that semi-explained it.
“What is it? More pictures?” I pushed.
“Maybe your man should—”
“It’s my life, my apartment, my stalker, Sly,” I snapped.
Yeesh.
I mean, I didn’t want to be ugly, he was looking out for me, and although Brett was paying him, it was still nice.