Sloane (31 page)

“Axel, you didn’t care about me. You treated me like
shit when I showed up asking for your help.”

He looked down at his shoes. “It was because you were
different.”

“What?”

He raised his gaze defiantly. “You weren’t the Leigh
I knew. You showed back up, and you were pathetic, and you were
hung up on some guy, and you weren’t interested in having fun
anymore, and—”

“That’s no reason to—”

“Let me finish,” he snapped. “I didn’t get it. Not
then. But you and me, Leigh, we used to be the same. Neither of us
had lasting relationships. We both slept around a lot, and—”

“That wasn’t the same,” I said. “I wanted a
relationship. But I also wanted to get laid. And I knew that if I
had sex with the same guy too many times, I’d start getting
attached. You couldn’t get attached if your life depended on
it.”

He smirked. “Oh, you’re so sure of that, huh?”

“I know you.”

“No,” he said. “You
knew
me. But when you
showed back up here asking for help, you were different. And maybe
I’m
different now. Is that outside the realm of possibility
for you to even consider?”

I started to say something, and then what he’d said
started to sink in. I shook my head. “You can’t expect me to
believe that you’re
actually
into her.”

His face twitched.

“No way, Axel. You don’t do that. You’re using her
for something, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out
what.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I just like her,
Leigh. Okay? I like her.”

“Why?” I said. “She’s not the kind of girl you would
like. She’s not flashy. She’s not sophisticated. She’s quiet and
unassuming and shy and ordinary. And what would you want with a
girl like that?”

Axel shook his head. “Maybe you’re not so different,
after all, Leigh. I used to be your best friend, but you don’t know
a thing about me. And now you claim Sloane’s your best friend, but
it’s pretty obvious you don’t know her either.” He turned and went
down the hallway.

I started to go after him, but I hesitated. Why was I
getting myself involved in this drama, anyway? I told myself I was
protecting Sloane, but maybe I was only trying to find a way to
distract myself from the fact that things were not good with
Griffin.

I hadn’t even seen him in hours.

Axel got in the elevator, and the doors closed on
him.

I rubbed my face. I needed to find Griffin.

I went back to the room where I’d been sleeping
earlier, and I found him there. He was in bed, the covers in
disarray. He was asleep.

I sat down on the bed and looked at him. He looked so
peaceful and innocent when he was asleep. So young, like he was
still a little boy.

I loved this man. I loved him with all of my being,
and I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. I wanted to be
close to him all the time. He made me better. He gave me someone to
care about, someone to be better for.

And he wanted to have babies with me.

And I…

Okay, I liked babies. I thought they were incredibly
neat and cute and sweet, with their tiny fingers and noses. I even
thought the way they squirmed was cute. I didn’t think I’d have a
problem with having a kid if someone just gave one to me.

But pregnancy… Oh God, pregnancy horrified me. It
seemed so foreign and wrong. It made me think of being infected.
I’d been pregnant before. Twice. And I had to admit that I’d had an
overwhelming relief when the thing was not in me anymore.

I knew that sounded horrible. I knew that everyone
else in the world thought that pregnancy was beautiful and magical.
Most women got really excited at the thought of a strange being
taking up residency in their uterus and turning their bodies into
vessels for its arrival in the world. But when I thought about
that, about being that, I was flooded with disgust and panic.

I didn’t want to feel that way. I wanted to feel
normal, the way everyone else did about pregnancy. I wanted to get
excited about it and be happy. I didn’t know how to manage it,
though.

None of the arguments or reassurances made me feel
better about it. People told me that it was normal to have fears,
and that if you just jumped right in and got pregnant, those fears
would go away. They tried to explain how natural the process was,
how spiritual, not disgusting and frightening at all.

But their explanations didn’t work, because my fears
weren’t normal fears. They were huge, and they made me feel
powerless and small.

Griffin wasn’t going to wait around forever for me.
He really wanted to have children, and I was afraid that if I
didn’t have a baby with him, he would leave.

I knew what life was like without Griffin, and I
didn’t like it at all. He completed me. He was the best thing that
had ever happened to me. I didn’t want to lose him.

However, I knew that having a baby to keep your
significant other was a bad idea.

And it was all so confusing. I wasn’t afraid of
actually having the baby. I knew that it would be difficult having
a kid. I knew that there were lots of things to be frightened about
when the baby was born. But all of those fears were normal ones,
the kinds that everyone had. Everyone worried they’d be a bad
parent. Everyone worried that their kid would get hurt. Everyone
worried that they wouldn’t know how to discipline. Everyone worried
that they’d be too tired to exist. Those fears I could handle,
because they were ordinary fears.

But I didn’t know anyone else who was afraid of being
pregnant because it made her feel like she’d lost her status as a
person and had instead become nothing more than a baby-growing
blob.

And people could tell me all they wanted that it
wasn’t true, but I knew it was. I saw the way people interacted
with pregnant women. They were somewhat freakish and no one treated
them quite the way they treated other people. People felt as if
they could come up and talk to them even if they didn’t know them.
But when they did, it was about the baby that they were growing in
their bodies, not about the woman herself. People felt like they
could touch the women’s bodies. And… well, this was a horrible
thing to admit, but I thought that pregnant women looked positively
disgusting. I thought they looked distorted and wrong, and whenever
I saw one, it made me weak with revulsion.

The thought of that happening to me…

No.

No, I couldn’t. I kept trying to pretend like I
could, for Griffin, but I just
couldn’t
.

And I didn’t think he was ever going to forgive me
for that.

The force of that thought hit me hard, and big, fat
tears started forming in my eyes. They dripped down over my
cheeks.

One of them landed on Griffin’s face.

He stirred.

Shit. I wiped at my eyes. I wanted to let him
sleep.

His eyelids fluttered open. “Doll?” he whispered.

I turned away.

He pulled me down next to him.

I huddled against his body, the thought of losing him
making me cling to him as tightly as I could. And the tears kept
coming.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

I tried to catch my breath. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry
that I’m screwed up and stupid and that I can’t be like regular
people and just want to get pregnant.”

He kissed my forehead.

“I want…” It was hard to talk because I was crying so
much. “I want to do it, but I’m too scared. And I’m screwing
everything up, and you’re going leave me, and I’m going to hate
myself, and—”

“Shh.” He stroked my hair. “I’m never going to leave
you, doll.”

“But—you said when we were locked up—” I thought he’d
sort of threatened that.

“No.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “How could I
manage without you?”

“What if I can never handle getting pregnant?” I
sobbed. “You’ll resent me. You’ll hate me for never letting you
have children, and we’ll end up a horrible, bitter couple who’s
never happy and—”

“We’ll work it out,” he murmured. “I don’t know how
yet, but we will. Maybe we try something else. The adoption thing
or the surrogate thing. Or maybe we learn how to be happy without
kids.”

“You mean that?”

He held me close. “We’ve got time, doll. French is
dead. No one’s after us anymore. We have our whole lives ahead of
us. Both of us. Together.”

I closed my eyes and hung on to him. As long as we
had each other, it would be okay. I knew that. Things had only ever
gone really wrong when we lost each other.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE

I found Axel in his destroyed living room. It was
dark and there was only the light of the moon filtering through the
windows, bathing everything with a blue-gray glow. In the darkness,
and the shadows, it looked like a war zone, and Axel was standing
in the middle of it, his head bowed.

I crept to him and placed my hand on his
shoulder.

He turned to look at me, his perfect lips
parting.

I laid my hand against his cheek.

And he tugged me into his arms.

His mouth was on me, hot and eager, and I surrendered
to his fevered kisses. I didn’t want to let go of him. I wanted to
let him engulf me. It was easier to be near him. When we were close
like this, I didn’t have to think, and right now, it felt like
nothing made sense.

But I hadn’t come up here for this, and so, with
effort, I pulled myself away.

I could barely see his expression in the shadows, but
I knew hurt when I glimpsed it. “Axel…” I started.

“Don’t,” he said, turning away. “I know what you’re
going to say.”

“You do?” I laughed a little, but my laughter sounded
hollow. “That’s funny, because I’m not really sure myself.”

“You’re going to tell me that you have to leave, and
that you think I’m awful, and that you never want to see me again.
You’re going to say that I manipulated you and that I used you.
You’re going to tell me never to try to contact you again. And
everything’s going to go back to exactly the way it was before.
Tomorrow, I’ll hire someone to come in and start cleaning this
place up. And then I’ll go back to the club, and I’ll stare at all
the women taking off their clothes. And I’ll keep going. But
everything will feel empty, because it’s not what I want
anymore.”

I started to reach for him again, but then I pulled
my hand back. “I don’t think that’s what I want either.”

He turned back around. “No?”

I fidgeted, searching for words.

“What do you want?” he whispered.

I licked my lips. “There are things I’m worried
about, Axel. If I was going to be with you, I wouldn’t want to
share you. If you thought you could keep sleeping with—”

“No,” he said. “Why would I ever want to have sex
with someone else, when touching you is a thousand times more
intense than anything I’ve ever felt before?”

I ducked my head. I felt the same way, but it was
good to hear it coming out of his mouth. “And the cocaine. I don’t
think I can—”

He winced. “Right.”

“It’s not good for you, anyway.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “I haven’t touched
any since we did it together, you know.”

“I know. But do you really think you can keep that
up?”

“I…” He rubbed his chin. “Well, I could get
help.”

“But would you? Or would you decide it was too hard
and just give up on us?”

He didn’t say anything.

I waited.

“You know, Sloane, I could make a lot of promises,
but one thing I know is that talk is really cheap. I’m sure my
father swore to my mother that he’d be devoted to her forever. The
only way we’re going to know if this can work between us is if we
try.”

“And you want to?” I needed to hear this. “You want
to be in a relationship?”

“Yes.” His voice was ragged. “God, yes.” He picked up
my hand, brought it to his mouth, and kissed the inside of my
palm.

I was melting. I couldn’t resist him. He might be bad
for me, but he might… oh, he might be so, so good for me. I wanted
to give him a chance. I wanted to give
us
a chance.

I stepped closed and kissed him slow and deep.

He eased his arms around my waist, sighing against
me, content.

“But how does it work?” I breathed. “You live here. I
live in West Virginia. What do we do?”

He considered. “I don’t know if I can live in West
Virginia.”

I giggled.

“We’ll just have to travel,” he said. “You have
school, and you should concentrate on that, I guess. But we’ll have
the summer.”

“Actually,” I said. “I’m sort of graduating.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You are?”

“And I only went to West Virginia because Silas
wanted to go there. And he only wanted to go there so that he could
kill this guy named Rolf, which he already did. Well, Christa did
it, but… the point is, I don’t have any real attachment to that
place.”

His lips curved into a smile. “So, stay. Stay here.
Stay with me.”

“I could move to Boston.” I grinned back. “But I
don’t know if I can get an apartment quite as fancy as this
one.”

He shook his head, and his hands began to roam over
my back and shoulder blades. His voice dropped. “No, don’t get an
apartment. Don’t just move to Boston. Move
here
. With
me.”

I gasped as his hands began to send shivers over my
skin. “Move in with you? But Axel, we’ve barely been officially
together for three minutes. Don’t you think we’re moving too
fast?”

“No.” His fingers went under my shirt, dancing over
my flesh. “I don’t really think I want to spend another night away
from you.”

I closed my eyes.

He kissed my neck. My ear lobe. He cupped my breasts
with both his hands, rubbing circles around my nipples.