Axel.
“Dakota.” He cupped my cheek with a trembling hand, his thumb brushing away the tears I didn’t realize were falling.
Confusion swirled through me as consciousness fully returned. That’s when I spotted Mathew lying motionless on the floor, a pool of blood streaming from his head. Lying next to him was a tripod with one of the cameras that, moments ago, had been recording our nightmare. It, too, was smeared with blood.
“You’re safe now. I’m here. I’ve got you,” Axel said, his voice rough with pain and relief. “Just breathe.”
So, I did. Deep and slow, surrounded by the man I loved, feeling his heartbeat beneath my palm.
“Your side,” I wheezed, noticing the knife still protruding from between his ribs. Blood soaked through his dress shirt, turning it crimson.
Axel looked down at the blade sticking out of his body, his own breathing labored and shallow. It was like his injuries were an afterthought compared to my safety.
“I’m fine,” he claimed.
“You shouldn’t have come.” My voice was barely a whisper. “You could have been killed.”
Axel’s knuckles swept along my jaw, so gentle after all the violence. “Dakota, if you weren’t breathing on this planet, I wouldn’t want to breathe either.”
Fresh tears flooded my eyes. Not from fear this time, but from overwhelming love.
He swiped a fallen tear from my cheek with his thumb. “Let’s get you to the hospital.”
Sirens grew louder outside, and a minute later, the room flooded with police officers and paramedics rushing toward us.
The live stream was over.
And our real life was just beginning.
I pressed my face into his chest, careful to avoid his wound, and Axel held me like he would never let me go. Like nothing in this world could ever tear us apart again.
67
LIVE FROM THE TIRE SLASHER VS. FLAT-TIRE VICTIM GROUP CHAT
AXEL
I eyed the name of the group chat, wondering why none of them had changed it back yet. But then I understood. This wasn’t just about a name anymore. It was about officially putting this nightmare behind us. And that honor belonged to me.
Me: I need a favor.
Jace: Need another kitten mobile? I’m on it. [Sends GIF of a man running.]
Jace: Wait. I almost forgot. Made something for you:
Jace sent a picture of me in that cat convertible. He’d Photoshopped it into a romance book cover with the title:Duke of the Dashboard Whiskers. Book one in the Big Boys, Tiny Cars Series.
I smiled, grateful my friends were back to goading me. If they treated Dakota and me like victims, it would have bothered me extensively.
Me: Original. Do I need to pull up that picture of you on horseback again? I can make 50 romance covers and blast it online.
Blake: I just got home from my honeymoon. Don’t give me a minute to catch my breath or anything. But sure, what can I do for you, lover boy?
Me: The favor’s not for me, jackasses.
Blake: Care to be more cryptic? *bored emoji* Use your words like a big boy.
Jace: Let me guess. Dakota needs something?
