"Sadie," Rowan starts, but I cut her off.
"Did you know too?" I demand, whirling on her. "Did everyone know except me?"
"No," she says quickly. "I had no idea. But Sadie, we need to call the police back. Tell them what's happening."
I clutch the photo to my chest, my mind racing. "Poppy. Where's Poppy?"
"She's fine," Rowan assures me. "She's inside asleep."
Relief makes me dizzy for a moment, but it's quickly replaced by cold determination. "I need to go inside. Now. I need to see her."
"Of course," Rowan says.
I turn to Axel, who's watching me with anguish in his eyes. "I trusted you," I say, my voice breaking. "I let you in. And you lied to me."
"I was trying to protect you," he repeats, his voice hollow. "Give you one night of peace before?—"
"Before what?" I demand. "Before my ex-husband steals my daughter? Before he has me arrested for theft? Before my entire life falls apart?"
"Sadie, please." He reaches for me again. "Let me help you through this."
I back away, shaking my head. "No. You don't get to decide what I can and can't handle. You don't get to filter my reality to suit what you think I need."
"That's not what I was doing," he insists.
"Isn't it?" I laugh, the sound brittle and sharp. "That's exactly what Elliot used to do. Keep things from me 'for my own good.' Make decisions about my life without consulting me."
The comparison lands like a slap. Axel flinches, pain flashing across his face.
"I'm nothing like him," he says quietly.
"Prove it," I challenge. "By respecting me enough to let me handle my own life. My own problems."
We stare at each other across the darkened parking lot, the chasm between us suddenly wider than the physical space. Part of me wants to forgive him, to understand why he did what he did. But the larger part, the part that's been fighting for survival, for control, for the right to make my own choices, is screaming that this is exactly what I've been afraid of all along.
"I need to go," I say, turning away from him. "I need to be with my daughter."
"Sadie," Axel calls after me, his voice breaking. "Please. Let me explain."
I pause at the bottom of the stairs, not turning around. "Not now. Maybe not ever."
I follow Rowan up the stairs, my legs weak and shaking. Behind me, I hear Axel call my name again, but I don't look back. Can't look back. If I see the pain in his eyes, I might crumble, and I can't afford to crumble right now. Not with Elliot circling, threatening everything I've built.
Chapter 22
Axel
Iwatch her disappear up the stairs with Rowan, every muscle pulled tight with the need to follow, to fix this, but I force myself still, hands curling into fists at my sides just to keep from going after her, and after him.
The sound of their apartment door closing, three distinct clicks of the locks engaging, feels like a physical blow.
"Fuck!" I slam my fist against the side of my truck, skin splitting over my knuckles as a sharp ache bites up through my wrist and into my forearm. I welcome it, almost do it again, but stop myself. Pain won't fix this. Nothing will fix this right now.
I climb into my truck but don't start the engine. My hands are shaking too badly to drive. The image of Elliot's smug face burns in my mind, that calculated smirk, the casual way he threatened her, called her his wife. I should have hit him. Should have wiped that superior look off his face with my fist.
No. That would have made everything worse. Given him more ammunition against Sadie.
I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white, trying to control the violent thoughts racing through my mind. I've never wanted to hurt someone the way I want to hurt Elliot. Never felt this kind of primal, protective rage before.
