The Beast's Baby

by N. Alleman

  21

  Olive

  Axel isn’t with us. He’s standing right beside me but it’s like he’s not here. He doesn’t know I know about Barry’s blackmail, and I’m not going to tell him. I wonder when he will leave, but I can’t ask.

  Even as my heart constricts, I’m happy because right now I’m with him. If not for forever, at least for now.

  I watch him move around the kitchen. He starts at one side of the room and ends at a cabinet, opening it and grabbing a box of cereal he must’ve chosen when we went to the market.

  “I can’t believe you chose American food when we could experience something from Greece,” I say. But as soon as I say it, it’s a reminder to the both of us that he can’t experience it anymore because he’s leaving. I’m leaving tomorrow as well. I could stay longer, if I wanted.

  But he can’t.

  “And I can’t believe you wouldn’t let me cook.” He sidesteps closer to me, a sad look on his face. He raises his hands up in the air like he’s under arrest, feigning helplessness. “So here we are.”

  “The food Selena made was delicious.” It was simple, a pasta dish with veggies. She was trying out a recipe she’d gotten from a man at the market. They’re going to end up together, I just know it.

  “Does that bother you? Selena and Barry, I mean.”

  He pours his cereal into a bowl and stares at me as he eats.

  “Why would it?” Another spoonful goes in his mouth. I don’t know why I can’t quit watching. We’re over now. This game of pretending is getting to me.

  “Because you hate him,” I begin, then realize I need to back out of this conversation. If I’m not careful, he’s going to know I eavesdropped, and he’ll see exactly what’s going on.

  But he just shrugs at me. He finishes his food quickly—how can he eat that much and still stay so muscular?

  He sticks the bowl in the sink, giving it a quick rinse before leaving it there. He smiles as he walks past me out the door. “Final stop in Santorini, better hurry so we’re not late!”

  His forced tone betrays him. I nod after him, but he doesn’t see me. He’s already gone.

  I scavenge through the cabinets myself and grab a couple of granola bars to bring along for Lark and me.

  It’s our last day, and it’s going to be a long one.

  “What do you want to do, sunshine?” Axel picks Lark up in his arms, calling her by the new nickname she loves so much. It’s perfect for her, and I both love and hate it when he calls her that. He loves her so much, and she loves him. It’s going to break all our hearts when he goes.

  I try to clear my mind of the thought, and I hear Lark reply that she wants to go look at the little villages she saw past town, and I smile. My daughter is so simple, in the best way. She doesn’t know adult pain, or greed, any of the things that are causing us issues right now. She’s unaware of all of it.

  I make my way from the porch where I’ve been standing over to both of them, and they wave to me. Selena’s decided to stay home to get packed before our flight tomorrow, but I know exactly why she chose to stay. Her leg has gotten much better, and she has a man around. I think she’s looking for some sexy time with him.

  For a second, I close my eyes and daydream about what it would be like to be with Axel like that again. Butterflies flit around in my stomach, and I can feel my pussy growing wet as I imagine him on top of me, about to enter me. His skin rubbing against mine. My breath catches, and then a wave of sorrow overtakes me because I know this is not in my future.

  When I open my eyes again, Axel is looking at me, and he’s about to open his mouth to say something, but I beat him to it.

  “Let’s go see the little houses,” I say, smiling down at Lark as I take her hand. I can’t pick her up without hurting myself anymore—my back was sore the other day from it, and it makes me sad.

  Axel’s eyes are fixed on me. That always leaves my skin covered with goose bumps. I smile up at him, too, then, and he takes my hand.

  “Oh.” I’m not sure why the word decided to come out of my lips. I’ve lost a lot of control of what comes in and out of my mouth these days.

  “That’s right,” he responds, and this time the smile he gives me isn’t so tight, and I feel a bit of the suffocation in my chest starting to loosen. Lark completes the moment, her little hand grabbing onto Axel’s and dragging us toward the roads made of cobblestone. We’re not taking the car today.

  We’re going to look at the little houses.

  On our walk back Lark finds a beautiful white rose she decides to keep for herself. I don’t have the heart to tell her that I’m pretty sure roses like that don’t grow in Santorini, so I let her believe that it came from the sidewalk where she found it.

  Suddenly I realize that Axel is way out front and waving to catch my attention. There’s a flower cart ahead of us, spilling flowers out everywhere. He’s helping the man pick them up, and I’m pretty sure Lark finding this particular white rose wasn’t accidental.

  Although I know Axel, so maybe he did actually knock over a cart just to see smiles on our faces. Either way, it’s working. His girls are having a wonderful time.

  I keep walking away from him down to a little café where we intended to have dinner.

  It’s late now, and they’re starting to close, but they have that late night menu where you can only order specific things for a small price. I’ve always wanted to go to a place like this, but I wonder if Lark should be out this late.

  She assures me that she’s not too tired, even though she is yawning. But seeing as this is our last day together, I give in, and we order food. I pick something I want out for Axel, intending on us splitting both of our meals. Lark gets something with macaroni, and that doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.

  What does surprise me are the small flowers Axel slides behind my ear when he comes up to the table. He sits next to me, and we enjoy a wonderful meal together. This is what happiness feels like—my precious little girl and the man I’ve loved all my life, who I need more than I’ve ever needed anything.

  It’s easier tonight. He is so easy to love and to be with. We have fun, even if it’s our last day together.

  The walk back to the villa is tougher.

  But once we’re inside, it’s the hardest it’s ever been. After tucking Lark in for the night we’re at the top of the stairs before I collapse in his arms, my tears spilling out onto his chest. This isn’t the first time I’ve cried on him, but it’s the first time it’s been about him.

  And he knows it.

  He doesn’t apologize. He just holds me, whispering in my hair.

  “I have something to show you.”

  And he takes my hand and we walk the short distance back to our bedroom.

  He tells me to stay and I do, wondering if I should cover my eyes, but I don’t.

  He kneels down under the bed, pulling out his luggage. I notice that most of his clothing has been hung up in my closet, too, so I wonder what’s in there.

  “These are for you and Lark,” he says, his voice steadier than either of us could possibly feel. “Lark deserves a father, Olive. Even if you don’t want me.”

  His voice breaks, and it kills me inside. I know what this is. The envelopes, the SD cards.

  “There are videos on them,” he explains.

  He’s recorded all of them the past few days, and it explains all those times he seemed distant, and I thought he was mad at me. He was just busy, making sure that she was okay, that we were okay—”Even when I’m not there.”

  I break out in tears again. He sets it down on the bed and goes to me, and we’re moving toward each other, and falling in each other’s arms.

  His mouth is on mine, and my hands are on his skin. We touch, our hands roaming each other’s bodies like we’ll never be able to touch each other again.

  “Axel.” I kiss his throat, his shoulders. I tug at his shirt and pull it away from him as he tries to touch me, kissing his chest. His hands t
ear away my clothes, removing my panties. I burn a slow fire I’ve never felt before, and I need to take advantage of everything I can before this is extinguished.

  I fall to my knees, opening the fly of his pants. He’s hard for me, and I look up at him before I kiss the tip of his cock. I pull his pants the rest of the way down. I know how much he loves to touch me, but tonight I want to show him how much I love him.

  My tongue licks his shaft, and my eyes meet his as I take him in my mouth. I suck it lightly, taking in more and more of him, until he bumps the back of my throat.

  He threads his fingers through my hair, pulling at it as he groans. He spasms and comes in my mouth, and I swallow all of it, wanting to keep something of him inside me. He picks me up in his arms and carries me to the bed.

  He places me down on the bed and cuddles next to me. We both want more, but not enough to ask for it.

  For now, being held in his arms is enough.

  22

  Axel

  Olive’s hair sprawls over my arms and tickles me awake. It’s so easy to fall asleep with her next to me, but difficult to stay asleep the way her body curls up to mine.

  She’s so soft and warm, and I want to protect her, to make her feel as safe with me all the time. She’s made a cocoon of the blankets, and it’s silly. I move a blanket up over her shoulder, careful to keep her comfortable trying not to wake her as I stand.

  Last night was the last night.

  I need to go. If I don’t Barry will leak those pictures. It has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with Olive. If those pictures got out, her life would be ruined. I couldn’t care less about my career. I want to stay with her.

  And I will. I will be with her.

  But for now, I have to go. I have a flight to catch.

  I throw my clothes into my suitcase carelessly. I leave the one hoodie I know Olive loves.

  I’m tempted to put it on her—she’s shivering in her sleep and that blanket isn’t enough, but I don’t want to wake her up.

  That’s not completely true. Part of me wants her to wake up, so I can tell her how much I love her, so she will beg me to stay. If she does that, there’s no way I can go. But that’s not going to happen.

  Plus, all of the torment we’ve been through these past few days would be for nothing, and Barry would leak those photos of us on the beach. I clench my jaw, tensing. I have to get back to the States. Much as I don’t want to, I have to get back in the ring.

  Gently, I drape the hoodie over her. I’m about to press my lips to hers for a quick kiss, but I stop myself before I feel her breath on mine. That’d wake her up, surely.

  Fuck.

  How can I leave? I can’t be the bad boxer who doesn’t give a fuck about anyone anymore. I’ve lost the desire to destroy and punish myself. I need to be here.

  For Olive. And for Lark.

  Shit.

  I shake my head, trying to get rid of the thoughts that live in my head like demons. Then I descend the stairs, knowing that no amount of head shaking will get rid of the pain. Everything about this is wrong.

  I’m outside the house and already starting on the road when I turn around to stare at the window to the room where Olive sleeps. Finally, I turn and make my way to the waiting car. It’s still dark out, and this fits my mood just fine.

  Goddammit.

  Checking into the airport is an entirely different experience than it was checking in with Olive. Still, I can’t help but look for similarities and imagine how Olive would look standing there. I can’t stop myself from thinking about what she would say or do in any situation, and how I would react, and where it would lead us.

  Now isn’t the time to be daydreaming about what might have been. It’s time to get back to work. Time to get back to being the Axel Reign the fans know and love. At least on the outside.

  I have to be able to pass off the bad boy act I’ve had going for the past few years, and everything will be the same as it was before.

  Unfortunately, I don’t want it to be the same. I want Olive. I wonder what advice she’d have about this. She’d either say one of two things—

  Okay, no, she’d say one thing. It’s only the Olive in my imagination who would beg me to stay with her. Olive would probably just tell me I need to go. Because I do.

  And as I sit here in this uncomfortable plastic airport chair, it hits me …

  Olive told me we wouldn’t work out because she’d heard everything Barry said, and she understood.

  I had told her I’d tell her in the morning what was going on, even though I’d never intended on it.

  But I never told her.

  And she never asked.

  It never came up because she didn’t want to talk about it and make me feel worse, because she knew I would try to talk her out of it and maybe stay and make things worse.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, I am a horrible person.

  I’m about to beat the shit out of the chairs next to me when I hear some people next to me talking. A few guys, maybe one or two girls. They look to be around my age.

  I scowl, wondering if they’re about to start shit with me. Believe it or not that happens sometimes. Random tough guy trying to impress a woman, and I’m really not in the mood. But then I start to make out what they’re saying—

  “Man, is that who I think it is?”

  “Yeah, I think so. He does kind of look different. “

  “I don’t know—”

  Yeah, yeah, yeah. They’re probably debating whether the gossip they’ve heard about me is true. I’m not in the mood, so I make eye contact with one of the little twats.

  I hope he tries to hit me so I have a reason to release some of my anger, even though I have a match coming up in the next few days and getting in a fight with some random civilian isn’t going to help my reputation any.

  But I don’t give a fuck about my reputation.

  Never did.

  I’m not even out of my seat when the guy drops his eyes and says something to his friends. A few of them scatter off, but two of them walk up to me and ask for an autograph.

  So they weren’t looking to start shit in the first place. One of them peels off his shirt while the other looks for a security guard, making sure no one sees them. It’s early, though, and the place is pretty empty.

  “Strict no shirt no service rule,” one of them explains.

  I grunt and give them a quick scribble that’s nowhere near clear enough to be my name. Not that it matters. Some days I really hate being Axel Reign.

  But when the flight announces it’s time to board, it doesn’t matter who I am. I’m just another one of the cattle they herd onto the six-thirty flight departing Santorini, Greece.

  Leaving behind everything I’ve ever loved.

  As soon as I’m back in the States, I’m swarmed by people. Mobs of people with cameras and reporters with questions. I almost forgot how crazy it could get.

  But it all comes back to me rather quickly. It’s hard to forget people intruding in your business and asking you questions you’d never consider asking yourself.

  I try as hard as I can to ignore all of the questions, but the ones about Olive slip through. I turn my head to the sky instead of down, so these vampires won’t think I’m afraid of them. I could send them all crying back to their mothers if I wanted to, but since going to jail isn’t likely to improve my situation, I hold back. At the same time, I’m not putting up with any of their shit.

  One of them, a scrawny guy in an ugly plaid shirt, tries to block my path. This is a mistake, and I pop my hand out like I’m about to shove him.

  He jumps out of the way immediately. Good.

  Autograph requests which I ignore.

  Questions, again which I ignore.

  More questions I ignore.

  It goes on and on, and Coach Parker is by my side walking me through it—not for emotional support, but to make sure I don’t beat the shit out of anyone. I’m glad for it, because if he weren’t here with his han
d steering me forward, I probably would have lost my shit on someone by now.

  We get to the car and the ride is bumpy, but surprisingly silent. Coach takes out a water bottle and offers it to me. When I don’t take it, he throws it at my lap. I catch it before it hits my junk, and I glare at him.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Coach asks.

  I wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t, so I guess it’s my turn.

  “I was thinking that I was doing something that was actually good for me, for once in my life.”

  “I get that.” He nods, and his voice goes softer. The words changed from would-be pissed to just … Coach. He’s supportive, like the father mine never was, even when my father was the one who forced me into boxing to go and meet this man. It’s ironic, in a way.

  “She’s that special?”

  “More than I can say.” My voice catches, and pretending I’m thirsty, I open the bottle he tossed me and drink from it. In the back of my mind I plan that, as soon as we get out of this limo, I’m searching for beer. Fuck this water. I need something stronger.

  “If it was meant to, it will all work out,” Coach says, and he claps my back again as if we’re back in the ring. Then it’s back to boxing talk. “So we’re going to get you into some training before the fight. You’ve gone soft.”

  “I could never go soft.” I scowl at him.

  “Sure,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

  In a few minutes we arrive back to my old gym. I exit the limo, and push past the front doors, and inhale the familiar scent of violence, pain, and sweat.

  And as soon as I’m in front of the bag with the gloves on my hands, I know I’m in my element.

  There are cheers and screams as I make my way to the ring, but they aren’t as loud as usual. I’m so charged up, it’s all I can do to wait for the bell before I hit my opponent.