by Olivia Grey
Axel bound my hands above my head and lowered his body onto mine. My body willing carried the weight of him on top of me as my body experienced the painfully arousing sensation of him parting me. I relaxed, authorizing his unrestrained entrance. All of him, that’s what I wanted. It didn’t matter that the first few flashes hurt like hell. That form of pain was one I would take any day as long as it came from Axel.
I tugged a hand from his grasp, dropping it on his back and sinking my fingers in, deep. He was my outlet and the more I dug into him, the more he gave me everything he had. Pain left soon after, only to be replaced by pressure and tingling in my stomach, coupled with a lightness all over my body. All my nerve endings were standing up, waiting for Axel to feed them with the euphoria only he was capable of delivering.
His fingers wandered lower, circling my clit in quick motions. The pressure was unbearable, but in the most appetizing way. Picking up his pace, his fingers started to fidget, he pumped and pumped, deep and hard and I moaned, into his mouth, into his neck, my hands going everywhere, my head tilting back as far as it could manage. And with one final grunt and one final moan, it was over, leaving us in a pool of our own sweat; our own juices.
“You’re amazing, Frances Hilltower,” he said, flopping back on the bed, his head to the ceiling. “You’re too amazing to be real.”
“You’re amazing,” I copied.
“We’re amazing,” he smiled.
Axel propped up on his elbow, his face directly above mine. I closed my eyes, finding the intensity of his too much to bear and the weight of my orgasm too much to carry. Even behind my eyelids, I could see his face- not the one that haunted my dreams but the one that made my reality greater than I thought I deserved.
“I think,” he said, running his hand down my stomach, “that we were meant to be together. I know that some people think high school romances are overrated but sometimes, that’s where the right one is.”
“We’re not in high school anymore,” I laughed.
My back arched unintentionally as his fingers waved against my side.
“That’s exactly the point. We’re not in high school anymore, but here we are, still madly in love with each other. So many things happened, Frances and honestly, if you weren’t the right one, we wouldn’t have made it through any of this.”
“Many things would have made it difficult for us to have this moment,” I reminded him, avoiding the details.
“I don’t believe in miracles,” he whispered into my ear.
“That’s okay,” I laughed, “no one would ever consider me a miracle.”
“I’m taking about me waking up, silly,” he dug his finger into my side.
I wiggled around a bit, not wanting to be tickled but loving the way he was touching me before. He returned to that, long strokes down and up my body.
“The thing is,” he said, “if you weren’t the right one, you wouldn’t have come to the hospital. You would have listened to your parents, listened to your fears and I…well… I’d still be there waiting for you to wake me.”
“It could be a coincidence,” I offered.
“Except it wasn’t,” he replied. “While I was laying there, I just kept wishing I could open my eyes, just to catch a glimpse of your face. As soon as you got there Frances, I knew it. I knew that I wanted to live; that there was so much more to life than I’d already had and I wanted to have it all. I wanted to have that with you.”
I was choking up and I tried hard not to make him see it. But I felt as tears- from both my eyes- seeped through the corner of my eyes, down my cheeks. His lips caught one of them and a round of goosebumps coated my skin.
“Don’t cry Frances,” he pleaded but it was too late.
I needed to cry and not just a spate of sad tears. I needed to cry for the bad and the good; for the fact that he saved me from myself, brought me back to a place where things weren’t as gloomy as I thought they’d always be.
“I just love you,” I said, forcing my eyes open. “I thought I lost you and I thought it was my fault. Everyone hated me, Axel. You have no idea what it’s like when all I ever wanted was just to love you and I couldn’t. I punished myself so hard for what happened and I just… I hated life because you weren’t in it. And my parents. They didn’t understand. Of course they love me, you know, because I’m their child and all but they didn’t know. They didn’t want to know. So all the time they were there, talking about you, about how you were doing, I’d just sit with my ear against the door, hoping I’d hear enough and it was never enough. Seeing you that night, it still wasn’t enough.”
“I’m here, Frances. I’m here for as long as you want me to be.”
“And if we find out that Jemma wasn’t the one who hurt you, will you still…”
“Of course,” he said, joining my lips to his. “It’s so strange and I completely get it. No one in this world will understand why I can’t stay away from you. What they don’t realize is as much as I want to be around you, I need to be around you even more. If they’ve ever loved that strongly, they’d know what it’s like to avoid the one you love. And I can bet, the vast majority wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about what the world has to stay. They’d fight for true love.”
“Axel,” came a voice, followed by knuckles on his room door.
My eyes widened in disbelief, in horror.
“Shit,” he gasped, reaching for his underwear and tugging them around his waist.
“Axel,” came the voice again.
“In a minute mom. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“What should I do?” I asked, my voice low enough that she wouldn’t hear me.
Of all the people in the world to catch me in her home, it just had to be her. And while I’d always admired Axel’s mom- and still do- I knew she wasn’t to be messed with. A mother has one primary duty in this world, to protect her children.
“Um… Just stay here,” Axel said. “If she sees you, I’ll handle it. I’m not embarrassed about what we’re doing and I sure as hell am not going to have you hide in a closet.”
I wouldn’t have minded. Hiding in the closet would have been the smartest and wisest thing to do. Or maybe I could take to the window- escape that way. It wouldn’t be a hard fall. One broken bone, maybe two. But even that was better than hearing the insults Axel’s mom would dish as soon as she spotted me.
Following Axel’s lead, I tugged on my clothes and waited on the bed for the storm to pass or for fury to surge.
56
Axel
Like the back of my hand- that’s how well I knew my mother’s schedule. Being home for six months meant that I’d had time to memorize every move she made, every appointment she had and today should have been no different. Except it wasn’t. She was home, at least three hours before she was meant to arrive. And I… I was stuck in a bedroom with the one person she’d asked me over and over again to avoid. To make matters worse, I’d left her a note in attempts to avoid face to face confrontation. Now, I had no choice but to look her in the eye and explain what the note meant. How much I would have to tell her was definitely up to me but I knew it would be a fight to leave and I had no intentions of staying.
Frances was sitting on the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest. I could only imagine what she was thinking, how she was feeling. Protecting her was a necessity but there are different angles to protection. For starters, her heart needed the comfort of knowing I wouldn’t deny her- not to my mother, not to anyone. And then there’s the mental aspect of everything- having someone break her down the way I knew my mother would. I decided that the latter was the easiest to handle because that could be fixed, perhaps not immediately, but in due time.
“What brought you home so early?” I asked.
Mother was standing in front of my door, waiting with a hand on her hip.
“You were with her,” she said. “Imagine the horror Axel. Just picture it. I’m at work and I hear that you’re with a…”
“With Fran
ces, mom. Let’s stick to actual names rather than name calling. I was with Frances and I am with Frances,” I said matter-of-factly.
It didn’t take much for mom to catch on to what I was saying. Only a second later, he head was peeking inside my room and when her eyes landed on Frances her cheeks flushed the deepest red.
“I can’t believe it,” she wailed. “Get her out of here, Axel. Get that murderer out of here.”
“Calm down,” I said, “resting a hand on her shoulder.”
She shrugged me away, vehemently.
“Get her out,” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “Get her out before I do something stupid.”
My eyes wandered to Frances whose face was coated in fresh tears. Her head was dropped between her knees, her back trembling with stifled cries.
“Can we talk about this somewhere else? You’re hurting her feelings and I can’t allow you to do that mom.”
“Hurting her feelings,” she pressed her hand against my chest. “That… that… that girl hurt your heart Axel. She sent a bullet right through you. So no, I won’t stop. I won’t calm down. I. Will. Not. Allow. Her. To. Hurt. You. Again.”
“She’s not going to hurt me mother but if you insist that I can’t be with her, if you don’t accept her, then you’ll be hurting me. You’ll be hurting my heart because I love Frances. I love her mom. I do and no matter how many times you oppose it, no matter how many people are against it, I’m still going to love her.”
“Axel, don’t do this. Don’t stand here and pretend like you’re a raving fool. You know, as clear as day, what she did to you. And unless you’re planning a way to exact revenge, then I will never understand. Because the only thing you should love about her, is the way her body would look draped over a slab of metal and tucked inside a fridge at the morgue.”
It was too much. For me. For Frances. My mother said too much. I allowed Frances to leave. To run, without her shoes, through my house and to her car. I didn’t stop her, because in that moment, I thought I was wrong. Protecting her meant not subjecting her ears to the things my mother was saying. So, I didn’t choose the high road, I chose the dumb one.
“Don’t you dare go after her,” my mother warned.
“I won’t,” I shook my head. “I’ve got to talk to you first.”
Mom and I went downstairs where we sat across from each other at the dining table. She reached for a pen in front of her, clicking and clicking and clicking. A coping mechanism, she needed it.
“You need to stay away from her,” she said- words that were starting to sound like dead air.
“I’m not going to stay away from her mom because…”
“Because you love her,” she groaned.
“Because I love her and because she didn’t do it.”
Mother rolled her eyes, chewed on the side of her lower lip. “She did it, Axel. She did it. There are no ifs and buts about it. That girl sent a bullet soaring right through you.”
“What would you do if someone made a sex tape of you?”
“Axel!”
“No mom, I’m old enough. We’re both adults here, so let’s talk. What would you do if you trusted someone and they filmed you without your permission- without your knowledge.”
“I’d be upset, Axel, but I wouldn’t shoot the guy.”
“And what do you think about me? Apparently I filmed Frances. So, without bias, what do you think of a guy who does such a thing?”
“If you’re trying to get me to balance you and that girl on the same scale, it’s not going to happen. People make money from sex tapes, you know that. Reality stars flashing their parts around, they get paid to do that crap.”
“Not the point mom.”
“You made a mistake Axel but not one that warranted what that girl did.”
“Have you seen the tape? Did someone show you a recording?”
“Axel,” she slammed a fist down on the table.
“Did you see it?”
“Of course I didn’t see it. Why would I want to see something like that of…of… of my son?”
“If you didn’t see it, then how do you know it exists?”
“Because Jemma told me so.”
“That’s my point. You’re a Jemma cheerleader. You can’t even admit that the real reason you know and believe what you heard about the tape was because Frances talked about it in court.”
She nodded. “Fair enough, she mentioned it but, until I heard it from Jemma, I didn’t really believe. That girl could have been fetching for excuses, trying to give reason to what she did.”
“So you believe that the son you raised so well, would do something like that to a woman? After seeing what you went through with dad, you think that my hatred for women is so…”
“I never said anything like that.”
“I didn’t make the tape mom,” I said matter-of-factly.
She looked at me, waiting for an explanation. I could tell, by the look in her eyes, that she didn’t believe me.
“I didn’t make it,” I repeated. “Jemma made it.”
“Axel,” she huffed. “Just stop playing games. I don’t want you to go gallivanting around with that girl. That’s all. Nothing else. No mind games. I’m not into the mind games.”
“Mom,” I said more firmly, “I did not make the tape. Do you believe me?”
“No, Axel. I don’t believe you,” her voice was apologetic. “But it doesn’t make me love you any less and it doesn’t make me hate that girl any less either.”
“Want me to show you the difference,” I said, reaching into my pocket and placing the camera on the table.
“What’s that?” Mother gasped.
I flipped the video on, paused it at the section where a Jemma’s dress and a hint of her right leg could be seen. “The difference is, mother, that I can prove that I didn’t make the tape and Frances cant, at least not yet, prove that she didn’t shoot me.”
“How does this prove anything?”
“The fact that Jemma had the camera before the sex tape was made means that it’s probably Jemma’s camera. You see that, don’t you? It’s Jemma’s dress, Jemma’s legs and I know you probably don’t know what her legs look like, but take my word for it, they’re hers. Not Frances’. From the position, I’m guessing she’s testing out the camera, you know, making sure it works…”
“You’re right,” she concluded. “It does seem to be her, but where did you…”
I laughed, “that’s the other thing. The cops could find the camera. Those little dogs they had sniffling around couldn’t find the camera. But I found the camera.”
“In our house?”
“At Jemma’s house, in her room. She had it all along.”
Mother let out a long sigh. “Maybe you have a point, Axel but I’m you’re mother and you have to understand that I’m scared. I don’t want anything to happen to you and Frances…”
“You don’t trust her. But like I said, I’m on to something and I’m pretty certain that Jemma was the one who shot me.”
I gave my mom a kiss and left her to put her nerves in place. The journey to complete calm was long, but once we got there, I knew mother would be at peace. She taught me how to fight for what I wanted and if it hadn’t been for her strength I wouldn’t have made it this far. She taught me how to love and if it weren’t for her affection, I wouldn’t know how to use my heart. And so, I had her to thank for all the lessons I’d learned and soon, she’d be able to thank herself for raising me the way she did, regardless of the troubled I’d caused.
57
Frances
I understood that she hated me and I might have even known how much. I sat in the car, telling myself that they were just words and words can’t hurt. Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me. I hung on to that phrase, repeating it in my head, hoping that it would drown out the pain, help me to wise up, to toughen up. It didn’t. Axel’s mother meant a lot to him; as is only right. Coming between that kind of b
ond was never my goal and somehow, I felt like I’d done just that. He wouldn’t back down. Axel was a greater good kind of guy and he needed her to understand the things that even he didn’t understand. Sure, he might have his reasons for believing in me but instilling those reasons into someone who went through what his mom went through, it’s not possible. Not everyone sees it the way I do, but truthfully it’s the correct way of thinking. Though dying means you cease to exist, cease to live out years that may have been your happiest, it doesn’t begin to compare with the agony dying causes to those living.
He didn’t see what she went through, night after night, praying that he’d wake up. He had no idea how much her heart bled when she thought that every day would be his last. Parents aren’t supposed to outlive their children and the fact that Axel’s mom got a taste of what that could be like, I couldn’t blame her for hating me. I couldn’t blame anyone for hating me. I- if I really was the one who pulled the trigger-interrupted the cycle of life in the most unforgivable way. But if I wasn’t and I hoped with all my might that I wasn’t, then I could breathe more uninterrupted breaths; my heart would be at ease.
Axel came skipping out of his house, a forced smile on his face.
“I’m surprised you waited” he said, tossing a black duffle bag into my back seat.
I didn’t tell him that the only reason I’d waited was because I was shaking too much to grip the steering wheel.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Frances, we need to find out the truth. Mom will be fine, trust me.”
“But she’s not fine now, Axel. Maybe you should just wait a bit, get her to understand.”
“Oh, she understands,” he said, “his gaze venturing to the side where his mother stood. “I kinda had to tell her everything.”
“Does she believe you?”
“Let’s just say, Jemma’s a good actress. She put on enough of a show to convince my mother that she really cared but we’ll prove her wrong. I just know, deep in my gut, that she’s the one to blame for what happened.”
