Page 97 of The Stipulation
“Axel?” she says suddenly. I look over at her. “How did you know where I was?” Her eyes are sharp and curious all at once.
I grin a little, despite myself. “Betty suspected something was off. Sheldon had called the house completely drunk last night, and something he said or his tone gave her a bad feeling and made her suspicious. She wanted to warn you, but your cab was already there, and she felt silly in case she was wrong, so she planted a little tracking device on you.”
She gapes at me. “Betty?” Her voice goes strangely high-pitched for a second. “Betty put a tracker on me?”
“Yes,” I say, trying to keep my tone light.
She huffs and leans back, crossing her arms. “I can’t believe it.”
“She’s brave,” I say. “And clever.” I glance at her. “She saved you.”
Jo doesn’t reply. She has gone back to staring out of the window, and the rest of the journey passes by in silence. Finally, the house comes into view, and the cab slows down as it reaches the front door. Jo barely waits for the car to come to a stop before she flings the door open and bolts out before I can even react.
“Jo, wait!” I shout, throwing my hand toward her. But she’s fast, a blur against the concrete.
I yank out my wallet and throw a wad of cash at the driver.
“Keep the change!” I shout over my shoulder as I scramble out of the cab.
The driver yelps when he sees how much money I have thrown at him. “Thank you, sir,” he calls after me.
I barely hear him as I sprint after Jo, my heart pounding, the adrenaline thrumming through my veins once more. My shoes slap against the pavement. Jo had a lead, but I am faster than her, and I know I am catching up quickly. I have to stop her before she reaches Betty. I get why she’s pissed off that Betty crossed the line and put a tracker on her, but I have to make her see that Betty saved her life today. She doesn’t need a scolding; she needs a raise.
I burst through the kitchen door and stop short. I had it all wrong. Jo isn’t yelling. She’s wrapped her arms tightly around Betty. So tight I fear the woman’s ribs might crack. But if it’s painful, Betty doesn’t show it. She just hugs her back and lets Jo keep holding her as if she’s never going to let go. Jo’s shouldersshake with sobs, and her thanks are muffled against Betty’s shoulder. Betty looks emotional herself.
“Jo …” I start, but she doesn’t hear me.
She’s completely absorbed in the moment, letting her gratitude spill out. I glance at Betty. She’s frozen, a mixture of relief and true love on her face. I can’t help but smile, then step back quietly, letting the two of them have their moment. I need a shower anyway. There is no way to clean up what I’ve seen today, but I can wash away the grime and dirt of the day, the warehouse, the fear.
They don’t even notice me slipping away. And honestly, I don’t want them to.
Finally, for the first time in hours, I exhale fully. We’re home. She’s safe. And for now, that’s all that matters.
Chapter
Forty-One
JO
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d8_fLu2yrP4
-the first time I ever I saw your face-
The shower is heaven. I relish the feeling of the hot water pounding down my back, washing away the grime and terror of the last few hours. The steam curls around me like a protective cocoon. My muscles finally begin to unclench, and I let myself take the time to breathe deeply, to let the relief seep in.
I linger longer than I probably should, treasuring the mundane luxury of soap and heat, knowing first hand now how quickly everything can change and those little luxuries can be taken away. By the time I finally step out of the shower, I feel lighter. Like I am starting to be rebuilt, somehow, in small, careful increments.
I wrap myself in a towel and go to the drawer where I keep the softest, most comfortable shorts and tank tops that I own.The ones I wear as pajamas. I choose my favorite set, made from cotton. I pull them on, and the cool, buttery soft material feels like a familiar and dear hug.
I comb my wet hair before I tug it up into a messy bun. For a moment, I just stare at myself in the mirror. The cut on my temple is just a thin line, but I can still feel the ghost of it under my fingers. I trace it lightly, thinking not of Sheldon, but of Axel, and how close we came to losing everything.
And then I remember he’s here in the house. Somehow, after everything, the thought of finding him makes my heart speed up again, not from fear this time, but from anticipation.
I leave my room in my pajamas, and I wander down the hallway quietly, my bare feet soft on the floorboards, listening for him. I hear the faint hum of a TV from what I assume must be his suite. The door is slightly ajar, and I lean around it, peeking in. I find Axel lying on his back on the bed. He is wearing grey sweats and nothing else. The remote control for the TV is in one hand, and the other one is resting on the mattress beside him. He looks up, sees me, and smiles. That smile, oh God, that smile. It makes my chest tighten in a way that’s completely different from the fear of yesterday.
“Hey,” he says softly, patting the space beside him on the bed.
I smile back, my heart fluttering, and I cross the room and lie down in the space beside him. The warmth of him, the scent of his freshly showered skin, the steady rhythm of his breathing. It all feels like safety. Like home. I can’t believe I thought I could seriously leave these precious feelings behind. I settle beside him, leaning against his shoulder, letting my body melt into the weight of him. I feel the last of the tension of the day leave me as Axel strokes my hair.
