Chapter Twenty-Two
Axel's Point-of-View
The alarm on my bedroom door screams and wakes me up violently. I scramble to click on my bedside lamp. Light floods the room and after the second it takes for my eyes to adjust, I let out a relieved sigh; it's just Iris. I press a button to turn off the alarm.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up. I'm sorry," she stammers out, looking at the floor. I smile.
"It's alright. You okay?" I ask, noticing it's 2:30 in the morning. She looks up at me and shakes her head. I see the unshed tears in her eyes. "Hey, what's wrong? Come here," I tell her, opening my arms. She doesn't hesitate in crossing the room and climbing into my lap. She wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck, and she burrows her face into my shoulder. She's shaking and I feel her tears on my skin. I don't know what to do, so I simply rub my hand up and down her back. I don't know how long we stay that way, but she eventually manages to quiet her sobs. Her muscles relax, and she goes more or less limp against me. Finally, she pulls back and wipes her eyes against the back of her hand and sniffles. I give her a weak smile and push some hair back from her face.
"I-I'm sorry. I had a b-bad d-dream," she hiccups quietly.
"What about?" I ask just as quietly.
"The night I got k-k-kidnapped." I bite down on my bottom lip.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask a bit awkwardly. She stays quiet for a minute before nodding resolutely.
"Yeah, I do," she says evenly. She unlatches herself from me, pushes me back against the headboard, and settles herself between my legs. She leans back against me, and I wrap my arms around her middle, resting my chin on top of her head. She launches into her tale, telling me about her brother forcing her into his closet, getting dragged back through her house, seeing her parents in the living room and the slaughtered guards in the yard, and having her nose broken against the car window before blacking out.
"Then what?" I ask. Her story is making me sick to my stomach, but I know she needs to open up about all of this.
"I woke up in a dark room. It was cold and dank and I was on the stone floor. There were other boys and girls in the room, all huddled along the walls. The man who brought me there was sitting in a chair in front of me. When he saw that I was awake, he grinned this sickening grin, got up, and pulled me to my feet by my hair. That became his favorite way of torturing me since it always made me cry. He told me that I was going to be sold into the newly formed slave market. He told me that if I was submissive and good, he wouldn't hurt me. I told him to drop dead. He beat me and knocked me out. This continued every time I woke up. It continued for days. I remember spitting blood onto his shoes until they were ruined. He broke my wrist for that. You know the rest of what happened from there," she finishes.
"Did you ever find out if your mother was…" I trail off. She shakes her head.
"No one ever told me anything. I'm not stupid, though. They killed her. They probably killed Lars and Me-Me, too," she says sadly. I frown and am extremely glad she can't see me right now. I've known the story since the press released it. I probably know more of the story than she does, quite frankly. I play with our entwined fingers to distract myself.
"I'm sorry about everything that happened to you," I mumble, and this isn't a lie.
"It's not your fault," she mumbles back. I hear the sounds of sleep in her voice.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Mhm," she hums her assent.
"Are you…Are you happy here?" I ask. For some reason, I feel as though her answer will justify my reasons for not telling her the truth.
"Yeah," she says after a moment and I let out a mental sigh of relief. "I am. Happiest I've been since that night. I suppose that's all I can ask for," she finishes with a yawn.
"Let's get you to sleep," I say, shifting behind her. She moves forward and turns around to face me.
"Can I stay in here tonight? I don't think I'll be able to fall back asleep if I'm alone," she mumbles. I chuckle.
"I figured that's why you came in here in the first place," I answer. She smiles slightly before crawling to the other side of the bed and cuddling under the covers. I lay down, wrap an arm around her waist and pull her against me, spooning her. I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of her hair. "You know," I whisper. "If you want, you can stay in here every night." She wiggles slightly, getting more comfortable against me.
"I'd like that," she replies. I smile against her hair. I close my eyes and am just on the brink of falling asleep when I feel her fingers running up and down the length of my arm, and her whispering voice reaches me from somewhere far off: "I think I might love you."
I fall asleep before figuring out if I imagined it or not.