Page 62 of Born of Ice

And right after that proceeded to get way more than I gambled for, forgetting about the little device.

I went into last night wanting to learn more about her, to dig deeper into her life, find out what makes her tick. What was she like before all this happened, but I just ended up falling into her ice, right alongside her.

I was reluctant to leave Electra after all that transpired, after the scars she showed me and peeled away a few of my own scabs. But this couldn’t wait.

I didn’t get a wink of sleep last night because my blood was humming with thirst and I had to sate it. I had to feed the monster inside of me. And I did.

I should’ve used more finesse, but whatever, I got my point across or at least I served the prologue because I’m sure I’ll be back for more.

Just then my little angry elf rolls out of her room. “Why are your knuckles red?” Electra asks, eyeing my hands when she comes closer.

“Checking me out, Miss Monroe?” I lean in, whispering and she rolls her eyes, despite the little shiver I did not miss going through her body.

“You wish.” That I do.

“So, what’d you do while I was gone?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Hmm, careful, angry elf, or I’ll think you might care about me.” I send her a smirk to which I get another roll of those beautiful blues.

Fuck, I missed her.

“And there’s my delusional Exton.”

“All I heard was ‘my’ in that sentence.” Am I avoiding answering her questions by pissing her off? Possibly. But I don’t particularly want to discuss what I went to do this morning with her.

“Whatever.” She wheels away from me toward the kitchen. “You left your phone at home. It rang when you were gone,” Electra says casually while reaching for a water bottle but I stiffen.

“Oh, who was it?” I start toward the couch to find my phone, but she stops me.

“It’s in the room.” I lift my eyes from underneath my lashes.

“Why?”

“Because I picked it up.” My nostrils flare automatically, my already raw fists curling at my sides.

“You picked it up?” I ask her slowly, trying to gage what she knows. How many of my fuck ups were disclosed while I was gone.

“Mm-hmm, it kept ringing and ringing, and I just wanted to tell them to stop calling because you were gone.”

“You could’ve silenced the phone.”

“Sure. But you’re all up in my business so I got into yours as well.” Her casual tone continues as she shrugs but my jaw hardens. My heart starts racing, the hatred and rage screaming to be let out.

“It was your father’s lawyer.” The words slip past her lips and before she can continue and tell me how she wants nothing to do with me and my fucked up past, my first punches through the hallway wall.

The drywall crunching and falling through under the force of my blow, sending dust to the floor.

My eyes are wild, nostrils flared, chest heaving as I turn back to face her. “What did he tell you? How much of a fuck up I am? How I’m to blame for it all?”

“Shut up, Axe,” she interrupts me but never once raises her voice. “Shut up and don’t say anything you don’t want me to know. Because all he wanted was to get a message over to you to come pick up whatever it is he has for you. That’s all.” I’m still breathing heavily but the anger slowly dissipates. Every calm, simple word out of her mouth, breaks through my red haze.

Electra shakes her head and wheels toward the sink, snatching a towel and comes my way, wrapping it around the bleeding knuckles as she murmurs, “Lunatic.” But her touch is not angry. It’s gentle and caring and just like that every ounce of anger is dried up.

She’s not demanding answers I’m not ready to give. Even to myself.

She’s simply here, taking care of my wound and being the calm I need.

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