Page 52 of No Mercy
My mother always told me to trust my gut, that it would never lead me wrong. And right now, it’s telling me not to trust him. Not when it comes to Mandy.
“I don’t know if I can,” I admit, my voice barely a whisper.
Axel exhales slowly, his gaze dropping to the ground. For a moment, he looks almost… conflicted. Like he’s fighting some internal battle I can’t see.
When he looks up again, his expression is softer, but there’s something guarded in his eyes. “I’m not trying to take this from you. I just… I care about you, Eva. And I care about the people you care about. If something’s wrong, I want to help make it right. No matter what.”
His words wrap around me like a warm blanket, but they don’t ease the doubt swirling in my mind.
“Why does it matter to you?” I ask, needing to hear his answer.
Something dark flashes in his eyes, but it’s gone in an instant, replaced by his usual confidence.
“Because it matters to you,” he says simply.
I swallow hard, torn between wanting to believe him and needing to protect Mandy. If I’m wrong, if somethingiswrong, I can’t risk her life—not for anyone.
Axel’s expression hardens as the silence stretches between us. “You don’t trust me,” he says roughly.
“It’s not about trust,” I whisper, my gaze dropping to the ground.
He stands abruptly, brushing dirt from his trousers. “Fine. If that’s what you want, I won’t push. But if anything happens, Eva, you’ll wish you let me help.”
The warning in his tone sends a chill through me. The sweet gentleman from earlier is gone, replaced by someone harder, colder.
I stand, stepping closer until our chests are nearly touching. Meeting his gaze head-on, I keep my voice steady. “Noted, Mr. Ashford.”
His eyes search mine, looking for something I won’t give him. When he finds nothing, I turn on my heel and walk toward theforest entrance. I can feel his eyes on me the entire way, the weight of his gaze lingering until the trees swallow me whole
I don’t pay attention to the setting sky as I trudge along the dirt track, heading for the main road. Passing Axel’s bike, the temptation to kick its bodywork flares, but instead, I settle for a few solid kicks to the tire, letting the hollow thuds satisfy my simmering anger. For good measure, I grab his backpack and hurl it somewhere into the trees.
Every step on the road burns my legs, the thought of walking all the way home weighing heavier with every stride. But no way in hell was I going to beg him for a ride. That arrogant shift in his demeanour after everything—it’s like he flipped a switch, going from gentle to someone I hardly recognized.
Sex. That’s all men care about. I won’t let him use me again.
Mandy’s voice echoes in my mind like a broken record:Go have fun, I’m fine.
I believed her. I let myself believe her because it was easier than facing the gnawing worry. Now she’s gone. Or worse—hurt. In danger. All because I wasn’t there when she needed me most.
Maybe she wanted me to see through her words, to hear the unspoken plea beneath her reassurance. Did she leave me clues I missed? My mind scrambles to recall every word of our last conversation, but it’s a tangled fog, slipping through my grasp no matter how hard I try.
Frustration builds in my chest, threatening to boil over. I swipe at my eyes with the sleeve of my hoodie, refusing to let the tears fall. Now isn’t the time for crying. “Get it together, Eva,” I mutter, my voice cracking under the weight of emotions fighting to break free.
By the time I see the driveway, my relief is almost tangible. My hair has escaped its bun, sticking to my face in sweaty strands, and my feet throb with every step, begging for reprieve.
I hesitate at the door, my hand hovering over the handle. A deep breath fills my lungs, steadying me before I push it open. For a brief, fragile moment, I brace for Mandy’s voice to greet me, for her laughter to break the silence and tell me it was all a sick joke.
Instead, the shattered vase on the floor greets me, jagged pieces scattered across the entryway like a cruel reminder of her absence.
I decide then and there to leave it. I’ll clean it up when I find her. Every day it stays untouched will serve as a reminder of my failure—until I bring her home.
I make my way to the laptop in the living room, booting up the encrypted software we’ve used countless times to track people. My fingers pause over the keys, trembling slightly. A single tear escapes down my cheek, and the memory of meeting Mandy for the first time crashes over me, vivid as though it happened yesterday.
** I glance at the crumpled scrap of paper in my hand, its edges worn from my grip. The scribbled address matches the apartment door in front of me, but my heart pounds like I’m staring down a firing squad.
Taking a shaky breath, I raise my fist to knock—but hesitate. What if this is a mistake? What if she’s not who she says she is? What if it’s not even a she?
“Stop overthinking, Eva,” I mutter under my breath, forcing the words through my anxiety. “You’ve spoken to her. You’ve seen her. It’s fine.”
