Page 67 of No Mistakes
Every choice I made, every deal, every body I buried.
It all leads back to this place.
My hands grasp the steering wheel tighter as I prepare myself, the leather groaning under my touch.
I see Eva’s head turn towards me from the corner of my eye, her mouth opening slightly as if she wants to say something. But that moment is quickly erased when Mandy knocks on her window, opening Eva’s door.
“Your rescue party has arrived, m’lady,” Mandy sings, one hand holding the door, the other outstretched towards the house.
Eva rolls her eyes, but gives Mandy a faint smile while she climbs out. The second she shuts the door, the quiet returns. I look out the windshield, spotting my brothers huddled together, staring at the entrance. I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn’t even hear Flynn exit the car.
I stay behind the wheel, staring at the house. I don’t know what I expected. Maybe the illusion that time would have dulled the sharp edges of memory. That the cracks in the walls would have sealed themselves. That the ghosts might have moved on.
I step out slowly, my boots hitting the driveway like I’m walking into enemy territory. The wind slices through the trees, scattering dry leaves across the stone like whispers. The gate behind us closing with a soft groan, locking us in.
Gunnar tosses a bag over his shoulder, whistling low his head tilts back, looking up at the house. “Still standing, huh?”
“Barely,” Carter mutters, scanning the area like he’s cataloguing every difference from when we left.
Ant doesn’t say anything, not even a snarky remark on his phone, and I can’t help but fear that I’ve made everything worse for him.
This place isn’t just a house. It’s a scar that never healed. Not just for me, but for all of us.
The air is heavier, thicker. Like the walls remember everything we tried to forget.
We make our way towards the entrance. The grand doors creak when I push them open, the scent of dust and old wood wrapping around me like a chokehold as I step inside.
I look in front of me, staring towards the hallway that leads to the kitchen, a memory burning into my brain as my father’s voice echoes in my head, sharp and angry.
“Stop shielding them, Axel. They’re not children.”
I push Carter behind me, making sure to keep him out of harm’s way. My fists are clenched, blood dripping from my knuckles as I stare at our father.
“You want someone to take the heat? Take me. Leave them the fuck alone.”
I shake my head, forcing the memory away, just as Eva brushes past me, her arm catching mine slightly. I catch the faint smell of her perfume, something soft and citrus, something that doesn’t belong in a house like this.
“Kitchen is which way?” She asks, her fingers pointing in every direction possible, as if she’s waiting for me to say stop.
“Down this hall, on the left,” I say, pointing down the one I was staring at intensely. “Last time I was in it, I shattered a plate against the wall.”
She pauses but doesn’t comment. Just turns and heads down the hallway. Mandy follows, already pulling off her jacket and talking about exploring the upstairs.
I walk through the foyer, boots echoing across the cracked marble floor. The furniture is still draped in white sheets, like corpses waiting to be revealed. I grip the bannister as I climb the spiral staircase, every step a weight pressing on my chest.
Upstairs, the doors are all closed. I open the one to my old room and stop dead.
Nothing’s changed.
The desk I used to sit at, mapping out deals and routes while pretending to study for school. The bed where I collapsed more times than I can count, still dressed in blood-soaked clothes, and the closet that hid more than just clothes. All of it remains the same. All untouched as if it’s frozen in time.
I swallow hard, taking a step inside, running my fingers over my desk.
“Axel?”
I turn at the sound of her voice.
Eva stands in the doorway, her fingers curled around the frame. She looks around the room, her eyes lingering on each object for a second, as if she’s making a mental note of everything I own.
