Page 11 of Pretty Broken Wings
There’s a leg outstretched into our path, and I look up to see the one and only Axel Newman sans glasses.
For a second, my mouth drops open, and all I can do is stare. He looks just as handsome as before. Maybe more so in the low light with his sharp cheekbones and light eyes. What is he doing here?
Axel just flicks a bored gaze at the man who had been dragging me.
“Fuck off, John.”
The man sneers at Axel. “We were just going to the bathroom.”
“No, you were just leaving.” Axel waves his hand at him.
When John doesn’t do anything, Axel’s voice lowers, and the menacing depth of it makes me shiver. “Get out.”
“You mother…” John falters on his words, then turns on his heel and walks away.
I watch him start down the hall, then turn on his heel and stalk out of the club, but my vision is twisty, and for a second, he looks like he’s walking on the wall.
There’s movement, and I see Axel lean back in his seat, throwing me alook.
And that look ignites the quick fire of anger again. This motherfucker just got me fired, and he’s what, here kicking back like he didn’t just fuck up my life? The heat roars through my body, fueled by the alcohol.
“I didn’t ask for your help.”
Axel barely looks at me. Just turns his gaze back toward the stage. I see that he’s left his glasses on the table beside his hand, where his finger taps against the tabletop.
My life just fell apart, and all he can do is tap that damn finger on the table. I’m so hot I feel lightheaded.
“You know, stalking is illegal,” I spit.
There’s a pause. Then Axel says, “I know.”
“I could call the cops.” I hate the bored look he’s giving.
Of course, he doesn’t care. Why would he?
I see his glasses sitting there, and in an impulsive move, I snatch them up.
“Fuck you, Axel fucking Newman.” I know I shouldn’t, but the anger is fully in control now, and I can’t stop it. I throw theglasses on the ground and stomp on them, crushing them under my foot.
Axel looks at the ground, then up at me, squinting. Then, there are black spots in the shadows of his cheekbones. I blink, but they get bigger.
Is he… is something happening to him? Is he turning into Satan in front of my eyes? Or maybe I’m Satan, and I’m getting yanked back to hell. It would almost be fitting. Hell would feel safer, with all that fire to protect me. You wanna hurt me, you gotta get hurt too.
But instead of fire, everything feels fuzzy. I have to lean on a chair for support. At least, I think it’s a chair.
And then, things go black.
CHAPTER SIX
Right after the woman snatches my glasses, I hear the snap of plastic, then the crystal crunch of glass. For a moment, I’m frozen.
Did she just… break my glasses?
Then, I catch a vague movement. I think the woman is grabbing her face, then she crumples to the ground.
Christ! Reaching out, I try to break her fall, but all I can get is her clothes. She hits the ground with a puff of air.
Fucking drunk dancers, man.
