Chapter 25: Gwen - Hunter or Hunted

In the morning, I juggled Samson back into my bedroom to get Honey outside to do her business. He’d slept on the pullout with Simone and Junie. As he had last night, he hissed and snarled at Honey while I carried him back there. Once I shut the bedroom door though, he cozied up in my blankets and shut his eyes again.

Junie stirred as I skirted around the bed to start a pot of coffee. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and asked what I was doing. I told her I was gonna drink my coffee while Honey did her business outside. She asked if she could come. Since Simone still snored on the pullout, I saw no reason to argue.

So she stepped into her boots and put on her coat. Just when we started out the door, she said, “Gwen?”

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“Can I have some coffee too?” She grinned. “Mommy lets me sometimes. And it’s so cold out there.”

Doubting that, I chuckled. “How about some hot chocolate?”

Grinning still, she nodded quickly.

I microwaved some milk, stirred in a premixed packet, and we headed outside. I clipped Honey on the long lead and sat on the icy steps with Junie.

Propping her elbows on her knees, the way I did, she held her steaming mug before her face. “This is the life.”

I laughed, watching Honey flop onto her back and roll through the snow. “Can’t complain myself.”

“Mommy says one day, we’re gonna get a little house like this.” She blew onto her mug like that’d cool it enough for her to take a sip. “I’d like that. I want a yard.”

“When I was a kid, I lived in a lot of apartments too.” Cheeks burning in the cold wind, I took a gulp of coffee. “It was nice when me and my mom lived in a trailer once. Having a yard was nice.”

“Yeah,” Junie agreed. “But I think that’s gonna be a long time. Mommy used to say it’d be soon, but the other day, she said we’d be here a while longer.”

My chest tightened. I wasn’t sure if it was the icy air in my lungs or the realization that Junie could feel the tension gathering around her mom. “Well, when the time’s right.”

“I guess.” A tiny sip of her cocoa. “Do you think Mommy’s sad about Delilah?”

The whiplash of a child’s mind. “Sure. I think everyone’s a little sad.”

“Mommy seems really sad.” She frowned, eyes coming to mine. “Do you think that’s why? Because Delilah’s dead?”

Your mommy’s not sad. She’s terrified.

But I couldn’t say that. “Maybe. But how do you feel? Are you sad?”

“Sometimes, yeah.” She shrugged and took another sip of her cocoa, almost mimicking me. “I was real sad about Delilah, but now I’m sad for Mommy. I don’t know what’s wrong. I don’t know how to help her.”

Definitely not the cold wind, because those words felt like blades through my chest. I remembered being Junie’s age and feeling just the same.

I’m sad for Mommy. I don’t know what’s wrong. I don’t know how to help her.

That was my ethos. My mom putting her burdens on me, parentifying me, led me to Troy. It led me to killing David. I cared for my loved ones to my detriment, as Rhiannon pointed out, no matter what it cost me.

It was too late for me. It’s who I was now. There was no going back, and I didn’t want to. I wanted to be a Rhiannon. I wanted to help. That’s all that brought me peace anymore.

But it wasn’t too late for Junie.

“It’s sweet you care so much,” I said. “But you’re just a kid. It’s not your job to make your mom feel better.”

She shrugged, the same way I would’ve if someone had told me that at her age.

The same way I would’ve if someone had told me that now.

“How about we go do something fun until Mommy wakes up?” I gently bumped my shoulder into hers. “How’d you like to spend your last couple days of Christmas vacation?”

“I don’t know.” Giggling, she shrugged. “Mommy said we’d go swimming one day before school started back, but we haven’t yet. Maybe we could do that?”

The pool was in the gym, and my last few days of travel had me tighter than a drum. “That sounds like fun. We’ll leave your mommy a note and head down when we finish our drinks. How’s that sound?”

Grinning again, she nodded fast with excitement.

* * *

Junie and I stopped at her apartment for her swimsuit, then went to the gym. Honey lay lazily beside the pool while we swam. Junie showed me all her backflips, and her handstands, and some of her other “cool tricks.”

By then, I was ready to get out of the pool and see if Simone had woken yet, but a few moms came in with their kids. Junie knew them all but considered one little girl, Maggie, a best friend. Maggie’s mom, Alice, said she didn’t mind keeping an eye on Junie if I wanted to get out.

Supposed my pruned fingers gave me away.

Since Alice and Simone were friends, and I knew Simone wouldn’t mind, I thanked her and said I’d stay close. The gym overlooked the pool anyway, and I desperately needed to get some cardio in.

Axel was the only other person in the gym when I walked in. We nodded at one another in greeting. Honey lay on the floor beside the treadmill while I ran, a watchful eye on Junie—still showing off her tricks—through the windows to the pool.

I’d just finished a four-minute, high-speed sprint when Axel approached. If I hadn’t seen his reflection in the windows, I would’ve fallen off.

“Should really consider weight and resistance training.” He wiped some sweat from his brow with a damp towel. “Cardio’s good for your heart, but not heavy lifting.”

I hit the red X on the treadmill and stepped off, panting. “I’m a baker. Don’t really need to lift much heavy shit.”

He licked his teeth and arched a brow. After a guzzle from his bottle, he turned around and headed back for one of the machines.

Only then did the dots connect.

After I realized the anonymous texter had been Sebastian, Axel had fallen to the back of my mind. It wasn’t him. Axel hadn’t gotten rid of David’s body.

But he knew something, damn it. Everything he’d said at Thanksgiving proved it.

I caught up with him and grabbed the back of his cutoff.

He spun around, shrugging me off. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me.” Only silence filled the empty gym, but I still lowered my voice. “What’s with the cryptic comments?”

His expression stayed blank. Like he was ordering his lunch. “Just saying. If you wanna be strong, it’s gonna take more than a treadmill.”

“Who said I wanted to be strong?” I narrowed my eyes. “Why would I need to be?”

He narrowed his too. “I don’t know. Why would you, Gwen?”

Teeth gritted, a deep breath escaped my nostrils. “What do you know, Axel?”

A half smile, and another gulp from his bottle. “You still haven’t passed your self-defense test. Running only helps once you’re out from under your attacker. If you wanna take down a guy my size, you need to weight train.”

I huffed. “That’s it, huh? You just want me to be able to pass my self-defense test?”

“I want you to be able to take down a guy my size.” He shrugged. “Or, you know. Lift him. If you had to.”

“You saw me,” I whispered. “You know.”

Another arch of his brow, and another gulp from his water.

“Did anyone else?” My octave stayed so low, I wasn’t sure if he even heard me. “Does anyone else know, Axel? Because if they do⁠—”

“Why would I tell anyone?” He stayed just as quiet. “I saw what he did to Simone. I know what he did to Junie. I don’t give a shit that he’s dead. But I do care about your form. You were walking like a penguin for a week after.”

Blinking hard, I shook my head. “Did you see it happen? Did you⁠—”

“Alright, shit.” He groaned and rubbed a hand over his mouth. “I was doing my rounds. I saw that car in your driveway. I went up the steps to check on you, and I saw Simone through the window. Just when I was about to bust the door down, you came out. You were checking on her. That’s when I saw the blood on your shoes, and the porch, and you started shoving shit into a bag.”

A sliver of relief coasted through me. Relief and annoyance. “Would’ve been nice if you offered to help.”

“Hell no.” He snorted. “I didn’t know exactly what happened, but it was too much already. I figured it out after I ran his plates. And you handled it. You didn’t need my help.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have been walking like a penguin if I’d had some help getting him in th⁠—”

“Sh!” He shook his head, brows furrowed. “Don’t tell me shit. Plausible deniability.”

“If you wanted plausible deniability, why’d you show the day after?” I snapped. “And why’d you say all that at Thanksgiving? Just to torture me?”

“To torture you? Piss off.” His tone held just as much annoyance as mine. “Last I saw Simone, she was almost unrecognizable. I had to make sure she was okay. And you looked wiry all the time. Like you knew someone knew. That’s why I said what I did at Thanksgiving. So you’d know it was me, that I wasn’t gonna snitch, and you could relax.”

Hm.

That was fair. Almost kind.

But that didn’t explain why he’d just done it again.

“Okay, but why’d you just say all that?” I gestured to the treadmill I’d been on. “Was that to torture me?”

He rolled his eyes. “Why’d you go to Delilah’s hometown, Gwen?”

“For the funeral,” I said. “To say goodbye.”

Axel let out a half laugh and grabbed another towel to wipe down the machine he’d been using. “Sure.”

He knew I wanted to kill Evan? And he laughed about it?

“What do you mean ‘sure?’ Are you accusing me of something?”

“I’m just saying.” He straightened. “I know that if I took someone that young and helpless under my wing, and some son of a bitch killed her? I wouldn’t just show at the funeral and say my goodbyes. I’d want revenge.”

How was I so easy to read? In what world was that the logical jump? To me, to Sebastian, sure, that made sense.

But the average person wouldn’t end at this conclusion.

“Have you gotten it before?” I asked. “Revenge?”

His shoulders broadened with a deep breath. “Do you want to weight and resistance train? Or not?”

He had. He’d killed someone. Or at least taken part in a cover-up. His demeanor couldn’t stay so stoic, so casual, if he hadn’t.

“I have a degree in it, you know,” he said. “I can show you how to use the machines. Walk you through which muscles to focus on. It’d help you pass the course.”

What could I say to that? How could I so quickly skip over the obvious questions?

Then again, I wasn’t about to detail everything I’d done to David. I’d never rat Sebastian out for his part in it either.

Maybe some things didn’t need spoken aloud.

Trailing my tongue along my lips, I raised a shoulder. “Yeah. I’d like to learn.”

He gave a short nod and gestured for me to follow him. “Let’s start with the Smith machine. You can do a lot on here. If you’re gonna be lifting heavy shit, you need to focus on your glutes. Stronger thighs and ass protect your low back.”

“Not gonna complain about a bigger ass,” I said. “What do I do?”