Chapter 4 The Lie I Couldn’t Tell

EMILIA POV

I opened my mouth to do exactly that, but the lie wouldn't come. Instead, I found myself leaning into his touch, my body betraying every rational thought in my head.

"That's what I thought," Axel said with satisfaction.

And then he was kissing me.

years of careful control shattered in an instant. His mouth was hot and demanding, claiming mine with a desperation that matched my own. I kissed him back helplessly, my hands fisting in his leather jacket, all my good intentions crumbling to dust.

This was what I'd been running from. This consuming fire that burned away everything else, leaving only need and want and the terrible knowledge that no other man would ever affect me like this.

Axel's hands tangled in my hair, angling my head for deeper access. I could taste the cigarette on his tongue, feel the barely leashed violence in his touch. He was dangerous and wrong for me in every way that mattered.

And I wanted him with a desperation that scared me.

The sound of the back door opening broke us apart. We sprang away from each other like guilty teenagers as Marco stepped outside.

"Em?" Marco's voice was sharp with suspicion. "Is Everything okay out here?"

"Fine," I managed, my voice barely steady. "Just getting some air."

Marco's gaze moved between us, taking in my flushed face and swollen lips, Axel's defensive posture. Understanding dawned in his eyes, followed quickly by fury.

"Inside. Now," Marco ordered. "Both of you."

I started toward the door, but Axel caught my wrist. The contact sent electricity shooting up my arm.

"This isn't over," he said quietly, for my ears only.

"It never started," I whispered back.

But we both knew that was a lie.

As I walked back into the clubhouse, I could feel the weight of several gazes. Jax was watching me with concern, Carmen with knowing sympathy, and several other club members with various degrees of interest and speculation.

I'd been back in Desert Ridge for exactly three hours, and my carefully constructed new life was already falling apart.

My phone buzzed. A text from David: Can we please talk? I made a mistake.

I stared at the message, then deleted it without responding. David felt like a lifetime ago, a different person's problem.

Another buzz. Sofia: How's it going? Surviving the reunion?

I typed back: It's complicated.

Sofia: Complicated how? 

Me: We kissed.

My phone immediately rang.

"Holy shit," Sofia said without preamble. "Tell me everything."

"I can't talk right now," I whispered, glancing around the clubhouse.

"Em, are you okay? You sound rattled."

"I am rattled." I walked toward the bathroom for privacy. "He kissed me, Sofia. Against the wall behind the clubhouse like we were teenagers again."

"And?" Sofia prompted.

"And nothing's changed," I admitted. "Six years, and he still affects me the same way."

"That's not necessarily a bad thing." She coos.

"It's a terrible thing," I corrected. "I came here to bury my father and go back to my life. I can't get sucked back into this world."

"Maybe your life isn't in the city," Sofia suggested gently. "Maybe it never was."

"I have to go," I said as Carmen approached the bathroom door.

"Em, wait"

I hung up and splashed cold water on my face, trying to compose myself. In the mirror, I looked exactly like a woman who'd been thoroughly kissed by a dangerous man.

When I emerged from the bathroom, Marco was waiting.

"We need to talk," he said grimly.

He led me to a private room off the main bar, closing the door behind us. The space was clearly his office now Dad's old desk, but with Marco's personal touches.

"Sit," Marco commanded.

I perched on the edge of a chair, feeling like a teenager about to be lectured.

"What happened between you and Axel out there?" Marco asked directly.

"Nothing," I lied.

Marco's eyes flashed. "Don't lie to me, Em. I saw your face when you came back inside."

I crossed my arms defensively. "Nothing happened."

"Bullshit." Marco leaned against his desk. "I know you, and I know him. The question is, how long has this been going on?"

"It's not going on," I protested. "It was just"

"Just what? A moment of weakness?" Marco's voice was getting colder. "Because I distinctly remember having this conversation with Axel six years ago."

My stomach dropped. "What conversation?"

"The one where I told him to stay the hell away from my baby sister," Marco said bluntly. "The one where he promised me it would never happen again."

"That's why he left?" The words came out as a whisper.

Marco's face softened slightly. "You didn't know."

I shook my head, pieces of the puzzle finally clicking into place. "Dad said he threatened to have Axel killed if he ever touched me again."

"Dad was pissed, but it wasn't his threat that mattered," Marco said quietly. "It was mine."

"What did you say to him?" I demanded.

Marco ran a hand through his hair. "That if he ever hurt you, I'd kill him myself. And that getting involved with him would destroy you."

"That wasn't your decision to make," I said, anger building in my chest.

"You were sixteen," Marco said firmly. "He was twenty, two and already knee, deep in club business. What kind of brother would I have been if I'd let that happen?"

"The kind who trusted me to make my own choices," I shot back.

"You were a kid, Em. You had no idea what you were getting into."

I stood up, pacing to the window. "I'm not sixteen anymore, Marco."

"No, but you're still my sister. And Axel is still dangerous as hell."

I turned to face him. "He's your friend. Your brother. If he's so dangerous, why is he here?"

"Because I trust him with my life," Marco said simply. "But that doesn't mean I trust him with your heart."

"My heart is my business," I said firmly.

Marco pushed off from the desk. "Not when it comes to family. Em, you don't understand what Axel's been doing these past six years."

"Then tell me," I challenged.

Marco hesitated, then sighed. "He's been working as an enforcer for hire. Traveling from club to club, taking the jobs nobody else wanted, especially the violent ones."

My blood chilled. "What kind of jobs?"

"The kind that would scar you if you found out," Marco said quietly. "Inside and out. He's not the same man you remember."

"Neither am I," I pointed out.

"Aren't you?" Marco asked. "Because from where I'm standing, you look exactly like the sixteen, year, old girl who used to sneak out to meet him behind the garage."

Before I could respond, a commotion erupted from the main room. Shouting, the sound of chairs scraping, someone yelling for Marco.

We rushed out of the office to find the clubhouse in chaos. Members were grabbing weapons, and through the front windows, I could see motorcycles pulling into the parking lot.

"Reapers," someone shouted.

Marco was instantly in President mode. "Lock it down. Nobody in or out without my say, so."

I pressed myself against the wall as club members moved. Weapons appeared from hidden compartments, and the atmosphere shifted from relaxed to lethal in seconds.

"Em, get to the back room," Marco ordered.

"No." I stood my ground. "I'm not hiding."

"You're not armed, and you're not wearing colors," Marco said sharply. "You're a liability."

"I'm Vincent Romano's daughter," I said with more confidence than I felt.