006: The devil

~~PEYTON~~

I clear my throat as I press the phone against my ear. Odin picks up at the first ring.

"What is it?" His voice is clipped, impatient, as if I’m interrupting something far more important than his wife's call. My stomach churns. This is going to be impossible.

I snivel as if I’ve been crying for a long time.

"Odin, come home, please. I… I…"

"What the fuck happened?" he interrupts, his voice sharper.

Now that I have his attention, I start sobbing. God, I’m not good at this, but I have no choice. Raphael's gaze is burning into me.

"The house is on fire!" I say, my voice cracking as I cry like a dramatic actress who just found out her understudy got the lead role.

"Peyton, what the fuck did you do?" he hollers, and I squirm at the tone. "It's barely an hour since I left, and you've turned the whole place into chaos. I told you to stop cooking, didn't I?"

"Come quickly, you idiot! The fire is spreading!" I cut him off, already exhausted from all the yelling and poor acting.

The line goes dead, and I sigh heavily while meeting Raphael's gaze. "Happy now?"

He nods, and that’s when I realize we are only a few inches apart, my head just short of touching his chest.

I move back subtly, but he notices immediately. His eyes, sharp and assessing, follow my retreat.

"Why are you stepping back?"

"'Cause I smell like whiskey." I retort, and he closes the tiny distance between us and sniffs me.

I freeze. Did he just…

He frowns, and I’m surprised by how seriously he's taking this.

"You smell fine," he says and sniffs me again. "A little like vanilla, with a hint of something musky… and definitely not too much whiskey."

God, what is he? A human bloodhound? And why is he sniffing me like a fine wine, completely ignoring the massive elephant in the room about his brother?

I shift back and force a tiny smile, wanting to escape his suffocating presence. I hate how he makes me feel. Just a moment ago he was threatening to burn down my kitchen, and now he's complimenting me. He’s so unpredictable—even more annoying than Axel.

I clear my throat. "I'm going to take a shower; make yourself comfortable."

He doesn't respond as I dash into my room, slamming the door and sliding down the wall.

God, today’s one hell of a rollercoaster, and I just want it to end. I want these maniac twins to disappear so I can be left with Odin—at least he's manageable and predictable, even with his damn blondes.

*******

After my long, purposely drawn-out shower, I feel like a slightly less sticky version of myself, but the world is still spinning.

I hear the sound of Odin's car as it squeals into the garage. I can tell from the tires screeching that he rushed down here, buying my lame excuse for acting.

There's an angry thud from the door, followed by "Peyton, where the hell are—"

He pauses, and I can guess what makes him stop.

I slip out of my room, perched in a corner, eavesdropping. Hell no, I'm not interfering; I've got a lot on my plate.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Odin spits. Raphael follows.

"I need my money."

"I don't have it."

There's silence for a beat, and before I know it, I hear staggering—a brutal sound of a punch. The ground tumbles beneath my feet. Now it gets really serious.

I rush over and find Odin sprawled on the floor, blood already blooming at the corner of his lip, while Raphael stands over him, knuckles clenched, his eyes burning with a cold fury I haven't seen before.

This isn't just about money; this is personal.

He's about to deliver another blow when I wrap my hands around his waist, pulling him back. Can you imagine a small part of me scolding myself for stepping in too early? I should have let Odin receive two more punches—three even—before I stopped Raphael. Silly me.

"Let him go, Raphael," I plead.

His body stiffens, and I feel a slight tremor ripple through him, a barely contained raw power that makes the hairs on my arms stand on end.

But he doesn't move. He just stands as Odin picks himself up from the ground, wiping the blood from his lips.

"Stop pretending to care, Peyton," he spits, and I peek from behind Raphael's back.

"Excuse me?"

"You fooled me… You deceived me into rushing home for nothing, didn't you, Peyton? There's no fire! I thought… I actually thought you needed me. For once."

"Wait a minute, so you're more concerned with my lame fire acting than the fifty million you owe him?" I say, incredulous. "Oh, forgive me! Like I'm the first person with a betrayal record in this damn house. I just fucking made a mistake in saving your ass."

I turn to Raphael, my shoulders slumping. "Go ahead. Continue from where you stopped. I don't give a damn anymore. You two handle your own mess; I'm out."

I storm off and don’t look back. He's talking about betrayal? Oh, really? I betrayed him? Well, he hasn't seen the worst I can do. In fact, I no longer feel bad about hooking up with his brother. I should betray him more often so he knows how it hurts.

I don't hear punching, but I hear shouting. Odin's on the defensive while Raphael stays quiet and lets him run his mouth. The thought of leaving them to their chaos is strangely freeing. Let them deal with their own inferno. I've had enough of my own to navigate.

As I reach my room, my phone rings, and I don't bother checking the caller—too angry to care.

"Yes?" I start, but there's silence from the other end.

"Hello?"

"Peyton, isn't it?"

I freeze; my knees suddenly feel weak.

That voice.

The devil has finally caught up with me.

The smooth, mischievous voice, the one I'd spent the past few hours trying to erase from my memory.

"Axel, is it?" I fire back.

He laughs. "Someone's done her research. I don't remember you recalling my name."

"What do you want?" I snap, wanting this conversation to end ASAP.

"Nothing much. I just wanted to let you know that I have your panties."

"Keep them. And don't you dare come over." I slam the phone down, my hand trembling. The nerve of that man! First, he plays with me, then he dares to call me and make that kind of statement. My cheeks flush.

I pace my room, the adrenaline from the fight still coursing through me, now mixed with a fresh wave of fury directed squarely at Axel.

How can he be so brazen? And how did he even get my number?

A sudden knock on my door makes me jump. "Peyton! Open the door!" Odin's voice is muffled, but I can hear the lingering anger.

"Go away!" I shout back, not bothering to hide the tremor in my voice.

"We need to talk about this, Peyton!" he insists, his voice closer now, as if he's pressing his ear to the wood.

"What the hell were you thinking, lying about a fire?"

I press my back against the door, my eyes squeezed shut. "It's none of your business!" I yell, though even to my own ears, it sounds weak and unconvincing.

The sound of his fist hitting the door makes me flinch. "Yes, it is! Everything in this house is my business! Now open this damn door!"

I'm about to retort when I hear my phone ping.

A text message from an unknown number.

*I don't have to come over; you're the one who'll come to me.*