Page 61 of Once A Villain

“It’s fine. I healed.” He laughs, but it’s forced. “He told me what would happen if he caught me near you again. So, please, stay the hell away from me.”

“Jamie,” I plead, not knowing what to say.

Shaking his head, he walks away, leaving me shell-shocked.

I storm back to the bar, ready to confront Griffen, but he’s gone too.

I pour myself another drink and down it, the alcohol burning my throat. The anger and frustration are overwhelming. My vision blurs, and my body warms.

Nauseous, I rush to the bathroom, barely making it before vomiting. My body convulses, the alcohol forcing its way up my throat. My chest heaves, and the bile burns. After a few moments, the retching subsides. I lean against the wall, the tile cool against my flushed skin.

Footsteps approach, and I look up to see Griffen standing in the doorway, a small smile on his face. “Having fun?”

“Go to hell.”

“Come on, doll, let’s get you out of here.”

“Don’t call me that, and don’t touch me.” He ignores me, pulling me to my feet. Wrapping his arm around me, he steadies me and leads me out.

“Where did you park?” he asks, helping himself to my car keys.

“Outside, along the curb.”

He shouts across the room to Kyla, who drunkenly stumbles after us. I grit my teeth. Great, just what I need—Kyla coming home with Griffen.

He helps me into the passenger seat of my G-Wagon, and Kyla collapses in the back, already passed out. He climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the engine with a roar. He drives in silence and throws an occasional glance my way.

I meet his gaze with a death glare, and he only smiles.

“I take it you talked to Jamie.”

“Yes! Who the hell does Axe think he is?”

“You’re asking the wrong person, but yeah, he’s a possessive motherfucker.”

“Did he do that to your face?”

“Do you really want to know?” His eyes flicker to me, his expression unreadable.

“Yes,” I reply, barely more than a whisper, but he hears me.

“Yeah,” he says, his tone flat.

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t agree with what he did to you.” Griffen sighs.

“Why do you care what he does to me?”

His jaw tightens, his eyes drifting off like he’s looking at something only he can see. “Sometimes, Axe needs saving from himself,” he mutters, like he’s tasting the bitterness before spitting it out. “His father...that bastard wasn’t even human. He broke him—physically, mentally—until nothing was left but rage. Axe learned early-on that emotions were weaknesses, just ammunition for life to tear you apart.”

I cross my arms, but his words pull at me, unsettling.

“You think Axe’s bad? The devil who raised him was the kind of evil that makes hell look soft. Every scar on Axe’s body? Those aren’t from missions, Rory. Not many men can even get close enough to make The Reaper bleed. They’re from his father.Lessons, he called them.” He snorts, his lip curling in disgust. “Lessons in beating the humanity out of him. Turning him into something else.”

My chest tightens, a flicker ofsomethingrising in me, but I stay silent, letting him continue.

“That man made Axe fight for everything—scraps, his next breath. Like a rabid animal. His world was nothing but fists, blood, and survival. And I only know about the things I saw. There’s a lot more shit he’s never talked about—can’t talk about. His father wanted him violent and untouchable. And that’s exactly what he got. You don’t survive a hell like that unless you become the monster. And Axe? He’s damn good at being the monster.”

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