Page 62 of Once A Villain

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Do you feel better?”

“No,” I snap, staring out the window. “Everyone goes through shit, but not all of us turn into complete psychopaths. You’re a Sovereign and a Hawthorne. And you manage to not be a total asshole…sometimes.”

“High praise, doll.” He chuckles humorlessly. “But it wasn’t just the abuse, Rory. That was the foundation, sure, but the real breaking point? His brother’s death.”

“His brother?”

“Lucas. Axe watched him die. Right in front of him. And he blames himself for it. It destroyed whatever was left of him. After that, he didn’t just shut down—heburiedeverything human. Every feeling, every memory. He clings to the pain and anger because it’s easier than feeling the loss.”

I stare at him, throat tightening. “I didn’t know.”

“Of course, you didn’t.” Griffen’s voice softens, his gaze clouded with old grief. “The memories, the few good ones he has...they hurt too much. So, he keeps the pain close, lets it fuel him. The anger, the rage, the violence, they’re the only things keeping him together. Doesn’t excuse what he does, but it sure as hell explains it.”

Silence stretches between us, thick and heavy. Griffen turns off the engine, eyes fixed on the house. His jaw works like he’s wrestling with something, and then, finally, he sighs.

“There’s more to his story, Rory, but that’s for him to tell. If he ever does.”

My heart clenches. I’m almost feeling sympathy for Axe,almost. Despite his vile actions, he’s still human. I know the suffocating grief of losing someone you love, how it scars you so deeply that it feels like it’ll never heal. The grief, guilt, anger—the emptiness and loneliness that swallow you whole. The constant reminders, the haunting memories and nightmares. It’s a pain that consumes you, that changes you forever.

I’m still buzzing from the alcohol, and who knows if I’ll even remember half of this conversation by morning. But something in Griffen’s words, in the quiet pain behind his eyes, stirs something in me I don’t want to admit.

“Why did you tell me all that?”

He shrugs, trying to play it off. “Maybe I miss having a slutty roommate to argue with.”

I glare at him, but he just chuckles, the cocky jerk.

“Or maybe,” he adds, leaning in slightly, “I wanted you to know there’s more to him than what you see. And maybe…I wanted to show you that I’m not the asshole you think I am. Maybe I actually give a fuck.”

“I still think you’re an asshole,” I mutter, wiping at the sting of tears threatening to spill. “And I don’t forgive you.”

“You can keep telling yourself that,” he says with a playful wink. “But deep down, I know you like me.”

I suppress a reluctant smile.

Griffen helps Kyla out of the backseat. Her laughter spills into the night as she clings to him, her arms draped around him, trailing her mouth down his neck. I follow them inside, closing the door behind me and heading upstairs, ignoring the moans coming from the living room.

Griffen’s words about Axe’s past echo in my head, mixing with Jamie’s anger and my own swirling emotions. Everything feels too much.

I let out a long breath, trying to push it all aside, but one question sticks.

Who the hell is Axel Hawthorne...really?

Iwake up to sunlight streaming through the windows, my head pounding and my stomach churning. Sitting up, I feel the nausea intensify. I hurriedly jump out of bed and sprint to the bathroom, just in time before the alcohol makes a reappearance. My body convulses as bile flows, my stomach clenched. This is going to be a long day.

The shower steam clears my sinuses and eases the ache in my muscles under the hot water. I feel slightly better as I descend the stairs, but the smell of breakfast wafts up to meet me, triggering a fresh wave of queasiness.

Kyla and Griffen are already seated at the kitchen table, while Rosa, busy at the stove, has set an extra plate for me.

“Rory, come eat,” Rosa calls, her cheerful tone at odds with my mood.

I sit, and she places a plate loaded with bacon, eggs, toast, and hashbrowns before me. She’s also eager for me to try the oat milk.

“So you’re the reason all that shit’s in the fridge,” Griffen teases, eyeing the oat milk with disdain. “I feel my testosterone levels dropping just looking at it.”

“Good,” I retort, pouring some oat milk into my coffee. Kyla’s laughter fills the room, her black hair a wild mess as she lounges in one of Griffen’s t-shirts. Looks like they had a fun night.

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