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My back straightens as my gaze flicks to the door, seeing the keypad he’s referring to. “Shit. Is it technically breaking and entering if you used the code? Like, this isn’t a felony, right?”
The driver glances back at me and shrugs his shoulders. “To be quite honest, Miss Stone, I haven’t got a clue. I’m sure this could be classified as trespassing, but I’ve always been an opportunistic kind of man, and when something stares you right in the face, why not grab it with both hands? If, and that’s a big if, there is any fall out, we’ll deal with it later. For now, why don’t you go see the home your brother created for himself.”
A stupid smile pulls at my lips, and I’m out the door before I even have a moment to really think about all the reasons why this is a terrible idea. As I reach the grand stairs that lead up to the front door, I glance back at the driver, who gives me an encouraging nod.
Making my way up to the top, I settle in front of the keypad and stare at it as a bundle of nervousness pulses in my stomach. “Ahhh, shit,” I mutter to myself, reaching toward the keypad. My thumb hovers over the numbers, not wanting to get it wrong and set off some kind of silent alarm.
Okay, so common sense would suggest that the front gate code isn’t going to be the same as the front door code, so considering Axel’s birthday didn’t work on the front gate, I start there, only for the keypad to flash red twice.
“Crap.”
My birthday is unlikely. If this were my home, I’d probably make it Ezra’s birthday, but I doubt Axel would have made the same call. Hmmmm . . . Mom.
A smile pulls at my lips as a wave of confidence crashes over me, and without hesitation, I start entering the code—0622. It flashes green, and I hear the soft click of the front door as it unlocks.
I gape at it as my heart races. Holy shit. I had not expected this to become my day, but fuck it. Nothing’s stopping me from going in now.
Pushing the door open, I slip inside what was once Axel’s home, and the most brilliant warmth settles inside of me. The foyer is huge, but the unmistakable scent of musky dust is thick in the air and has my brows furrowing. Maybe someone hasn’t been living here. It smells like a home that’s been locked up for years, with no sign of life. I make my way deeper through the halls, and as I pass what can only be the home office, I take in the floor-to-ceiling print of Demon’s Curse live on stage against the back wall. Ezra and Axel grin at each other like fucking idiots as every last person in the crowd has their hands in the air. The rest of the office is basically a shrine to the band, and the untouched papers scattered across the desk suggest that the very last person to be here was Axel.
Holy shit. This couldn’t be his untouched home, could it? Has someone staged this office to make it some kind of dedication to the great Axel Stone, or has this home really been sitting here empty for all this time?
The thought puts a jump in my step, and I hurry through the property, desperate to see what else is here. The kitchen and living spaces look like any other home and don’t give away much except the blown-up photograph of me, Axel, and Ezra on the wall—a photo I loved with all my heart until the anger in my soul had me delete the only copy I had off my phone.
Tears well in my eyes, but I don’t linger on it, instead, I head upstairs to the second floor, blown away with every new step I take. This home is incredible. And to think I’d been living out of the back of my car when I could have crashed here, especially on those nights that were below freezing.
I pass a room that looks like a home recording studio, and in the adjacent room is the extraordinary collection of guitars. Axel always considered himself a collector. He liked to have fancy things, and while I don’t really understand what I’m looking at, I know every guitar in this collection would have a story behind it, with an even bigger price tag.
There are a bunch of spare rooms and balconies that look over the huge yard and entertaining area. Not to mention, the pool that’s been kept perfect and looks like it was built for a god. In the summertime, I can only imagine the fun the boys would have had here.
Continuing on my journey, I come to a set of double doors at the end of a hallway, and as I grab them and peel them open, I realize this is Axel’s master bedroom.
A lump instantly forms in my throat as I take in his big, oversized bed, still with the blankets pulled back as though he hadn’t had a chance to make it before leaving. Tears well in my eyes, and I continue through the room, taking in the photo of me, Mom, and Ax on his bedside table. His phone charger still dangles from the outlet, and a glass of water still sits half full.
A suitcase is at the end of his bed, as though he’d just come in from his last tour and dumped his things, not bothering to take a moment to put his shit away. Typical Ax.
The tears roll down my face, and as I continue to his closet, I crumble to my knees, seeing all of his old clothes, but mixed in with the musky dust in the air, is him. I can smell him on his clothes, on the blankets stacked on the shelves, on the designer suits he absolutely hated.
My face falls into my hands, and as I sit here and cry, the grief comes up and claims me. “Oh God,” I cry, clutching one of the old blankets and pulling it to my chest, holding it so damn tight, I could almost imagine it is Axel.
Heavy sobs pull from deep in my chest, and I struggle to catch my breath. “I miss you,” I tell his empty closet. “You didn’t deserve to go, and I hate that you did, and I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye. I needed you there, not just these past two years, but all the time. I need you now. I need you to make everything okay because I’m falling apart. I’m so broken, Axel. I don’t know how to fix myself.”
More tears come, and I wipe them on the blanket. “I wasn’t good to you. I wasn’t a good sister. I should have been better, but I blamed you and Ezra for everything. I was in so much pain, and I needed to blame you, and that wasn’t fair. I put so much distance between us because I was so hurt and angry that you left me behind to endure all that hell. I was too blind to see that you thought you were doing what was best for me. You wanted me to have school, a home, and a path to my dreams, but you didn’t know what was waiting for me at home, and I hated that you couldn’t see everything I hid from you. I needed you to save me, but you were gone, and I was too afraid to speak. You were my protector and you left me all alone.”
I swallow over the lump in my throat, needing a minute to find some composure. “It’s not fair,” I whimper, hoping somehow, somewhere in this universe he’s listening. “It should have been me who died. You didn’t deserve this. You had so much more to achieve, so many dreams and tours to conquer. It would have been easier if it were me. You were my favorite person in the whole world. I love you so much. I miss you so much it hurts. I just . . . I need one more hug. I just need to hear your voice telling me that everything is going to be okay. I need you, Axel. Please.”
A moment of silence passes when a soft knock sounds at the door of the closet, and I whip my tear-stained face back to find Ezra hovering in the doorway. “Sorry,” he murmurs, his heart on his sleeve as he watches me fall to pieces on the ground. “The security company called to say someone was in the house.”
I nod, trying to wipe the tears off my face, and he doesn’t hesitate stepping into the closet and offering me his hand. “Come here,” he says as I take his hand. He pulls me to my feet and instantly wraps me in his arms, pulling me tight against his chest when I allow the tears to flow freely.
He scoops me up, bridal style, and drops down on a small bench, where he simply holds me, allowing the tears to run their course. “It wouldn’t have been easier,” he tells me, making me wonder just how much of my sob-fest he heard. “If it had been you . . . It wouldn’t have been easier.”
“It would have been for me.”
“Don’t. Don’t say that,” he says, getting upset. “You really think that? That life would have been easier if you were the one who died?”
“Yeah,” I say bluntly, no hint of hesitation in my tone as I push myself out of his arms and scramble to my feet. “A million times, yes.”
Ezra throws himself to his feet, shaking his head, instantly starting to pace through the closet. “Don’t say shit like that, Raleigh,” he says, rarely using my full name. “You’re fucking lying. You did not want to die.”
