04-05-2019, 11:58 PM
![[Image: axel-1.jpg]](https://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/axel-1.jpg)
His face tilted downward, warmth blushing his cheeks rosy. “I didn’t mean to imply that. I’m so sorry,” embarrassment fluttered butterflies, but the humor lifted the clouds choking the room with tension. He left Natalie and Cayli with a confident nod. The moment the door gently closed behind him, he sank against the paneling, dizzy with the rush. He’d not eaten either, but those butterflies chased away hunger. He had a search to conduct, and instinctually, his sights turned toward the double doors of the master bedroom down the hall. Jessika was unlikely to be up and around, yet, and Jensen certainly wished to avoid interrupting her in the shower. Hopefully she was alone in it.
He grabbed an apple downstairs if only for the normalcy the motion of biting into it gave him as he strolled casually about the main level. The second office, previously Jessika’s, was something of a library now, and the hundreds of vintage books lured. He stood there a moment, apple crunching with a fresh bite, when a head crossed the outer window. The sinking feeling in his gut grew, but he focused on the apple, swallowing it carefully, licked his lips afterward.
Birds chirped outside, and the morning was wet with dew. The fountain trickled pleasantly. He scanned the cobblestone drive a moment and finally studied the gatehouse as he whittled away at the apple.
When Jessika kicked him out of the bedroom, Axel happily obliged. The woman snored for Christ’s sake and kicked the shit out of his leg in her sleep. Maybe it was charming at first – fuck that, it was never charming – but he could tolerate some annoying habits for that hot ass. Goddamn but she liked it weird, too. It was like all those years with what sounded like a really uncomfortable preacher attempting the missionary position finally caught up with her. That first screw shocked the hell out of him, and he was more than willing to come back for more. But now he wanted out. Fuck the cartels and government alike. Not like he got anything out of wearing the flag on his shoulder all those years, blowing shit up for his country. And he had to divorce the one thing he really wanted. So fuck them all.
He was walking the house exterior, routine checks, when he turned a corner and found a strange sight. That probably should have been his first warning that something was wrong. Instincts blared warning in his head for the sheer oddity of the situation, but curiosity even got Axel once in a while. He stood aside, about 20 paces away, studying Jensen’s profile. The causal way he snapped on the apple until it was neatly wrapped up in a napkin and laid aside. He remembered the guy on tv, not that he watched that kind of shit. Back then Axel was living the dream with Carpenter up in the jungles somewhere, but the job for Thrice researched her background. Jensen James was full of more bullshit than anyone he’s ever heard about. No wonder Jessika was miserable with him. He pulled a zippo from a pocket, one with an American flag scratched to hell on the side and joined James on the landing.
He knew Axel was coming. He saw him walk by the library window a minute beforehand, but Jensen chose to finish his apple. He wiped the juice from his lips when it was done, wrapped it up and neatly laid it aside. Something about the motions kept the butterflies quiet, even as he knew a hard-blooded warrior was stalking him at the very moment. He glanced, uncomfortable with the man’s proximity. They were nearly shoulder to shoulder.
James was quiet, contemplative. Axel’s curiosity grew by the moment. Must be weird for the guy to be back in his own house after years gone. When James looked at him, Axel put a cigarette to his lip. Silently, he offered one to James, just to be friendly. “Cancer stick, preacher?” A sly smirk tugged around the paper.
Jensen James certainly didn’t smoke. He didn’t curse. He didn’t drink. He abstained from sex until marriage and honored his parents. He gave money to the poor. He held hands with the dying and comforted those left behind.
So when he plucked a cigarette from the pack, held it to his gaze and lit it with a small swirl of fiery Gift, he might as well have petitioned for a new identity. He took a long drag, coughing only a little as a result, and studied the birds. “The first time I tried one I coughed for five minutes, but it was definitely nice. I understood quickly why people needed them so much. It only took two shots of whiskey to get me drunk back then too.”
He blinked, shocked sideways, when the preacher actually took up the offer. He put the drag to his lips like an expert, not to mention that little trick with the channeling glowing the paper red. Guess that proved that. “You speak the truth, preacher. I’ll probably die with one in my hand. Started when I was in the service.”
This time, he turned enough to face Axel. They were about the same height, but Axel was infinitely fitter. The very way he held himself was that of a lion among lambs. It was completely obvious who was the dominant among them. He could turn back now. Go inside without a word about anything, but that meant that Natalie would take his place. Only if he was too weak. Oh God his stomach turned, and not just because of the smoke. The Gift was giving him strength, and like riding on the wings of eagles, he needed to soar with the flows.
As he turned, Axel did also, sensing the looming confrontation, ready to meet it head on. The man’s eyes were hard as rock, jaw and mouth tight. What had he seen in his life to make him this way? To sacrifice friends and children without remorse? Jensen had to remind himself that this man was evil, because something else tried to erode his confidence that he could actually pull this off.
His voice fell low, mindful of anyone that might accidentally listen. Two members of a cleaning service were walking up about then.
“I am going to ask you to stop sleeping with Jessika,” he said.
Axel’s gaze slid downward, “Why preacher? You want to blow me instead.”
Jensen’s heart pound in his chest, and every instinct said to run away. He swallowed, reaching for words that simply didn’t want to form.
Axel stepped closer, threatening, scary. Jensen felt his lips go dry. Smoke curled between their faces. But he made himself hold that gaze. Losing it now meant defeat. He had to find out what happened to Jay. Find out what Axel knew.
So the preacher was a ballsy son of a bitch. The boyish beard wisps, feminine pallor, stunt with the cigarette and power. Inwardly, Axel might have smiled with pride. Instead, he issued an edict. How he found out about himself and Jessika was a mystery. Course, he wouldn’t put it past that bitch to simply tell Jensen out of sheer enjoyment of watching her ex squirm with discomfort.
When he stepped nearer, it was mostly to invite confrontation, but the moment the preacher squirmed, Axel knew his weakness. It was pathetic how quickly he gave it up. Fucked up thing was, if the preacher wanted to blow him, Axel was likely to let him have at it.
When silence gripped the wordy bastard’s tongue, Axel barked a laugh. “When you’re ready to man up preacher, you come find me,” he said, leaving him alone on that fucking step.
With @JayCarpenter