Falling for Hadley: A Novel (Chasing the Harlyton Sisters 2)

“That depends on who’s asking?” I manage to say in a fairly even voice, although my throat is drier than Londyn’s brownies.

His face remains stoic as he studies me. “Are you asking me to introduce myself?”

I shrug. “You haven’t yet, so maybe you should. I mean, if you really want to know my name, then I should probably know yours first. Otherwise, you’re just some strange dude asking for my name, and I never give strangers my name.”

Everyone in the room is staring at me, some of their lips twitching in irritation, while others look fuming mad. Liam, though, looks mildly amused, so I deem him my favorite. Well, at least amongst all the creepy people in this room.

“Axel Maeiriellie.” He gives a dramatic pause. “Does that change your mind on giving me your name?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. It depends on who you are, Axel Maeiriellie, and what you’re planning to do with this Hadley Harlyton.” I cross my legs and overlap my hands around my knees, mostly to keep my legs from shaking. “So, how about we start with that, and then I’ll decide?”

Holy effing, I’m about to piss my pants. My heart is thrashing in my chest so forcefully I swear it’s trying to escape. Usually, I call the thing a stupid dumbass, but I think it might be thinking smartly this time around.

With his eyes trained on me, he shifts back and rests his elbow against the countertop behind him. “You know, usually when someone talks to me like that, I stop the conversation before they can even finish.”

My palms dampen with sweat. “Yet, you didn’t do that.”

“I know.” He rubs his lips together, his gaze searing into me. “I’m trying to figure out why.”

“Because, while I’m feisty and opinionated, I’m also a bit amusing and endearing?” I suggest with hope. “At least, that’s what some people say.”

“But those people aren’t me,” he says, the epitome of calm.

“I know,” I reply just as calmly. “But it’s the only way I know how to act. I mean, I could be fake and pretend to be scared shitless of you, but what sort of way would that be to go out? Pretending I’m some weak coward when I’m not.” I shrug. “No thanks.”

“So, you think I’m going to kill you?” he questions with a trace of a smile.

I lift a shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe, I guess.”

“And you’re not scared at all?”

“If I was, why would I tell you? It’s what you want, right? And since you’re about to end me, I really don’t want to give you what you want.” Vomit burns the back of my throat.

“You’re nothing like your father,” he states with a grin.

The sudden burst of emotion radiating from him throws me off for a snap of an instant.

“Okay …?” Confusion seeps through my tone. “Is that a good thing?”

“You tell me?” He watches me closely.

“Well, considering you probably don’t like my father very much right now, I’m going to have to go with a yes.”

“And what if I did like your father?” he wonders. “Then what’d be your answer?”

I feel like I’m being tested and not exactly sure how to pass, I just answer honestly. “I’d say no.”

He says nothing, shucking off his jacket and handing it to the man beside him. Then he rolls up his sleeves, taking his sweet time. In the background, the redhead has stopped beating Austin, apparently done punishing him. Well, either that or Austin is passed out on the floor. I can’t see from where I’m sitting, so I’m unsure.

“You’re insane. Do you know that?” Amelia whispers with a huge grin.

“Okay …” I slant away from her because her insane grinning is making me super uneasy. Plus, it’s weird that she’s sitting right beside me, yet her father doesn’t even seem aware that she’s here.

“Just relax.” She places a hand on my leg. “I think this is going to work.”

“What is …?” I start to ask, but then Axel slips on a pair of brass knuckles.

I’m not certain if I feel relieved he took out the brass knuckles or not. It could be worse. He could’ve taken out his gun.

“What do you know about me, Hadley Harlyton?” Axel asks as he paces the floor in front of me with his hands tucked behind his back.

I fight back a gulp. “Do you want me to answer that honestly?”

“You’ve been so honest up to this point and I haven’t hurt you yet, so what do you think?” He stops in front of me, waiting.

I swallow hard. “I’ve heard that you’re corrupt, that you run illegal gambling sites, that you hate Mr. Porterson, and that you’re kind of insane.”

“Kind of insane?” he muses thoughtfully. “And what’s your assessment on that so far? Do you think I’d pass a sanity test?”

I shrug. “That all depends on what sort of a psychopath you are.”

His brows lower. Totally not the answer he was expecting.

He motions at me. “Please explain.”

I uncross my legs and grip the back of the sofa. “If you’re a smart nutjob, you could probably lie and pass the test with flying colors. But if you’re stupid, you’ll fail.”

“And do you think I’m stupid?” he asks.

I’m smart enough to know there’s only one right answer to his question. “No. If you were, you wouldn’t have a room full of people who I’m assuming will do just about anything you ask.”

He stares me down for a slamming heart race of a second then sharply claps his hands, startling me so badly my bladder threatens to reveal that my cool act is total bullshit.

“Bravo,” he says while clapping. “You’ve answered that question better than anyone else. And I’ve asked it a lot.”

“Well, it’s the truth.” I give a nonchalant shrug, vomit threatening to force its way up my throat. If I puke right now, he’s not going to be so impressed with me anymore.

“Usually, people are crying by now, too,” he adds, lowering his hands to his side.

“I’m not really a crier,” I admit honestly. “Besides, if I started crying now, all that’d happen is I’d end up with swollen eyes, a headache, and a snotty nose, and what good will that do me?”

“Spoken like a Maeiriellie.” His gaze bores into mine. “Who taught you that?”

“Taught me what?” I ask. “How not to cry?”

“How not to feel.”

That’s not what I’m doing …

Is it?

No, I feel.

I felt for five minutes last night when I bawled my eyes out on the kitchen floor. But I’m not about to tell this dude that.

“I guess it’s just a gift.”

“A very good one.” He drags his brass-covered knuckles along the palm of his hand. “But the question is: is that enough?”

Silences stretches by, the room’s so quiet I can hear my own heart beating in my chest and Austin’s shallow breathing flowing from the kitchen. Axel is waiting for me to ask. I don’t want to. I fear the answer. But I can’t let my fear own me now.

“Is what enough?” I dare ask, the slightest tremble in my tone.

Please don’t notice.

A grin curls at his lips. “If I can use that to my benefit or not.”

I’m not sure if I want him to be able to or not.

“My first initial impression is yes.” He sinks down onto the edge of an end table. “However, I was made aware earlier today that you also struck a deal with August.”

August? Who the hell is that? My brows furrow, but then it clicks.

I press my lips together and take a preparing inhale through my nose. “I had to.”

“Did you?” he questions. “Because, from my experience, only the weak ever get forced into doing something they don’t want to do.”

“Perhaps,” I agree. “Unless they’re forced to because the forcer threatened something they care about.”

“Caring makes hearts weak, though, Hadley,” he tells me. “If you were strong, you’d understand that.”