3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Xavier

M y feet carried me to a place that my mind could barely remember. It was almost like I moved in a daze—the world around me was off , just like the hospital had been. A little different… like everything I'd experienced for the last two weeks while trying to figure out what was going on.

The way to Axel's house was the same; it was all a little too much in comparison to what I recalled… but the streets were familiar.

The twist of the road still followed the path I'd walked before. It had taken me a few days to remember it, but I had.

The long driveway was so green , and in my mind's eye, I could see the ghost of half-sprouted trees where they stood tall now.

Time had changed everything.

And somehow, the more I stepped forward, the more I realized I'd walked this path a hundred times before.

Axel .

He was the only thing I could clearly remember, his name the only word my tongue seemed eager to form. He was like a light, flickering and fluttering in the distance—it lured me in, drew me forward.

I just wasn't sure if I was stepping into warmth or flying like Icarus, too close to the sun and too eager to feel its heat to realize my wings were melting.

I wasn't afraid to burn.

And apparently, I wasn't afraid he was going to hurt me, because I barged into his house like I didn't look like a completely different person… like I hadn't spent days in a condo that I couldn't remember trying to figure out what was going on. I'd moved mechanically, familiar and yet not. Even though I'd never seen the place before, I knew where everything was. I knew how devices I'd never seen in my lifetime worked. In those two weeks, I'd learned to trust the instincts of the body I was in.

Because that's exactly what was going on.

I was in a body that wasn't mine—it was all there on that little flash drive that I had with me when I woke up. It had taken me a few days to figure out exactly what it was, exactly what it was for, but once I'd found Marshall's computer and set my fingers across the keys, that motion came to me on instinct as well. Opening the files revealed a truth that I'd half suspected but didn't want to admit.

My life wasn't my own—at least, not only mine.

There was a facility with a dark secret, a man named Heath Northman… an experiment gone corrupt that cost a young man his life…

Experiments, reincarnation… bringing souls back from the dead.

From the dead .

Which meant I'd…

But I couldn't remember dying , and I didn't know any situation I'd ever put myself in where I'd be in that much danger. I was careful.

I was precise.

I was…

In the body of a man named Marshall Lister, and as much as I'd never believed in ghosts or the paranormal before, I couldn't deny that I didn't look like myself. That I was shorter, and I had memories of how to operate a phone and a computer that I'd never even seen while I was alive.

But I couldn't remember who Marshall had been.

I couldn't remember why he had the flash drive.

And I couldn't remember how I'd…

Had I really died?

It was the only explanation for a very impossible situation. But I'd spent the entire time I was in that condo trying to talk myself out of it… and in those two weeks I'd only been able to think of doing one thing.

I needed to find Axel.

Axel would know.

Axel was the only home I knew.

"Please? Axel, I didn't know where else to go."

A burst of pain flashed through his eyes before they narrowed.

"Who the fuck are you ?" he said again, and when his long fingers circled around my upper arm and jerked me up to look at him, I felt my pulse race.

There was no mistaking it was him, even though he looked older. His face had been smooth when I'd known him, his hair dark and longer.

There were lines at the corners of his eyes now, pinched around his down-turned lips. A soft dusting of gray in his hair…

Like twenty-two years had passed.

Like it was really, truly happening… and somehow, even with every bit of evidence, with the computers and the phone and the fucking calendar telling me the date… it was seeing those blue eyes glaring at me that drove the point home.

"Fuck, this is real, isn't it?" I said in a hushed tone, and my hand came up of its own accord. He caught my fingers an inch from touching him, his grip on my wrist just shy of too painful.

It made warmth surge through my body. I'd been slowly getting bits and pieces of memories back. From my life. From Marshall's life.

And in so many of my memories, Axel held me just as tight. Like he wanted me to shatter, like he wanted to fuse us together so I couldn't pull away.

Like…

"Who—"

"Fuck's sake, Axel. If you ask me one more time who I am, I'm going to break your jaw."

It came out as a hissed threat, and I flashed my eyes up to him in warning.

Up to him .

That was different, too. I'd been taller than him before.

It didn't seem to matter though, because there was a moment of recognition that flared through his expression, chased on the wings of impossibility.

"I get it, baby. Trust me. I barely believe it myself, but… here we are." I pushed away from him and stepped closer to the fireplace. There really was a white rug burning down to cinders. Did he still burn evidence in his house sometimes when he was too tired to go to the incinerator he had on his other property?

Some things never changed.

"You—"

"Need a shower. And maybe something to eat. Oh, do you still cook that pasta dish your Ma taught you?" Every second I was with him, more memories trickled into my mind. A dozen nights curled up on his couch, eating pasta stuffed with cheese and meat while I forced him to watch some terrible horror movie with me.

He hated it.

For a man who cleaned up dead bodies for a living, he was easy to jump when scared.

And…

"How do you know about that?"

I put my hands on my hips impatiently. I hadn't been exactly forthcoming with information, but maybe there was a part of me that was convinced he'd know—that he'd see me, see my eyes, and he'd know it was me.

Maybe a part of me wanted him to feel me, to see me… to show me that I was really real, that I was here… and that all of this wasn't some kind of batshit delusion I was under, because there was still a small part of me that couldn't believe it, even though I'd spent two weeks reading about the facility where Marshall had worked and going through his condo. He'd been a real person. The experiment they'd been running on past lives and reincarnation had been a real thing.

And even though I couldn't remember much about who I'd been before, I knew that I wasn't him. I wasn't Marshall… I was Xavier…

So…

"Don't you recognize me? Fuck, I know I've lost a few pounds… and a few inches… and I'm in a completely new body, but damn. I thought I meant more to you than that."

Did I detect a small string of truthfulness in what I said? Shit, I'd meant it as a tease. Of course, he probably wouldn't recognize me.

I didn't even recognize me when I looked in the mirror.

But still…

"I know what… who you're pretending to be. But…" It was there in his eyes, a hope so fragile I could have shattered it with a puff of my breath, and behind that a pain so bottomless I was surprised he could breathe around it.

Fuck… Had I done that to him when I left him?

Had he really loved me that much?

"Axel—"

"It's impossible ," he snapped. "He's dead."

Dead .

There was that word again, and it sent the same shiver of dread up my spine as it had when I was reading the file about the experiment Marshall had been working on. Bringing dead souls back to life—bringing people who had died in the past into the present.

Which meant somewhere along the way, I'd fucked up… but it was all a blank. There was void, nothingness. There were just flashes and memories of Axel, and thoughts of who I used to be.

There was Marshall's knowledge and instinct, and tiny hints of the life he'd lived before I overtook it.

But there was no Marshall lingering in my mind.

And there was no memory of what had happened to me.

Whatever notes he'd made on the people named Seth and Jayce, they didn't seem to apply to my situation.

I just wanted…

"Surprise, surprise. I guess I'm too stubborn to die." I hoped the snark outweighed the unsurety I was feeling. I didn't like not knowing what was going on. As far as I could remember, I'd always had a plan. I'd always known what I was doing.

Until I met Axel.

He'd always fucked things up, hadn't he?

"I don't know what you're playing at, or who you're working for," he growled. "But I can promise you, I'm not someone you want to fuck with. Just because I'm not a killer for pay doesn't mean I don't know exactly how to get rid of a body once I'm finished with it."

The vehemence in his voice arrowed along my body and made my skin tingle. Even though he was threatening me, and even though it made something in my chest ache that he didn't seem to recognize me…

Apparently, rough and tough Axel had only gotten hotter with age. If you'd asked me before, I would have said it was impossible.

Obviously I was wrong.

Then again, if you'd asked me if I was going to be in a situation where Axel had no idea who I was, and he was suddenly twenty years older than me…

Well, I guess I'd been wrong about a lot of things.

"Listen, Fetterman," I hissed his last name. "You've guarded everything about yourself but your name since the moment I met you. Unless you've seriously slipped in the years since I…" I couldn't make myself say the word died , so I settled on something a little less dramatic. "Since I left , how would I know any of this?" My brows knit together and my arms crossed over my chest again. I wasn't sure if it was so I could look stubborn or in some strange effort to comfort myself. "Did you get yourself a new boyfriend as soon as I died and cook for him ? Because that's the only way anyone would know."

Unreasonable.

I was being unreasonable.

If everything I'd been learning over the last few weeks was true, and if the world really had continued to spin while I'd been… gone… I couldn't blame him if he'd found someone else.

I couldn't be upset with him.

Of course… I'd never been a reasonable person to begin with.

"You don't know what you're—"

"I know exactly what I'm talking about." I took a step toward him again, and part of me wondered if it was because I wanted to confront him, or if some tether between us refused to let me be this close to him without trying to put my hands on him. Even if I couldn't remember what had happened to me, some part of me seemed starkly aware that I'd missed things.

Lots of things.

So much time…

And now…

"Once upon a time, you promised I would be the only person you'd ever love. You told me there wouldn't be anyone else. Did you lie to me, Axel?"

It wasn't fair.

I wasn't being fair.

And I didn't care.

"Fuck you," he snapped, but I could hear the pain behind the vitriol. "I'm done playing this game." He was in my face before I'd even realized he was moving, and the thrill of his proximity stole my breath away.

It made me stupid, apparently.

His hand twisted in my curls and jerked my head back, forcing me to look up at him. It only hurt because I could see the way he searched my face, see the way he was trying to see the truth in what I was saying.

And I could see it when he talked himself out of the reality that was standing right in front of him.

"It's easy to get information, and what you're saying is impossible. I don't know who you are, and I don't know what you want with me, but I'm done with this."

I'm done with you .

I don't know why the words echoed so painfully in my chest, or why the way he looked away from me while he said it hurt worse than the tangle of his fingers sending pinpricks of pain across my scalp.

Whatever it was, it was enough to make me reel back, jerking from his hold. He let me loose like I'd burned him.

"You know, I don't know what the fuck I was thinking coming here. It was obviously a mistake," I snapped. The anger in my voice seemed to take him aback, and it was probably that shock that let me push past him. "Honestly, I should have known better. You always were an asshole, Sunshine. Guess I forgot for a minute, what with being thrown into a new body and all."

Sunshine. Fuck. I'd called him that so many times, first teasing and taunting him, because he was anything but. Then, because I meant it—because he was warmth on my skin, the only light I'd ever really known.

Except… he was actually the biggest asshole on the planet. I was remembering that now, too.

"Wait—"

"Nope." I made sure the word resonated clearly through the room as I wrenched his front door open. I wasn't sure where I was going to go. Maybe back to Marshall's condo. Maybe I could find more information on the stupid flash drive that would lead me to better answers.

Maybe I needed to do something even more useful, like try to figure out what the fuck had happened in the last twenty-something years… and what had happened the night I'd died.

But whatever I needed to do, it obviously wasn't in this house, and it wasn't with Axel.

So why did it feel so wrong when I slammed the door behind me and took off into the darkness?