Chapter 77 Part 77

Chapter 77 Part 77
Axl

His phone buzzed and he exhaled slowly, staring at the screen before flipping it face down on the counter. Even now, there were expectations of him, places he needed to appear at, people to meet, cameras to smile at.
“Is there a way to get out of this building without anyone knowing?” he asked.
North frowned as he scooped pasta onto two plates. “Why?”
“Because we can’t be seen leaving or coming back. I can post something saying I’m in Cambridge visiting my friend. That gives us an alibi. People already know I don’t do the whole ‘public appearances and autographs’ thing unless I have to.”
North set the plates down and leaned against the counter. “Yeah. There’s a maintenance staircase. It leads into an alley at the back. No cameras.”
“Good.” Axl nodded once. “Tell me more about this house Weston has. You’re sure he’s there?”
“He goes every last weekend of the month. Sometimes more. It’s remote. Quiet. No neighbors for miles. He calls it his escape.” North’s jaw tightened. “He’ll be there.”
Axl sat down, pushing his plate slightly aside. His appetite had vanished. “We go out for drinks first. Lindy can upload photos of us at a bar. That draws attention to your building. We leave for Charlton after midnight, do what we have to do, and get back before sunrise. We’ll have breakfast in the morning before I leave again, publically.”
North studied him carefully. “Can we use your rental?”
“Yes. It’s registered under Brian Kirkwood.” Axl’s mouth tilted slightly. “I’ve learned a thing or two.”
They ate in near silence. The normalcy of it felt surreal. Two friends having dinner. Planning murder between bites of pasta. It didn’t feel like weeks had passed in silence between them. An hour later, they were in a crowded student bar in Cambridge. Music pulsed through the walls. Axl ordered a club soda. He needed his head clear. It didn’t take long.
The stares began immediately and then people lost their minds as they recognized him. It was always the same. He put on his rockstar smile and shifted into the Axl the world expected.
“Can you sign my shirt?” A platinum blonde girl appeared at his side, already smiling as if she knew the answer. He signed near her collarbone, posed for photos, smiled on command. North introduced him to classmates. Laughter. Noise. Movement.
An hour later, they slipped out. By morning, photos would circulate. Axl Reynolds partying in Cambridge. Headlines already writing themselves. At midnight, they dressed in dark clothes. No logos. No distinguishing marks. They took the maintenance stairs. The building was quiet. Their footsteps echoed softly against concrete. The alley smelled like damp brick and trash bins.
Axl’s rental sat parked in shadow. The drive to Charlton was long and mostly silent. The roads were empty except for the occasional streetlights. The world was asleep around them.
“You sure there’s no security?” Axl asked quietly.
“It’s not in his name. That’s the security,” North replied.
Axl parked a mile from the property and killed the engine. The house loomed ahead in darkness, massive and still. They crossed the field on foot. Grass damp beneath their boots. North retrieved a spare key from the flowerpot beside the door. Inside, the air felt heavy.
North moved first, opening the bureau drawer in the foyer. He pulled out the gun and slid it into his pocket. A light flicked on upstairs. They both froze. Weston appeared at the top of the staircase in a robe, tying the belt loosely. He looked almost amused.
“North? What are you doing here?”
“We need to talk. Now.”
Weston descended calmly, unaware. When he reached the bottom, Axl stepped forward. His fist connected with Weston’s jaw. The impact echoed sharply in the quiet house. Weston dropped to one knee, stunned.
“Axl,” he said through clenched teeth.
North raised the gun. “Remember when you said you couldn’t wait to see what I’d do?” North’s voice shook slightly. “You don’t have to wait anymore.” He pulled the trigger. The sound was deafening. Weston’s head snapped back. His body collapsed heavily onto the floor. North lowered the gun slowly. It slipped from his fingers and clattered against the wood.
“Shit,” he whispered. “I killed him.”
Axl moved immediately. He picked up the gun and placed it across Weston’s abdomen. His movements were steady, almost detached. He ran upstairs and grabbed a thick blanket from a guest room. When he returned, North still stood frozen.
“Help me,” Axl said firmly.
They rolled the body onto the blanket. Weston felt heavier than he should have. Dead weight in the truest sense. They carried him outside to the barn. The cold air cut into Axl’s lungs. North opened the trapdoor in the floor. Darkness yawned beneath them. Without speaking, they dragged the blanket to the edge and let it fall. The sound of the body tumbling down the steps thudded hollowly. North shut the trapdoor and leaned both palms against it.
“It’s done.”
“Not yet,” Axl replied. “We need to clean up in the house.”
They wiped surfaces. Checked for prints. Collected shell casings. Straightened furniture. Erased signs of forced entry. By the time they left, the house looked undisturbed. The drive back felt unreal.
North started laughing suddenly. “We did it.”
Axl kept his eyes on the road. “Yeah.”
“We actually did it. Thank you, Axl.”
“Don’t,” Axl said quietly.
North turned to him. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t make this something it’s not.”
Silence returned. After a moment, North spoke again. “You saved my mom.”
Axl didn’t answer immediately. He wasn’t thinking about Janine. He was thinking about Aspen. About how far things had fallen. He shook his head.
“You saved her, North. I just helped you clean it up. We never talk about this,” Axl said firmly. “Ever. We had a guys’ weekend. We drank. We partied. That’s it. When he’s reported missing, you don’t mention Charlton. The longer it takes them to find that house, the colder the trail gets.”
North nodded slowly. “I’ll never forget what you did.”
“We’re brothers,” Axl replied. “We’ll always be brothers.”
Back at the apartment, they showered separately. Axl watched dark water spiral down the drain and tried not to think about what it represented. When he stepped back into the kitchen, North was already there, staring at a cup of coffee like it held answers. They didn’t speak much.
At eight a.m., they walked out the front door together. Cameras flashed instantly. Axl slipped into performance mode. Easy smile. Casual wave. Sunglasses down. They walked to breakfast. Two friends enjoying a weekend together.
When Axl drove out of Cambridge that afternoon, the city shrinking in his rearview mirror, he understood something with chilling clarity. Nothing would ever be the same again. Not for North. Not for him. And not for the version of himself that had once believed music was the only thing that kept the darkness away.