Chapter 89 Part 89

Chapter 89 Part 89
Aspen

She read through the article that North had sent her again, her thumb hovering over the screen as if rereading it might somehow change the words. Her chest felt tight, a dull pressure that refused to ease. She couldn’t believe it—the exaggerations, the outright lies, the way fragments of truth had been twisted into something ugly and sensational. What shocked her most, though, was the mention that Merit had gone to Axl’s concert in Florida two years earlier, and that she’d been pregnant. That single line lodged itself in Aspen’s mind, heavy and sharp. Axl couldn’t be the father. He would’ve told her if he was. She knew that with unyielding certainty.
“What’s wrong?” Axl asked as he emerged from the bathroom wearing only a pair of jeans, his hair still damp, water droplets trailing down his chest.
“Read that,” Aspen said, her voice steady despite the tension coiling in her stomach, and handed her phone over to him.
Axl sat down on the edge of the bed and read the article. She watched his face closely—the way his jaw clenched, the muscles bulging beneath his skin as pressure built. His lips flattened into a hard line. He closed his eyes, lowering his head for a moment as if bracing himself, before handing the phone back. His hands dragged through his hair, fingers curling tightly, and when he finally looked at her again, his gaze was cold, guarded, and resolute.
“Merit did come to see me at my show,” he said. “She told me she was pregnant with Weston’s child, and that she couldn’t reach him. She was scared and alone, and didn’t know what else to do.”
“So she tried to make it your problem?” Aspen asked, disbelief edging her tone.
“Aspen… two weeks later I went to visit North in Cambridge.” He exhaled slowly, as though choosing each word with care. “I told North we needed to help her. That despite what happened between her and me, she was still a person. North agreed with me that Weston would see her as a problem—”
“Axl, did you have anything to do with Weston going missing?”
The question slipped out before she could stop it. He looked down again, swallowing hard, then nodded. Her breath caught.
“What did you do?”
“Aspen—”
“Tell me!” Her voice cracked, fear and urgency surging together.
“I told North that short of killing him, there wasn’t much we could do.” His voice was quiet now, heavy with grim honesty. “I told North that Merit should stay with him until the baby was born. I didn’t want to look after her, and I couldn’t, not with being on the road all the time. North asked me to go with him… and we killed Weston.”
“Shit, Axl.” Her heart pounded violently. “What if you were caught? You can still be caught!”
“Weston had this house fifty miles from North’s apartment,” he continued, his tone disturbingly calm. “It was remote and private. In the barn there was a trapdoor. We moved his body there and pushed the old tractor over it. When you walk into the barn, you can’t even see it.” He paused briefly. “We cleaned the house and left. Nobody knew we were gone. People were staking out North’s apartment building, believing we were inside. Nobody saw us leave.”
Aspen’s hands trembled slightly in her lap. “What happened to Merit after that?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t call her because Weston was dead. He wasn’t a threat anymore. I haven’t heard from her again.”
“And the house?” she asked. “Does North own it now or what?”
“Yeah. He took ownership. The police searched it a few months later, but they concluded Weston hadn’t been there. Everything was spotless.” He looked at her then. “I had a good plan, Aspen.”
“Does Janine know?”
“No. Nobody else knows. You, me, and North—that’s the circle.”
Aspen exhaled slowly, grounding herself. “You need to put out a statement. Your publicist’s probably going half insane not being able to reach you. You confirm the parts that are true and state that Merit went to your show and told you about her pregnancy, but deny that you’re the father.”
“I think it might be better if I just stay quiet,” he said. “Let it blow over. It’s insignificant. It’s my past. I don’t care if people know I lived in a trailer or that I raised Peyton. And if they find Merit, she’ll confirm I’m not the father.”
“Call your publicist and your agent,” Aspen said firmly. “Listen to what they have to say. Then we decide.”
Axl picked up his phone from the nightstand, clenching it tightly. He looked into her eyes for a long moment, something vulnerable flickering beneath his hardened exterior.
“Aspen—”
“I don’t care what you did,” she said softly but with unyielding resolve. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you. That doesn’t change because he’s dead and you helped. He was the devil himself, and I’m glad he’s dead.”
His shoulders loosened slightly at her words. “Can I tell them we’re married?” he asked. “If we share that on social media, it’ll take the spotlight off the other story.”
“You can shout it from the rooftops if you want to,” she replied.
Axl powered his phone on and grimaced at the flood of notifications. He dismissed everything, then scrolled through his contacts before pressing a button and putting it on speaker.
“Hi, Lindy.”
“Holy shit, Axl,” Lindy snapped. “Do you have any idea what kind of shitstorm your silence has caused?”
He chuckled lightly. “I’m guessing it’s not great.”
“Don’t joke,” she said sharply. “You told me you were going off-grid, not disappearing during a media firestorm. I’ve had the label, legal, and half your sponsors asking where the hell you are.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“They’re asking for an interview,” she said. “One controlled interview. Live, but with boundaries. No apologies for things you didn’t do. No speculation.”
“Some of it is true,” Axl said evenly. “I wasn’t a bully in school. Merit’s pregnancy wasn’t because of me. The rest is true.”
“Yes, I know you grew up in a trailer,” Lindy said immediately. “That’s not news to me, and it’s not a problem. Neither is Peyton. We lean into that—resilience, responsibility, stability.” She paused. “What is a problem is you going silent when the internet decides to eat you alive.”
He didn’t say anything. It didn’t help arguing with Lindy. She could be feisty but she was usually right and Axl wasn’t in the mood to piss her off. He probably couldn’t afford to at this point.
“I’ll send you the interview outline,” she continued. “You stick to it. You don’t improvise. You don’t spiral. You stay reachable.”
“Anything I do will have to be telephonic,” he said. “I’m in Bora Bora.”
Lindy sighed. “Why am I not surprised? Just… stay put.”
“And, Lindy—”
“Yes?”
“I got married two days ago,” he said. “I’m guessing that’ll help answer the questions as to where I’ve been.”
Lindy huffed out a laugh. “Yes, that would definitely help. I need photos, Axl. Please tell me you took photos.”
“I’ll send what I have.”
“Good. Keep your phone on. I’ll call when I have more. And… congratulations.”
Axl ended the call and looked at Aspen, relief and tension still warring behind his eyes.