The Money
1202 Words
HAZEL
Axel stops.
The room seems to fall quieter, stiller, colder. He doesn’t turn right away. He just stands there, unmoving. And then slowly, very, very slowly, he turns his head over his shoulder and looks at me.
That look alone chills me. My grip on the towel tightens. I swallow, but my throat feels raw. I opened my mouth for a reason, I stopped him for a reason but now that he’s looking at me, I realize I have nothing to say.
What was I going to tell him? What explanation did I think I had?
"I just… I…" But the words won’t come. They don’t exist.
Axel still doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak. He just waits.
And somehow, that is worse. His patience is something I have never understood. A patience that isn’t gentle, or kind, or soft. It’s controlled. Measured. Dangerous. A kind of patience that gets under the skin and settles there....cold and steady.
“Hazel,” he finally says.
My name feels like it travels down my spine, settling right at the base. I look up and realize he has fully turned toward me now.
“Come here,” he says.
I don’t want to move. I don’t want to go anywhere near him. But I also don’t want to disobey him, not now, not after everything tonight, not after what I saw, not after what I think I know.
So I take a step forward. And the space between us begins shrinking again. My breathing is the only sound in the room, shaky and uneven, far too loud in my own ears. I stop close to him, not close enough for him to grab me without taking a step, but close enough that I could turn to run, he’d still catch me.
“You’re afraid of me,” he says suddenly.
It’s not a question. It’s a statement.
“Yes,” I finally say after some silence.
He looks at me more closely now, his eyes searching mine, like he’s weighing that one word, like he’s taking it apart piece by piece.
“I thought you had stopped being scared of me,” he says.
I shake my head, small and stiff.
Because tonight, seeing him try to hand me over to Mac, seeing Nico crumble, seeing what this world really is.... Yeah. I’m afraid.
It was a reminder of the man I am dealing with.
Axel watches me, waiting for something I can’t understand. Then he nods once, slow.
“It’s good that you’re afraid of me,” he says. “It will save you.”
And just like that, he turns away again.
It will save me?
From what?
From him?
What the hell does that mean?
He suddenly stops again. He slips a hand into his jacket, and I nearly scream, thinking he’s about to pull a gun. But instead, he takes out a phone.
He holds it out to me.
I stare. “What’s that?”
“Go on. Take it,” he says.
I take it slowly. It’s new. Empty. Like it’s never been used.
“This isn’t your phone?” I ask.
“No.” His voice is steady. Controlled. “You always sneak into my office to call home. I decided to give you a chance today. This is your phone.”
He was furious minutes ago. Now he’s handing me a phone?
“What’s it for?” I ask, suspicious.
“It’s for whatever you people do every day,” he says. “But just a heads up, it has a tracking device. I’m monitoring it. So don’t try anything you shouldn’t. I will know. And it won’t go well for you.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, thanks for killing my dream,” I snap before I can stop myself.
His lips twitch, just a half smile. Not a full one. Just enough to show he heard it.
“And,” he adds, “I put a gift in there for you. I know you’ll want to see it.”
“A gift? What kind of gift?” I look at the phone again.
“Maybe check your bank account.”
Bank account?
“Goodnight, Hazel,” he says.
Then he opens the door and walks out. Leaving me standing there, wet towel, new phone, heart pounding, confused as hell... and mostly suspicious.
I stare at the door long after it shuts behind him.
A gift.
In my bank account.
I sit there for a few seconds, towel still wrapped around me, fingers trembling slightly. The phone feels too heavy in my hand for what it is. It feels like something else. Something I’m not ready to look at.
But I tap the screen anyway. It lights up. Blank wallpaper. No apps except the basics. No messages. Clean. Controlled. His style written all over it.
My throat tightens as I open the banking app. I know the login by memory because I don't exactly have plenty of accounts to remember.
My fingertips feel stiff as I type.
Username.
Password.
The loading circle turns… and turns… And then the number appears. My breath leaves me.
One million dollars.
$1,000,000.00
Sitting in my account like it had always belonged there. My heart doesn’t speed up.
It stops for a second.
One million dollars!!
I blink at the screen again, as if maybe I read it wrong, as if maybe my eyes are playing games with me. But no. The number stays. It doesn’t move. It doesn’t disappear.
When was the money put in my account?
My fingers tremble as I open the transaction history. The page loads slowly, too slowly like it knows I need the answer and wants to drag it out.
And there it is.
The date.
The time.
Right around the moment we were at that party. Right around the moment Mac probably handed Axel the money. Right around the moment I didn’t know I was being sold.
So this must be the same money Mac had paid him for me.
I sit down because my legs feel like they can't hold my weight anymore. The floor is cold. Hard. Real. I need something real right now.
I stare at the number, and suddenly I can't breathe. What is this?
He gave the money to me?
Why?
What's it for?
Is it payment for my silence?
Is it an apology?
Is it a reminder of what I'm worth?
Or worse..... Is it a reminder that I am for sale?
My hands shake, and I feel my chest begin to tighten like there’s rope around my lungs, pulling tighter and tighter.
All of a sudden, a tear rolls down my face, because this is reality, isn't it?
This is the reality that Axel sold me.
And this is the reality of the money I was sold for.
My vision blurs as more tears fall. My breath comes in uneven, jagged pulls.
Why did he give it to me?
This money wasn’t gifted.
It wasn’t a reward.
It wasn’t earned.
I was sold for something I didn’t do. Is he reminding me to get ready for what follows next?
What kind of mind games is he playing with me?
- Writer
