Hometown

Chapter Seven

Early the next morning, Axel stood on the back porch of his parents’ home, the worn wood cool beneath his bare feet. The air carried that quiet, early stillness—soft, untouched, like the world hadn’t fully woken up yet.

It felt different here.

Slower.

Cleaner.

Like time had decided to move more gently in Pickett’s Creek, even after everything.

His gaze stretched past the yard, beyond the familiar slope of grass and fence line, settling on the tree line in the distance. Dense. Green. Unchanged. He knew exactly what lay beyond it. Harmony’s childhood home. Not even a mile away. The distance felt almost laughable now—how something so small could hold so much weight. How something so close could feel completely out of reach.

His jaw tightened slightly as memories surfaced without permission.

Late nights. Soft laughter carried through the dark. The faint scrape of bark against skin as she climbed that old oak tree like she had done it a thousand times before. Because she had. Agile. Fearless. Determined in a way that had always made it impossible to tell her no. He could still picture it clearly—her hand reaching for the edge of his window, eyes bright with mischief, lips already curving into a grin before she even pulled herself inside.

Like she belonged there.

Like she belonged with him.

Axel exhaled slowly, the breath leaving him heavier than it should have.

Seven years.

Seven years, and not one person in this town would say her name to him.

Not Sammy.

Not Jake.

Not even May—Harmony’s closest friend, the one person he thought might give him something. Anything. But she had shut down just as quickly, brushing past his questions like they had not been spoken at all.

And his parents… They were the worst of it. Every time he tried, the room shifted. The conversation bent away, subtle at first, then obvious enough to feel intentional. Like they had all silently agreed that Harmony was a subject that didn’t exist anymore. Like speaking about her might summon something they didn’t want to face.

It was infuriating.

And telling.

His fingers curled slightly against the porch railing as frustration settled deep in his chest. Not sharp. Not explosive. Just steady and suffocating. Because it confirmed what he already suspected. Something had happened. Something big enough that an entire town decided silence was easier than truth. And somehow—he had been gone for all of it.

Last night had been proof enough.

He had stood in rooms filled with people who used to be part of his everyday life, listening to laughter that once would have pulled him in effortlessly… and all he could think about was the one person who wasn’t there.

He had hoped she might show. Even knowing it was a long shot. Even knowing he didn’t deserve it. But she hadn’t. And deep down, he knew why. She likely hated him. The thought didn’t come with denial. Didn’t come with justification. Just acceptance.

Because she would have every reason to.

He had left.

No explanation.

No warning.

Just… gone.

And whatever he had been to her before that—whatever they had built, whatever they had been on the edge of becoming—he had abandoned it like it meant nothing. Like she meant nothing. His throat tightened slightly at that, his gaze dropping for a moment before lifting again, stubbornly returning to the tree line like it might offer him something different this time.

It didn’t.

Inside, voices drifted through the open door behind him.

His parents.

Soft conversation over breakfast—dishes clinking faintly, the low murmur of familiar voices filling the house in a way that wrapped around him without effort. Normal. Warm. Uncomplicated.

A small smile tugged at his mouth despite everything.

He had missed this.

More than he realized.

The quiet mornings.

The ease of it.

The feeling of being somewhere that didn’t demand anything from him.

For a moment, it almost felt like he had never left.

Almost.

Because even here—even with everything exactly where it should be—something was missing.

Someone.

And no matter how much he tried to focus on what he had come back to… his mind kept pulling him right back to what he had lost. Axel’s gaze lingered on the trees a moment longer before he finally looked away, his jaw setting with quiet resolve beneath the weight of it all. He didn’t know what had happened. Didn’t know why no one would talk. Didn’t know if Harmony would even look at him if he stood in front of her.

But he knew one thing for certain.

Seven years was long enough.

And whatever silence had settled between them—he wasn’t going to let it stay that way.

Axel didn’t give himself too much time to think about it.

If he did, he knew exactly what would happen—he would talk himself out of it. Convince himself it wasn’t the right time, that he should wait, that showing up unannounced after seven years was a mistake waiting to happen.

So instead, he grabbed his keys.

The decision felt sudden, but the truth was, it had been building since the moment he stepped back into town. Since that moment, no one would say her name. Since the moment he realized avoiding her wasn’t going to make anything easier.

He needed to see her.

Even if it went badly.

Even if she shut the door in his face.

Even if she told him to leave and never come back.

At least then, it would be something.

The engine of his truck rumbled to life beneath him, familiar and steady, grounding in a way his thoughts were not. He pulled out of his parents’ driveway with no real plan beyond going. The roads came back to him easily, muscle memory guiding him through turns he hadn’t taken in years.

The closer he got, the more the doubt crept in.

This was insane.

Just driving out to her place like this—no warning, no call, no idea what he was even going to say when he got there. It felt impulsive. Reckless. Like he was about to walk straight into something he was not prepared to face.

What if she is married? With kids?

Or worse, married to his cousin, Hunter?

His grip tightened slightly on the wheel.

He kept going anyway.

When he turned onto her road, something in his chest shifted—tightening, anticipation mixing with something heavier, something closer to nerves than he wanted to admit. The house came into view slowly, familiar in shape even after all this time.

He hadn’t expected to pull in.

Hadn’t planned to.

Just drive by. That had been the idea.

Just see it. See if she was there. Ease himself into it.

But when he reached the driveway, he turned in.

The decision was almost unconscious, his body acting before his mind could argue.

Gravel crunched beneath his tires as the truck rolled forward—and then he saw him.

A man stood near a bright yellow bike, posture tense, movements sharp and agitated. His voice carried easily across the yard, loud, aggressive, cutting through the quiet morning. “Get out here and f*****g talk to me, Harmony!”

Axel’s brow furrowed instantly, confusion giving way to something darker as he slowed just enough to take in the scene. The man paced near the bike, running a hand through his blonde hair before turning back toward the house like he expected her to appear any second. Like he had a right to be there.

Axel’s jaw tightened.

His hand moved without thought, rolling the window down just enough to hear more clearly. The words repeated—louder this time, edged with frustration that bordered on anger.

That was enough.

The hesitation that had followed him all the way here—gone.

His foot pressed harder on the gas.

The truck surged forward, tires biting into gravel and slinging it back in a sharp spray as he closed the distance fast. The engine roared louder than necessary, deliberate, a warning in itself.

The man barely had time to react.

He turned just as the truck came to a hard stop only feet from the bike, stumbling back in surprise, nearly losing his footing as he scrambled to keep himself upright.

Axel didn’t wait.

The driver’s door flew open, slamming shut behind him with enough force to echo across the yard as he stepped out, already moving. Long strides ate up the distance quickly, his presence alone enough to shift the air between them.

“Who the f**k are you?!” the man demanded, still recovering, irritation flashing across his face as he straightened.

Axel didn’t answer immediately.

He didn’t need to.

At six-foot-seven, he already towered over him, his shadow falling heavy, his expression unreadable but anything but friendly. He reached up slowly, deliberately, pulling his sunglasses from his face and letting his gaze settle fully on the man in front of him.

Cold.

Measured.

Final.

“I think it’s time for you to leave.” His voice was not raised.

It didn’t need to be.

The man let out a short, disbelieving huff, brushing dust from his jeans as he tried to recover some sense of control. “You must be one of her newly hired bouncers,” he said, tone dripping with sarcasm. “That’s fine. I’m leaving.” He stepped closer to his bike, grabbing his helmet from the seat, but his eyes flicked back up, something sharper settling in them. “But I can assure you,” he added, voice lowering slightly, “she can’t pay you to guard her twenty-four hours a day.”

Axel’s gaze narrowed just a fraction. “I’d suggest you get on your bike,” he said, each word steady, deliberate, “and leave… before you leave walking.”

The silence that followed stretched just long enough to feel like a decision point.

The man held his stare for a second longer, jaw tight, like he was weighing whether or not this was worth pushing further.

Then—he scoffed.

Shook his head.

And made his choice.

He kicked the stand up with a sharp motion, swinging onto the bike and jamming the helmet on without another word. The engine roared to life, louder than necessary, aggressive in its own right.

A final rev—and then he tore out of the driveway, gravel spraying behind him in a cloud of dust as he disappeared down the road.

The sound lingered for a moment.

Then faded.