Cabin of Axes - Bea Paige Page 0,39
cage with anxiety under their intense scrutiny. “Right now I can feel my hand pressing against my rib cage. I can feel the heat radiating from my palm into my chest and my heart beating rapidly. This is real and these memories are real.” When the three men look at me like I’ve lost my mind, I press on. “Look at what happened earlier. I know I’m a nurse, and today I’ve proven that. I also know we’ve met before, had sex before. I feel the connection. It’s deep, raw, sensual, scary, and incredibly intense. I don’t remember anything other than those feelings, these specific memories, but I know I’m right. You have to trust me on this.”
“So how do you explain us not knowing who you are?” Franklin asks.
We exchange looks and I see it. There’s a flash of something in his gaze that only confirms my thoughts. He’s not only hiding something from me, but from Berrin and Mathieson too. I don’t understand why, but I’m hoping he’ll tell us.
“See, here’s the thing, Franklin,” I begin, and the tension in the room rises at the tone of my voice. “Berrin has no recollection of us. None. I’d thought maybe when we had sex, something would click into place, it didn’t, though I enjoyed it immensely and don’t regret it in the slightest.” I glance at Berrin and give him a half-smile. He just looks at me with bewilderment. “Mathieson has no conscious memory, but twice he’s reacted to me in a way that makes me think that deep down in his subconscious he recognises who I am. Both times I was crying. My tears triggered him. I’m right, aren’t I?” I whisper, looking directly at Mathieson now. He blanches, his face paling.
“I…” he begins, then shakes his head as though trying to think straight. “I think, maybe, you’re right. How the fuck is that possible?” he glances between me and Berrin, before resting his gaze on Franklin. “Franklin?” he questions, and by the tone of his voice and the sharpness of Mathieson’s gaze, I know he’s reading something in Franklin’s eyes just the same as I am.
For a beat we all just look at him and there’s an intense kind of silence that stretches out for a painfully long time. Then, just when I’m about to prompt him further, Franklin stands, strides over, grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet. My heart stutters in my chest at the look on his face, a mixture of anger, fear, concern, and lust. I know that look. I’ve seen it before.
“Follow me, all of you,” he grinds out before pulling me along behind him.
The four of us stand in front of their store, Cabin of Axes. My bare feet, ankles, and the bottom of Berrin’s joggers are covered in mud from trudging across the drive barefoot. By the time I’d registered that I didn’t have any shoes on it was too late to head back inside to clean up and find suitable footwear. Berrin had offered to carry me, but Franklin kind of made this growly noise and lifted me into his arms, only to drop me back onto my feet the second we were at the door of the studio.
“You want answers, then follow me,” Franklin grinds out, pushing open the door.
Behind me Mathieson and Berrin step into the cabin, but there’s no further explanation, Franklin simply pulls me through the space and towards a door at the back of the studio. We walk past enchanting statues of fairies with flowers in their hair, forest animals going about their business and goblins peeking out behind thick tree stumps with mischievous looks on their faces. Everywhere I look, there are incredibly detailed statues, all of which take my breath away. A family of foxes sit on the floor, the parents sitting side by side watching their cubs tumbling through bracken. There’s a lone wolf with its teeth bared and its eyes narrowed, staring at a hooded figure of a little girl that looks exactly how I’d imagine Little Red Riding Hood to look. On a wooden shelf sits a squirrel nibbling on an acorn, its intelligent eyes focusing on an owl that has its mouth open and its head tipped back in mid hoot. There are statues of the seven dwarfs from Snow White all carrying pickaxes. It’s a wonderland of enchantment. Captivating and magical.
“These are incredible,” I hush out, my eyes wide.
“These are, yes…” Franklin bites back. He’s