Playing Heart Games

Boss Level 70: Accept It

AXEL

"You two against us," dad said. His hands were on the hips of his baseball uniform, a wide grin on his face. "The eight year olds against the parents."

The field mom and dad had rented for the afternoon stretched out around us. The air was filled with the scent of freshly mowed grass, and the smell of a distant barbecue.

Mom beamed. Her baseball uniform matched ours. "We won't let you win."

"As if you can beat us," I scoffed. "We're going to crush you guys." I nudged Asher. "Right Ash?"

Asher grinned. "Yeah."

Dad laughed. "Okay—let's make a deal. You win, and I'll buy you ice cream."

"Axel!"

I frowned, glancing back, searching for the source of the voice.

There was no one there. All I saw was the field, green grass gleaming in the sun, trees in the distance. Their leaves trembled in the breeze.

"Axe?" Asher squinted at me. "Are you okay?"

I nodded, trying to focus. "Yeah, let's play—"

"Axel!"

I glanced back again. Still nothing. But that voice...why did I recognise it?

I turned back to the others. "Did you hear that?"

Their images shivered, like a video on an ancient television.

Mom tucked a strand of her hair back. "Axel, are you okay?"

"Axel!"

I knew that voice.

It hit me like lightning. "That's Violet—"

My eyes snapped open.

Violet's face hovered over mine. She was crying. Relief tore through her features. "Axel," she croaked.

My brows furrowed. "Curls?" I slurred. "What are you doing here?"

"We need to—" she started coughing.

And it all came back. The smoke, the heat, the weight on my back. The house is burning down.

"You need to leave," I rushed out.

It was like she hadn't heard me. "Can you move?" she asked. "We need to move the beam—"

"Violet," I snapped. "Get the hell out."

The house released a loud groan, and my throat constricted. Panic roared through my veins. The building was going to come down any second now. And Violet—

She wrapped her hands around the beam. "I'm going to try to lift the beam, okay? I need you to slide out—"

"Violet! You need to leave!"

Another rumble tore through the house. My heart was beating too fast. No, no, no—

"Violet!"

"I am not leaving you!"

I froze. I'd never heard her yell like that before.

"I am not leaving you," she repeated, glaring at me. "So, get with the programme already."

I blinked. It was probably inappropriate to think about how hot she looked right now. More out of shock than anything, I nodded.

She strained, pulling at the beam.

It took me only a second to realise she wouldn't be able to lift it. Not on her own. It took another second to notice that my body wouldn't move to help, no matter how much I wanted it to. My limbs had been replaced with weights.

I couldn't feel any pain though. Probably a bad sign.

I'm going to die here.

The world sunk into darkness, then blinked back on. My vision blurred at the edges.

I was so bloody tired.

"Curls," I slurred. Words had become difficult to grasp, vanishing before I could form them. I could barely think now, let alone speak. "You...need to go."

She couldn't stay here. I wouldn't let her die.

She kept straining at the beam. "Stop it."

The world rippled, like I was underwater. A sound came out of my throat. I think it was supposed to be a laugh. The room blended into a mesh of black and red. "You don't get it Curls," I croaked. She needed to see sense, she needed to understand. "I'm the anti-hero."

She didn't respond. I couldn't see her face anymore—my sight was too blurry.

What a sucky way too die. The least I could get was to see her face one last time.

The least I could do was make sure she lived.

"I'm supposed to die."

I doubted anyone would be surprised. They'd probably expected this. I was Axel Ryder. The bad twin. Reynard's most infamous screw-up. And, according to my father, pretty damn—

"Stop it!"

My eyes focused. Violet was glaring down at me.

"You are not the anti-hero, and you are not supposed to die! This isn't a f**king game, Axel! This is your life, and I'm so tired of you treating it like s***!"

And then, with a loud groan, she lifted the beam. My eyes widened.

Veins pulsed along her neck. "Come on!"

Move, you idiot.

It took every ounce of my energy, but I forced my arms to drag me forward. The world dimmed with each movement. Pain slammed through my skull, returning with a vengeance.

Just one more inch—

I was clear.

Violet released the beam. It slammed into the ground. The entire house shook.

Violet grabbed my arm, yanking it over her shoulder. I groaned as she pulled me to my feet. Then she was racing to the door, dragging me with her. My legs were moving, stumbling forward, but I could barely feel them.

We staggered outside, the sunlight scorching my eyes, but she kept running, away from the house. The toes of my shoes hit gravel. We collapsed on the ground.

I patted Violet's arm—at least, I thought it was her arm. The world was a blur of colours, everything in the wrong place.

"Are you okay?" I said. My voice was muted, overpowered by the ringing in my ears.

Before she could respond, a thunderous crash tore through the air. The painting house collapsed into rubble and flames.

I stared at the destruction, my eyes wide.

A few more seconds and that would have been us.

I said something, but I couldn't hear my own words.

I coughed into my hand, then stared at my palm. It blurred at first—then stabilized.

Blood.

"Violet?"

My lips twitched. I wasn't sure if I would have smiled, because the world vanished.

*

"You did it!"

Dad swept me up. He spun me around, my legs swinging in the air. I laughed so hard that I thought my lungs would burst.

Mom ran across the field, beaming. "The twins win!"

Asher jumped, pumping his fists. "Victory is ours!"

Dad put me down, ruffling my hair. "I'm so proud of you, kid." His grin widened. "Now why don't we get some ice cream?"