"Just show it to me, doll."
My hand feels heavy as I pull the folded up picture from my pocket, unclicking my seatbelt with the other. I drop the polaroid into Axl's outstretched palm, hesitant.
His eyes practically go dark, his brow furrowing as his jaw clenches.
"No fucking way."
"That's what I said."
"Oh my god," Axl laughs in disbelief, clutching the photograph in both his hands. "I'll fucking kill him."
"Axl," My eyes scan all the people walking past the Camaro in this McDonald's parking lot, terrified that they might be able to hear Axl's threat. "Please-"
"I will, Chas." Axl closes his large fist around the picture, the sound of it creasing and crumbling audible. He looks at me. "This the last time he disrespects you, you hear me?"
I don't quite realize that he's waiting for me to reply until there's an uncomfortable silence in the car, my heart pounding in fear. And not for me, but for Dylan.
"Yes."
"I'm gonna take care of it. So don't you worry, alright?"
"Okay," I nod. I don't challenge him, I won't. Not when he's got that crazy look in his eyes.
I've seen it before. The day I met him and he yelled at that kid for messing with Michelle and I.
My eyes close the second Axl rests a hand on my hair, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of my head. Almost like he could like me too, as absurd as that is.
He's covering his own back, because he knows what could happen to him if this gets out, Chas. A picture of him kissing you is life ruining. You could ruin his life.
I already have.
I feel awful as I think it, but I know it's true.
I'm the one who pulls away first, slowly, but still first. Thinking about the possibility of Dylan Reynolds being here right now, taking more pictures of us. Maybe from behind the bushes near the sidewalk, or inside the fast food joint, even. I tell myself to be rational, before I really become paranoid.
Axl gives me a smile, completely unaware of how heartbroken it makes me feel. Still, I smile back.
I try not to let my eyes water any more than they already are as I get out of Axl's car, ready to help him figure out the huge order of food we're about to place.
This must be one of the only McDonald's in this part of Los Angeles, it's so busy. A pop song plays loud over the speakers once we walk inside, and there's kids and adults in nearly every booth, talking loudly. Even some teenagers, with it being afterschool on a Thursday.
I can't help but notice an older couple a few places ahead of us in line eyeing Axl's silver rings and his ripped Sunset Tattoo T-shirt. I'm sure his hair doesn't help either. It's getting longer than normal now.
I love it. But I'll never tell him that.
This might be L.A., but everyone knows that guys that look like him belong on The Strip. Today, we're a little bit too close to Beverly Hills for him to get by without stares.
I'm trying to figure out just what it is that I want off the menu when I notice that the same husband and wife are now looking at me. The woman's brown eyes are practically boring into my soul, and for a moment, she kind of looks like my mother. Big hair, manicured nails, a shiny wedding ring, tan skin.
