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Axle's Brand (Death Chasers MC Series #3) by C.M. Owens (13)

 

CHAPTER 15

 

MAYA

 

My eyes do a quick sweep of Drake. Lean. Sexy. Witty. And very easygoing.

He’s not a pretty boy, but he looks more like a lover than a fighter. And fighters turn me on more than lovers.

Heh. Maybe that’s my problem.

Terrible taste in men.

Before I can turn down his random offer, the door swings open, and Drake jerks in his seat as I squeal and leap to my feet. I’m running on instinct when I race for the back room, but a strong arm sweeps around my middle, ripping me off the ground as Axle ends my hiding time and slams me against his body. I spin around, facing him as I take in his angry features.

My hands grip the black fabric of his shirt as I glare up at him, but his attention is focused on Drake.

I hope I didn’t just get Drake into trouble.

I turn and look over my shoulder to see an amused smile on Drake’s lips, which has me relaxing, since he doesn’t seem concerned. Drake is half the body mass of that beast Axle took down with one punch earlier. It might break him.

Even though he’s not too much leaner than Axle, he’s not as mean. You can see that without needing insight into the world I’ve grown up in. Like I said, more lover than fighter, that one.

“Wouldn’t hurt a guy on crutches, would you?” Drake asks, gesturing to the crutches beside him.

Axle points a finger at him. “Don’t fuck with this one. She’s not Eve. She’s not some sweet girl mixed up in bad shit. Whatever she told you, you need to forget it. Fast. Because her secrets will get you killed if people link you to her.”

Obviously Axle thinks I just run my mouth to everyone I meet.

Drake’s smile wanes before falling, and I wink at him. “Bet you’re glad I didn’t tell you my secrets now, huh?”

He looks at me like I’ve sprouted a second head. “Fucking hell, woman. You’d better not get me killed,” he finally says around a long exhale.

“Nah. I’ll make sure you live if the time comes for survival measures,” I assure him, which has his eyebrows going up in confusion.

Axle seems to relax a little now that he knows I’m not affected by verbal diarrhea, but that arm stays firmly fixed around my waist. His gaze sweeps down to my face as his eyes narrow.

“The hell were you thinking?” he snaps.

I open my mouth to call him a few less than charitable names, when Drake butts in.

“She was thinking you’re a cunt tease,” Drake says dryly.

I glare over my shoulder to see him sketching again, no expression on his face.

Rolling my eyes, I look up at Axle once more, and find him arching an eyebrow at me in question.

“I think you’re a disrespecting prick who likes to make me feel like an idiot when the mood strikes. I also think you enjoy toying with me, though I don’t know what purpose it serves other than to be an asshole. That’s what I was thinking, because I don’t need this right now.”

Axle flicks his gaze to Drake as a small chuckle follows that little rant. Axle’s obviously not the one chuckling.

“She’s feisty. I like that. Most girls just wither and shiver in your presence. Not sure why your cock is on a mission to avoid the pretty kitty.” Drake should never try to write poetry.

Instead of saying anything, Axle releases me suddenly, and just as quickly, he bends and I’m airborne. A surprised squeal bubbles out of me when I realize I’m folded over the barbarian’s shoulder, and he turns and walks out, careful not to bash my head on anything as he moves through the doorway.

“Nice chat. Stop by any time,” Drake says as I steady myself on Axle’s shoulder by gripping his back.

I blow a strip of hair out of my face and glare at Drake as the cheeky dick grins at me.

Axle leaves the door open, and he walks us quickly across the narrow street to go inside the clubhouse, where the party is still raging on. As soon as we walk in, howls and whistles erupt.

I expect him to put me down, but he jogs up the stairs instead, as I bobble helplessly on his shoulder. He doesn’t put me down until we’re in the bedroom, and instead of gently standing me on my feet, the bastard drops me to the bed.

A grunt pops out of me when I hit, and I keep my eyes in angry mode as I stay put.

Does he seriously look amused right now?

Oh, I take it back; I’ve never held any interest in being the brute force of my family’s operation, but I’d totally blow out a couple of kneecaps right now.

“Tonight’s party was to keep the guys happy, keep them excited to have chosen our side. It’s a very fragile time for us right now, because if we lose too many, we deal with Herrin and an army on our own,” he says suddenly, cocking his head as he studies me.

My lips purse as confusion settles in, pushing anger to the corner at the moment. I stare at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

“We’re broke. Herrin took everything. It’s going to take a while to figure out which guys are double agents and which ones are truly loyal to us.”

He moves to the dresser, leaning against it as I sit up and pull my knees to my chest.

“Our sources are compromised, making the vetting process much harder for fear of an ambush with a job. Everything is in disarray right now. We’ve decided on a name, and when we get the cuts in, that will change the game a little. The second you put on that sovereign show of unity and pledge yourself to a brotherhood, the consequences for playing both sides suddenly doubles. It feels like twice the betrayal.”

“You’re explaining why tonight was important. Not why you treated me like a piece of dog shit that was stuck to your shoe.”

The bastard smiles. This is what makes him smile?

Oh, but it’s a damn good smile. One that transforms his entire face.

“Because,” he says as he wipes the smile away, “you just showed up a week ago. If I treated you too good, people would assume I’m whipped or weak. And as I said, this is a fragile time for us. No weakness allowed.”

“I don’t see Drex treating Eve like dog shit, and he’s the president, right?”

He moves toward the bed, and I shuffle back. When he grabs my ankle, I don’t fight. When he jerks me down the bed, I don’t fight. And when he spreads my legs so he can come down on top of me, I let him.

He braces his weight with his elbows on either side of my head as he stares down at me. The soft fabric of his shirt tickles the insides of my thighs, making me all too aware of how intimate this is.

I’m not sure why my breaths are so shaky. It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve been in this position with a guy.

His gaze flicks to my lips, and his thumb starts to trace the outline of my mouth. I force my body to remain still and not to succumb.

“Eve has earned her place and her right to respect from the club. That’s a long story, but it took time. You’re the new girl. As far as everyone is concerned, you’re just some hot girl I brought in as mine. They can’t know who you really are to know why you get immediate respect. And as I said, anything else would be considered weakness.”

He stops tracing my lips, and his hand falls away as his gaze comes back up to my eyes.

“They’d be hard-pressed to believe your story anyway. Even if we did trust them all enough to tell them,” he adds like a sucker punch.

I shove at his chest, and he rolls off me, cocking that damn eyebrow of his again as he stands back up.

I jerk the covers back, shuffle out of my shorts, and grab a pillow to put in the middle of the bed. “Don’t worry, Axle. I don’t need you or anyone else to believe my story, and I no longer want to have fun while I’m here.”

His face blanks, giving nothing away, and I let him watch—as usual—as I get undressed and pull on one of his shirts that I had already picked out. For the first time since the first night, I leave my panties on.

It’s not like that will stop anything, but it’s a statement more than anything.

“I just explained—”

I cut my eyes toward him. “You just explained why you treated me like a gnat that needed swatting. Got it. But you still act like I need to keep justifying my intentions. And I don’t have time for that. It’s me who should be concerned with this club’s intentions. I’m going on blind faith in Sarah that this is a good idea…the best place to take cover while I work from the shadows—”

“I haven’t seen you work yet,” he interrupts with narrowed eyes.

I grab my phone and toss it to him. He catches it with one hand, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me.

“Feel free to read all the messages. They’re mostly in code, but I’m sure a smart criminal like you can read between the lines. Now go. I need sleep. It’s been a shitty night, and I need to speak with Drex about getting out of here first thing tomorrow.”

He has the audacity to look pissed. “There hasn’t been any word from anyone about girls getting—”

I sit straight up and interrupt him this time. “There won’t be talk about containers of slave girls getting stolen from the original thieves who stole them first,” I state flatly. “You guys are a lot of bells and whistles—muscle and fireworks. But my kind operate on a level that inspires stealth and pure silence. We own senators. We own governors. We own more than you could know, which affords us a certain amount of leniency. Even a war would go mostly undetected by anyone not caught in the crosshairs. It’s why I was shocked that Lathan found me so early on. It’s why I had to rush around for protection. It’s also why I couldn’t bring down any of my men to start working the jobs. The Families have a leak. One in a lot of power. One who told Lathan I was here.”

“Smitty,” he says immediately.

“It’s not Smitty,” I grind out.

“How can you be sure?” he fires back.

I look around. “You have rats too, right?” I ask rhetorically, since he just stated as much. He doesn’t bother answering that. “Is it Drex?”

His lips tighten, and I can see immediately I’ve pissed him off.

“That’s how I know. Smitty was my father’s friend like Drex is yours. Smitty refuses to take the business, though I’ve offered it to him multiple times. Because he wants me to honor my father’s wishes and continue on as the head, even though he still runs the business but doesn’t take the title—the title is everything. That’s why I know Smitty is not the leak. It’s too dangerous for him to be the head, anyway, and it’s his job if I’m dead. Besides, he knows I’m still here, and Lathan has guys tearing up New York in search of me because he thinks I ran home.”

I turn over, jerking the covers up over my shoulders as I stare at the wall.

“Everything we planned had to be changed, and if it hadn’t been for Sarah, I’d have been screwed and the entire plan would have gone to hell. A war would have been started. So I adapted. I adjusted. Something you do when lives depend on your actions,” I go on.

I blow out a frustrated breath, before continuing.

“Not that you guys understand that. You’re all brute power and no finesse. You can’t win a war with soldiers. You win a war with the right offensive plan. Otherwise, you just suffer a lot of casualties with no end in sight for when the bloodshed stops.”

I hear him moving through the room, and I close my eyes. “Don’t cross that pillow. It stays between us.”

“Your feelings got hurt and now you’re isolating yourself from us. That’s it? This temper tantrum is going to get you killed if you try to walk out of here and lie low without help,” he says with an edge of annoyance.

I keep my eyes shut.

“It’s not a temper tantrum. And your inability to trust is going to get you killed quicker than trusting too easily. I’ve told you everything. You’ve told me nothing.”

“I told you about the weak state of our club, and—”

You’ve told me nothing I didn’t already know from Sarah. You explained it better, but you didn’t share anything new. Because you’re incapable of it. I just didn’t realize that until tonight.”

Because I’m a fool who thinks everyone is like me—ready to live while air is still in their lungs.

I feel him vibrating with fury because I’m using the same dismissive attitude he dealt me earlier. Then he snaps. “I just explained why I couldn’t look weak. You’re letting your fucking feelings—”

I jackknife into the seated position, my eyes flying open. “Weak? You think you’ll look weak? I get that, Axle; I really do. That argument is over. We’re onto the part where you still question my every move, and I can’t afford the time it takes to deal with something like that.”

“You can’t afford the time,” he says slowly, that edge still in his tone. “You fall into our laps with this ludicrous story, but everything you say shows how disorganized you are, while you claim to run an organized crime syndicate.”

Taking a deep breath, I clutch the comforter with both fists to keep from punching the arrogant idiot.

“I couldn’t grieve my parents the night I found out they died. None of us could. We all had to immediately step into our roles and pretend as though we were cold and callous to stop anyone from seeing how weak the loss had left us. We all had a part to play to stop chaos before it started. We couldn’t let Phillip win by giving in to our grief and losing our power. Don’t tell me about not looking weak. I get it all too well.”

My voice starts to crack, but I clear my throat and press on.

“I wasn’t ready. I’m still not ready. None of us are. But we have to pretend like we are, otherwise, someone else will step in, and who knows what will happen then. If Phillip is in charge, it’ll be like the early years of the mafia all over again, and trust me when I say that will only benefit him. He’d have more control over the U.S. than the Cartels have over Mexico.”

You know what? I’m sick of defending myself and exposing all my weaknesses to a man who tells me nothing.

“Go away. I’m tired. This day has sucked, and I’m ready for tomorrow.”

I drop to the bed again and screw my eyes shut as I jerk the covers back over my shoulders once more. My body tenses when I hear him moving toward me. A thump has me tempted to open my eyes, but I’m too stubborn to give in.

I track the sound of his retreating footsteps that sound like he’s moving toward the door, and I listen to the telling click that assures me he just left.

My eyes open to look at the table beside me, and I see my phone. He couldn’t have read the messages, and I’m not sure if that means he’s finally hearing me, or if it simply means he doesn’t want to trust me.

Instead of analyzing it, I close my eyes and pretend to sleep, even though I know I won’t fall asleep until he’s beside me in bed. Since the explosion, I haven’t slept; I’ve only crashed.

I’ll stay awake for days until my body demands I sleep, and I collapse from exhaustion. It’s how I’ve operated. It’s the only way I could operate.

Then I came here, and sleep…happened. The nightmares still come, but they’re not as bad. Not as painful. The false security could be the effect of having a guy like Axle so close.

Guess I’ll find out.