CHAPTER 12
AXLE
Want to know the definition of hell?
Waking up with a mostly naked girl right next to you for seven straight days, and refusing to fuck her, because you don’t know what her angle is.
Maya loves to sleep in just my damn T-shirt, even though we’ve already collected her clothes. In fact, her clothes have essentially taken over my room. I bought several damn temporary, pop-up closets to confine her multitude of things.
She’s invaded my bathroom, my room, my bed, and my motherfucking mind, and it took less than a week to accomplish all of the above.
The cover is pushed halfway down her waist, and the curve of her ivory, smooth ass is very visible, since she apparently approves of torturing me with her body. Naked underneath my shirt.
It’d be easy to push her up onto her knees and put myself out of my misery. Very fucking easy. Too fucking easy. Suspiciously easy.
Inwardly cursing her, I toss the covers off me and adjust myself in my boxers as I stand up and tug on some jeans. I spent an extra thirty minutes in the shower last night just to deal with the never-ending state of arousal I’m in.
But let’s face it, fucking her would be a mistake of epic proportions. No girl runs her eyes over my body like it’s the best thing she’s ever seen. In fact, no girl at all looks at me once my clothes are off.
I realize people think that chicks dig scars, but not on a scale as massive as this. I know that for a fact.
There’s usually immediate hesitation, then subtle grimaces—if they’re nice about it. Or there’s a request to turn off the lights if they decide to go through with it to become a good little club whore.
Never do they tell me they want me more when they see the full amount of disfigured marks—a more accurate depiction than simply calling it all scars. Never do they spend seven days trying to tempt me in every way possible.
So what does she want? What’s her angle?
I glance back, seeing Maya stir in the bed. It’s always like she knows the second I’m out of bed, because she wakes up within a few minutes. Hence the reason I’m rushing through the motions of getting dressed.
I’m trying to put space between us, but with no extra rooms available right now, she’s gotta stay with someone. And for whatever reason, I can’t stomach the idea of her climbing into someone else’s bed and trying to get into their head by using her body as a tempting distraction.
Annoyed and frustrated, I sling open the door a little harder than necessary the second I’m fully dressed, and I jog down the stairs to see Drake on his crutches. His cast has been downgraded to a brace now, and he’s getting along better since the car accident that almost killed him.
Drex is looking at a sketch of something, seeming lost in thought. Drake gives me a smirk when he sees me.
“They tell me you have a roller derby girl in your bed these days,” he quips, and I cast a bored look at Eve, considering she’s the one who tells Drake everything.
Their odd friendship doesn’t always sit well with Drex, but it’s a sibling thing with Eve and Drake. Anyone else can see that. Which means we’re stuck with Drake more than ever before.
Eve looks away, pretending the wall is fascinating, and I redirect my attention to Drake.
“Any word coming through your shop about the failed attack on us?” I ask in deflection.
Drake scoffs. “Since you lot moved me into the building across from you, I haven’t heard much of anything. It’s become clear I’ve chosen a side, and you fuckers are going to take me down with you, it seems.”
He groans as he hobbles over to a couch and takes a seat, putting his crutches next to him before continuing.
“I remember the good ol’ days after Drex’s cocksucker daisy. All I had to worry about was inking people.”
Drex glares over at Drake, who is grinning at him, and I drop to a chair next to Eve as she props up on the arm of it.
“Some of the guys who are coming in the shop are waiting to see what Drex is going to do. They’re not club members, though. They’re just nosy Halo residents who know what’s going on,” Eve tells me, frowning.
“Which means we’re drawing too much attention to ourselves,” I say on a long, frustrated breath.
“Herrin wants that,” Rush chimes in as he walks in with a bag thrown over his shoulder.
“Going somewhere?” I ask him.
“Back to the job I abandoned when I came back to help collect paying jobs. Apparently I fucked that up, so it’s best if I go do something I’m good at.”
I start to ask questions, when Drex adds, “Any one of us could have been fucked by that setup; not just you.” He looks over at Rush, who is tense. I didn’t realize this was still bothering the young blood.
“None of us thought our sources would be stupid enough to choose Herrin. Speaking of which, who’s handling them?” I ask, looking from Rush to Drex.
“Jude wanted a way to blow off steam, so he’s sending the message. Which is why he’s been missing for the past two days,” Drex tells us, even as he studies the paper in his hand again.
I haven’t been around too much, since I’ve been deliberately avoiding Maya until I have to crash in bed, so it’s not surprising that I’m out of the loop. But I need to get my head off her and back in the game.
“What’s the job?” Eve asks Rush.
It’s just us today. All the other guys are out at their day jobs or shaking down people from other charters to see which way they’re leaning. Maya sparked an idea with her tale of mastery. Instead of starting a war by outright killing Herrin, we’re going to fuck his world up until no one cares if he dies.
I’ve been handling some trouble-causing in that respect, so at least I haven’t been rendered completely useless. Mostly it’s planting the seed of doubt, turning Herrin into the worst thing there is: a rat.
“Rush is watching after my sister,” Drex says distractedly.
It goes so quiet that you can hear each breath being taken. Drex looks around, shrugging, and Rush turns and walks out. Drex never talks about his sister. Ever.
“You think Herrin is going to go after her? How could he find her after all this time?”
“I don’t doubt that he’s known where she was all along, and was saving her as a token piece to use against me. It’s best to think the worst and prepare for it right now,” Drex goes on. “Most of the club believes she’s dead, just like most outsiders. You’d think if people believed I killed my own sister, they’d be a little less eager to go against me. Curious how that isn’t the case, which leads me to believe Pop is up to something.”
His attention returns to that damn paper he’s been eyeing since I came down here.
We hear a bike roar to life as Rush leaves, and I glance up from the chair I’m on to where Eve is still sitting on the arm. She gives me a one-shoulder shrug in response.
“What’re you looking at?” I finally ask Drex.
“My design and name for your half of the club, since you can’t use Death Dealers anymore,” Drake answers, robbing Drex of the chance.
Drex rolls his eyes when I cock an eyebrow.
“He reworked the reaper so that we don’t have to deal with too many ink changes to our originals, for all of us who have the tats,” Drex tells me, handing me the paper.
When I see the name, I hold back a groan. It’s so obvious that it’s almost ridiculous.
“If they’re the Death Dealers and you want to face off against them, then it only seemed right to call yourself the Death Chasers,” Drake says, grinning over at me when I hold the paper up.
“I really like it,” Eve says, looking over at it. “And the name is apt. It’d send a statement to everyone. No fear and all that.”
Dash nods slowly, like he’s taking her words into consideration.
“She’s right,” he finally says on a long breath. “It’d definitely send a statement, and it’d cause a lot of hesitation to everyone out there willing to double cross us. Especially if you couple it with the massacre AJ left behind in our name.”
Fucking Death Chasers. Looks like the misfits have a new name.
“Should be simple enough to fix on the tats.”
“Simple?” Drex asks Drake skeptically.
“Simple for me, because I’m amazing,” Drake quips as he stands, tucking his crutches back under him. “Come, minion. We have calls to catch. Our appointment book is about to get hit,” he adds, winking over at Eve as she flips him off.
She hops off the arm of the chair I’m sitting in, and she goes up to her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to Drex’s lips.
I stand as well, and Dash walks over to me. Sledge joins us, coming from out of nowhere, his attention attuned to only me.
“My contacts in New York haven’t found out anything yet. But they said the heads of the Four Families are a mystery to anyone not high enough in power. We may just have to trust Sarah on this,” he tells me.
“Sarah has been out of the loop just long enough to miss this supposed power exchange. Three years ago she left New York. All of this alleged tale of betrayal and new heads could simply be a wild concoction from a girl we know nothing about,” I say quietly, looking over at Drex as he carries Eve out, her legs wrapped around his waist.
As much as I trust Sarah to not completely fuck us over, I don’t trust Maya not to have fooled her. It’s easy to see why she’d be convincing.
“It does sound crazy, but it almost sounds too crazy to be made up,” Sledge says as he glances up at my closed door. “Until we know for sure, keep your guard up.”
“And if it is true, you might want your guard up even more,” Dash drawls, studying me. For seven days, he’s given me that look. “Mafia girls are the craziest breed of all. Look at Sarah.”
He smirks, but I just turn and head back to the room to grab my guns.
“Get the down payment from her,” he calls to my back. “We’re going to need new cuts.”
I don’t acknowledge him as I take the stairs two at a time. When I walk into the bedroom, Maya whirls around, and my mouth dries.
Why is she in a fucking towel?
Groaning, I take in her dark, wet hair as it clings to her, and she cocks an eyebrow at me when I run my gaze over her from head to toe.
“You finally going to take me up on my offer?” she asks dryly.
I tilt my head, shutting the door behind me. I almost lock it. Almost.
Fucking girl.
“Not until I figure out your angle,” I answer honestly.
She rolls her eyes as she goes to pull open the curtain on her makeshift closet. “I have numerous angles. All of which you’d love. There’s one angle I’m particularly good at,” she goes on.
This is what I’ve dealt with. For seven fucking days.
It’s just after noon right now. It’s a long time before I crash in the bed beside her again, and it’s going to be harder to avoid her today, since I’m sure Drex will call a meeting/party to introduce the new name.
I can’t leave her alone with the others here today. Especially since some more of our charters have dropped their cuts and joined us after Herrin’s attempted—and failed—hit on us.
“You like your games, don’t you?” I ask in a bored tone, going to the dresser and pulling out my guns, putting them both in their holsters.
“No games. Just figure life’s too short to be subtle. Also, I usually always jump in with both feet when I want something. It’s called living. You should try it some time,” she deadpans.
She lets the towel fall away, and I lean back, against my dresser, watching her as she slips into her lacy underwear. Various tan lines wrap over each other, proving it’s a true tan.
I tell myself I’m only watching to prove to her I have control over myself. Again, I’ve been telling myself this for seven days.
Her perky breasts are just daring me to touch them. Nipples are peaked and ready, as though offering an invitation.
But I can watch without tossing her to the bed like I want to. I’ve watched her all week. Usually I got to leave for the rest of the day, but I’ve still watched her all week.
“I enjoy living, but you learn to be suspicious of someone when—”
“When they want to have sex with you?” she interrupts, turning around and putting her back to me. “That’s sad. Must be hard to get laid if you always sit around wondering what every girl wants from you.”
My jaw grinds as she bends over, showing me her ass through the skimpy shards of lace, as she pulls on a pair of shorts.
“What do you want, Maya?”
“Already told you what I want from the club and you. From the club, I want cars and a place to lie low while I conduct my operation. From you, I want orgasms. It’s that simple,” she answers without turning around. “But at this rate, I’ll just take the cars. I’m starting to see you as too much work. I really like being chased as opposed to always chasing.”
She spins around as she tugs a shirt into place. The damn shirt has a pink cupcake on it.
A pink fucking cupcake.
How can I take her seriously?
How can I believe she really runs a notorious bookie family?
“Yet you came down here completely alone, and you didn’t seem to have a clue about what you were doing,” I tell her instead of commenting on that other part.
She rolls her eyes as she starts brushing her wet hair, sitting down on the edge of my bed.
“I’m not going through this again, Axle. You know why I came alone, and yeah, I’m a novice at how to discreetly take down an ex-Family head in a town where I know no one. I was going to take a few months to get it all sorted, take in the lay of the land, and make some new friends who could hook me up with the right people. But Lathan jumped me when he found me much sooner than I imagined. It sped up my need for protection, hence the reason I begged that night.”
She looks over at me as she puts her brush down and picks her towel back up, squeezing it around the long, dark strands.
“Either start asking some new questions, or at least get some fresh material to reword the old ones,” she goes on.
I check my phone. Again. Sarah hasn’t been answering any of my calls or texts to explain this situation to me.
Putting my useless phone away, I lean back, measuring the girl in front of me.
“Something feels off about you,” I finally tell her.
“I wore roller skates in the middle of a slaughterhouse. Totally get that off-putting vibe of yours,” she says as though she’s amused.
Her phone dings on the bed, and she looks down, reading whatever preview is on the screen. I expect her to ask for privacy, but she just redirects her attention to me.
“Last chance, Axle. Do you want me or not? It’ll be the last time I ask, because I’m through chasing. Hot as you are, I’m not into wasting time on guys who aren’t interested. Girl has to have some self-respect, you know.”
I snort derisively, rolling my eyes.
She arches an eyebrow. “I do hardcore Kegel exercises. My pussy is a ninja,” she says seriously, waiting for me to respond.
I…hell, all I can do is blink. Half the time I wonder if she even knows what she’s saying. It’s like she goes for shock factor and wins time after time with me, because I’ve never met anyone like her.
“I’ll see you tonight. There will be a party,” I say in deflection, trying not to think of her ninja pussy she’s offering.
She looks away like she’s disappointed, and starts putting on lotion. I blow out a breath while leaving the damn room.
Drex is back downstairs, talking to Sledge about tonight’s party that I knew was coming. Maya stays upstairs as I get a rundown on what Drex needs from me.
Leaving the warehouse, I head to our strip club with Dash, and he goes to start telling guys about tonight’s festivities. Liza—Sledge’s old lady—pushes a beer in front of me when she sees me at the bar.
“Looks like you need a drink,” she tells me with a straight face.
My phone starts ringing before I can respond, and I immediately start walking out when I see who’s calling.
“About damn time you called me back,” I growl into the phone.
“It’s hard to be discreet when you’re blowing up my phone like a stage five clinger. I had to turn it off, because believe it or not, you’re not my top priority,” Sarah volleys.
My free hand fists as I step to the side of the building, barely hearing the steady thump of the music inside.
“I’ve been calling and texting because—”
“I know. I’ve heard all the numerous messages and read all the texts. I just haven’t had time to respond. Besides, Drex seemed to be cool with Maya. Not sure why you’re the one wanting to rip this all to shreds when she’s very possibly the only thing that will save the entire club. And the only reason she’s doing it so willingly is because she has a thing for you and owes me a huge favor.”
My eyebrows go up.
“Sarah, I swear—”
“I’ve known the heads of the Families for a long damn time, even though they never knew me. I knew their children. I knew when they took over the Families. My father was naïve and arrogant, thinking he could destroy them by killing the heads. Instead, he turned loose a bunch of brilliant psychos who all want him dead for killing their parents.”
She exhales heavily like she’s exhausted.
“The point is, Maya is legit. Lathan is a serious threat if he finds out she’s still in Halo. And her plan could go to hell in a handbasket if she doesn’t manage to keep a low profile. Keep her alive, and she’ll return the favor. And be nice. She never asked for this. She’s doing what she has to, and be thankful she gives a damn about stopping a war.”
Running a hand through my hair, I watch as a few guys walk into the club, their eyes shifting to me. I make it my business to know everyone affiliated with us, so it’s no surprise that I recognize them.
Nodding, they head in, and I return my attention to my conversation.
“Something is off about her.”
Sarah outright laughs. Hard.
I’m not amused.
“Of course there is,” she says when her laughter tapers off. “She’s twenty-four and is currently running a notorious crime syndicate from the shadows. People get PTSD when they see someone die. People like Maya and I grew up watching both people we knew and total strangers die all the time. It’s a way of life for us. You don’t come out of a family like hers without being a little off. I’d be more concerned if you thought she was perfectly normal.”
Sometimes, I’d like to throttle her. This is one of those times.
When I grow silent, she groans.
“She’s legit, Axle. You know I wouldn’t risk Jude. And I know Maya is telling the truth. I still have friends inside the circles of the Four Families. Very high-up friends. Finding her was like finding the Holy Grail. Count your blessings, because sometimes, life sends you something good to make up for all the bad shit you’ve dealt with.”
“Axle, what the hell?” Dash’s voice has me glancing toward the entrance where he’s holding his hands up.
“I’ll be back in a sec,” I tell him as he flips me off and heads back in. Then I speak to Sarah. “You ever gonna tell me what went down between you and your Pops?” I ask her.
“You ever gonna tell me where you got all those scars?” she quips.
My jaw grinds, and she takes my silence as my answer.
“Didn’t think so. Take care of Maya. I’ll be back soon with a present; then I’ll take her off your hands again.”
With that, she hangs up, and I pocket my phone while resting my head against the building. What happened to the days when we just drove for hours on open stretches of highway and built some fucking cars? The days where we sometimes kicked a little ass and maybe blew a few holes in people?
I miss those damn days.
Fucking mafia bullshit and girls in roller skates didn’t play a part in those days.