Axe took her hard and fast. He wasn’t sure why exactly, but the way she said the word ‘please’ drove him over the edge. He jerked his hips up into a frenzy until the pace of his strokes were too fast to track as he came.
Angel collapsed on his chest, breathing almost as heavily as he did, but then again, she had done most of the work this time around. He took his time catching his breath, waiting for whenever she was ready to pull apart from him. That didn’t happen. Her breathing eased and slowed down, and a few minutes later, his eyes shut for the night.
12
Angel
Angel hummed to herself while drying off from her shower. She was still blissful after what she and Axe had just done together in that motel bed. Was it possible to sleep in it after such indulgence? A shiver ran down her spine at the memory. What they had done was close to vanilla sex by her usual tastes, yet it was more intense than anything she’d ever felt with another man.
Of course, none of it meant anything, really. Well, except for the undisputable fact that they were compatible in bed. That’s where the similarities between them ended. She glanced over at him, slipping on an oversized t-shirt. Just because they’d slept together on this bed didn’t mean she was going naked underneath those dingy sheets. Putting bare knees and hands on top of them was bad enough. Even having to wear this god-awful t-shirt pissed her off. Out of everything Axe had shoved into her backpack, it was the only item of clothing that came close to working as sleepwear.
Presumptuous bastard.
She looked on as Axe got up, dug through his little satchel bag, and retrieved a pack of cigarettes. It was a nasty habit, but she could only say that because she had just kicked the addiction six months ago with the help of the patch. Dammit, she could judge him and envy him at the same time. Angel rolled her eyes at herself, turning away to put her hair into a high bun. No way was she bumming a smoke off of him.
“Hey, want a smoke?” Axe asked.
“Uh, sure.”
Dammit. She couldn’t say no to the man. Angel looked down at the spot on her arm where the patch used to be. “Actually, I’ll pass for now, but thanks for the offer.”
“Cool. I’ll be outside,” he announced, raising the pack of cigarettes in one hand and his cell phone in the other. “I’ll give you a little peace and quiet for a bit.”
For a goofball and a sarcastic asshole, he sure had his considerate moments. He was way sweeter than she’d ever given him credit for. She would be lying if she didn’t admit that it was jarring as hell.
The door clicked shut, and she crawled into the bed, grabbing the TV remote from the night table. Maybe she could see which of the five channels this dinky place had that were actually working right. Midway through her channel surfing Axe’s voice grew loud enough to hear pieces of his conversation through the door. She muted the TV, still absently watching the images as she focused on what she could pick up from the other side of the door. The sounds were all jumbled together, but the urgent tone was evident. Assuming it was in her best interest to know what was going down, she slid off the bed and headed over to the door. She didn’t need to press her ear against the peeling paint. Every word was crystal clear
“…it’s not like that, bro. Stop putting words in my mouth—”
Whatever he said must have been cut off on the other end. Axe made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, seeming to make an effort to get whoever was on the other line to stop talking long enough to hear him out.
“Just because I’m staying in the room with her doesn’t mean I’m going to wife up, bro. Get your head on straight. She’s not my old lady. I’m fucking working here.” Axe’s voice grew louder with each syllable until the last word hit her ear.
Angel balled her hands into fists, trying to hold it together. She was the one in the wrong for eavesdropping, but still, every cell in her body was ready to throw open the door, tackle him to the ground, and put him in a chokehold. Not that he deserved that much effort. What the hell was wrong with her in the first place that she even let him in? She was the idiot, practically allowing him to own her just now when the truth was they were nothing to each other.
Angel grunted and headed back to bed. She didn’t need to hear anything else. He had made his point loud and clear, enough that she almost kicked herself for being so gullible. Her core was still throbbing, aching for him to be inside of her again, while Axe was out there pointing out the obvious—that she was nothing but another gig to him. This was yet another reason that casual sex was not worth the hassle. She had been way more intimate with him than just an occasional thing. Angel physically winced at her hypocrisy. She may not have verbalized her feelings, but she had sure as hell dismissed him early on.
The creak of the door opening abruptly made Angel jump.
“Hey. I’ve got to run a quick errand with the bike,” Axe said gruffly from outside, hand still wrapped around the doorknob. “Don’t open the door for anyone. I’ll be back soon.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Christ.
Being stuck in this room only made it worse. All the overanalyzing was getting to her, and now, Axe was rushing off to God knows where with no explanation. All she wanted now was to see her mom, to return to her safe and predictable librarian job, and to be back with her dogs. How she missed their cold noses and sharp little barks. Even their unique quirks were adorable now. If she had to hunker down and hide for more than a day or two, she’d have to get someone to take her pets to her parents.
Axe’s bike roared to life and rumbled out of the hotel parking lot. Letting out a long sigh, Angel ran a hand through her hair and stretched out in bed. Basic cable had to have less drama going on than what was storming around in her head.
13
Axe
Was this night ever going to end? Axe hung up the phone after a second call that involved way too much negotiating with Silas. His prez was already calling him whipped for running off and shirking his day job in favor of protecting Angel. Sure, Silas slowed his roll when Axe mentioned the slip of paper with Axe’s and Angel’s name on it, the panther pricks, and the part about dodging bullets. Still there was way too much haggling to call the man off the ‘you’re on the run because she must be your true mate’ ledge. During the first phone call, Silas had also made Axe give his word that he would store his baby somewhere safe and figure out another ride out of town. No clubhouse and no bike? Fuck, deciding to go into hiding was turning into a serious sacrifice.
Axe took it all in stride. Things could have been worse. For example, it was purely coincidence that the diner was a few hundred feet from a gas station, and it just so happened that the owner had an old crappy rust bucket of a minivan for sale for four hundred dollars. The vehicle was a shitbox, but the engine was in decent shape, so he bought it on the spot, promising to set up the insurance and ownership the next day. After that purchase, he only had to drive his bike a mile up the desolate backroads behind the diner before he noticed an abandoned farmhouse tucked away from the roads. It was a risk leaving his baby here, but hell, it was a better bet driving the minivan than motoring along on a ride that screamed Beartooth Brotherhood. His walk back to the gas station was quiet enough, so overall, an extra hour to keep unwanted attention away from them was not too big a cost.
Now that he was back at the door of the motel, he could relax. Cracking the kinks out of his neck, he lit up and took a slow drag on his cigarette. He let the smoke infuse his lungs for a good while before exhaling through his nostrils. Maybe it was time to get back inside and crash for the night. Axe finished off his cancer stick and braced himself. Angel should have been sleeping by now, but with the TV on, his guess was that she was waiting up for him. It wouldn’t surprise him much. Who could possibly sleep on the first night their life got turned upside down in five seconds flat?
He took a deep breath, half-choking on the leftover nicotine in his lungs. Shoving the key in the lock, he twisted the doorknob and tentatively stepped inside. A
ngel was in the middle of the bed propped up by both pillows. She shot him a cold glance before returning her gaze to the TV.
“Hey. All good in here?”
“Just awesome,” she answered, not bothering to look at him.
He kicked off his shoes and lined it up with hers near the door. “You must be exhausted.”
“Getting there.”
He walked over to the foot of the bed and took a seat, staring idly at what looked like a late-night infomercial. “I’m pretty much ready to turn in,” he told her.
“Knock yourself out.” He only noticed the reflection of a pillow missile in the TV screen. It flew out of Angel’s hand, and he couldn’t react in time. It hit him right in the back of his head.
“You’re still feeling playful this time of night?” he asked, reaching down to the floor to pick up the less than fluffy projectile.
Angel was staring right at him when he sat up and pivoted around to look her in the eye. No, not staring. It was more like glowering mixed in with what he imagined intent to kill would look like on a woman’s face.
“What the hell does it matter to you? Just because you’re staying in the room with my doesn’t mean you’re going to wife up, bro. Get your head on straight. I’m not your old lady. You’re fucking working here.” She turned her killer stare to the TV screen. “Trust me, I got the point loud and clear.”
Oh.
Okay, that didn’t go over well, hearing Angel flip the script and pretty much repeat exactly what he had told Silas a while ago.
Axe ran his hands through his hair and blew out an inaudible breath. “You weren’t supposed to hear that conversation.”
She gave him a fake smile. “Well too late, because I did. So grab that pillow and knock yourself out on that couch while you fucking work.”
“Shit. Come on. You’re taking things way out of context.”
She did not give him an answer.
It was too late at night and he had done too much already. “Big fucking deal. So you heard me. I said some shit. Yeah, I’m a guy. We say dumb shit sometimes. What else?”
Angel’s eyes remained glued to the TV. “Have a good rest.”
“And what the hell did you expect me to tell my boss? That I’ve run away with a woman I just met who could be my old lady one day? Like you’d ever sign up for anything other than a few late night booty calls with a low down biker gang member. Give me some fucking credit.”
Suddenly, being here with this icy energy in the room only helped to box him in and make him feel trapped. Sleeping indoors was not a good idea.
“I’ll be outside. Thanks for the pillow.”
“Axe, wait,” she blurted out when his feet were back in his boots and his hand was on the door, ready to make his exit.
“What?” he barked, not releasing the door handle.
Next thing, she’d be crying after this shit show. He only had himself to blame for getting too close, and way too fast. They both needed a reality check.
Angel turned off the TV. “You’re right,” she said in a whisper. “I deserved that. I’ve not been kind or accepting of you, or even grateful to you for your help. For that, I apologize. And the truth is I’m not looking for a relationship with anyone right now, so you have every right to say what you did to your boss.”
At least she was honest. “Exactly.”
She looked up at him. “But no one, yourself included, would want to overhear the person they just slept with hours ago, having a conversation like that.”
Axe nodded and took a seat on the sofa, dropping the pillow beside him. “True. I agree. That was not okay.”
“All right.”
He watched all the anger physically drain out of her. She placed her pillow flat on the bed and stretched out on one side, turning her back to him.
Axe took this silence as progress. Removing his shoes, he swung his tired legs over the side of the couch and relaxed his head on the pillow.
Blood.
There was so much blood.
All over the walls, his toys, and sticky on his fingers where he’d touched the stair railings. Nancy still whimpered upstairs in the corner. She was deafening compared to the silence around them, the silence that came with death.
Whatever happened, he knew with a weird, warped clarity that there was no coming back.
At first, his vision couldn’t make out what he saw in the living room. Like a puzzle, it was too much to put together in his head, too complicated—but the second it started to make sense he leaned over the banister and puked onto the floor. It was as if his whole stomach had turned inside out on him. A burning sensation went all the way up into his lungs, like trying to hold lava in his throat while it ate away at his insides second by second. He forced himself look back again at their living room that was distorted with red streaks, puddles, and drips.
He knew there was no way they could have survived.
Not in so many pieces scattered around the room.
Where was Vincent? Why wasn’t he covering his eyes as he had done during this tragedy? Why was Nancy still at the top of the stairs when Vincent had lifted her up and carried her outside to his car? Why was this nightmare continuing to change? His stomach gave another hard lurch, fingers going tingly and numb. He ignored it all and stepped forward into the living room. On autopilot, he navigated through the squishy carpet and leaned over the hand with his mother’s wedding ring still gleaming as if nothing had ever happened. He watched as his fingers reached out to the touch the stone—
“Axe.” The echoing female voice called to him from a distance. “Wake up. I need you to get up for me now, Axe!”
Axe jolted up into a seated position on the sofa. For a heartbeat, the world blurred. He blinked, rubbing his eyes to force the nightmare back, but still saw his parents’ bodies sprawled across the motel room floor. His insides were burning again. A pounding headache behind his eyes that felt like someone was jabbing tiny needles deep inside his brain. He ran a hand down his face. Blood was on it too. He tried to ignore the shaking and the cold sweats dotting down his spine, but then a foreign hand pressed into the back of his neck.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” Axe roared, jerking back from this new female player with the blurred out face, trespassing into his waking dream as if she meant to shoot him too. His hands flew up defensively and gripped her hard around the neck. “I didn’t fucking say you could touch me! Who sent you?”
Her eyes damned near bulged out of her head, and he could feel her pulse pounding under his hands as she tried to say something. Right now, he didn’t give a fuck what made her shake like a leaf, or that she wasn’t actually armed, given her hands gripped his fingers as she tried to get him to release her neck. And why was she calling his name Axe? No one used that name that night. The memories in his brain started to teeter like a seesaw. They layered over what was around him, but seemed real enough to force him to act.
As this intruder’s body started to go limp, and as her hands dropped to her side, the threat of imminent death faded, as did the waking dream. That was when Angel’s face came back into focus.
Fuck.
Angel.
He hurriedly released her neck and helped her to sit and catch her breath. “God. I didn’t know it was you…you just…” he tried to say something to explain as Angel held her neck and fought to suck in air. The fear in her eyes etched into his brain. He had almost killed her because of this fucking flashback. If he had ended up transforming to his bear while he slept—which had happened before—she would have been dead right now. There was nothing he could say to make this right. Bolting up to his feet, he got her a bottle of water.
“Are you okay? I can get you to a hospital if you’re hurt. Christ, I’m so sorry.”
If she were okay, he would get the fuck outside and let her be so this couldn’t happen again. He swallowed the frog-sized lump in his throat, hoping he had not done too much damaged. He had never had to go through this shared accommodations deal before
tonight. Even back in foster care, they had been careful to place him with smaller families to he could have a room to himself. Now, she would finally see him as the broken, bruised, and damaged beyond repair individual that he really was.
“I’m fine,” Angel choked out after gulping down the entire bottle of water. “Please. Just sit.”
Fuck, he barely recognized her voice. The guilt clawed at his chest. He had hurt her. He had given her that choke mark, now layered over the bite on her neck. It was all kind of sick, fucked up, and twisted now. It wasn’t a surprise to him that his bear wanted to escape this human jail cell and run as far as it could go. Goddamn it, she wasn’t supposed to see him like this—ever.
“No,” he snarled, backing away to the door. “Just tell me you’re fine so I can stay in the van. You’re not safe around me…not while I sleep.”
He watched her visibly swallow.
“You’re safer in here than out there,” she rasped out. “After hollering and growling loud enough for people to hear you three states over, the cops are probably outside looking for a bear already. I’ve been trying to wake you for over ten minutes. We’re supposed to be laying low, remember?” Angel stood up from the couch and stepped closer to him, meeting his eyes. She pointed at her neck. “This wasn’t personal. It’s not your fault. Look, you don’t scare me, okay? Sit.”
Axe blinked at her a couple of times. The muscles in his legs started to twinge and ache from exhaustion as she took one more step toward him and offered her hand. Why wasn’t she listening to him?
“Stay back,” he warned her. “What do you not understand about it not being safe for me to stay in here with you?”
“What I understand is that you had a bad dream. You don’t need to be alone right now, Axe. Sit. Please.”
“No.”
“So help me God, I’m not going to let you go out there. You went through something pretty traumatic. How could it be any more dangerous than what those panthers had in store for me earlier? So I’ve seen your little secret. And I can add it to the fact that you’re a bear shifter. I know you have nightmares, and I now understand why you wanted to sleep outside from the get go. Yes, you were about ready to rip my throat out. You didn’t. I’m over it. I’ve just got four words for you. Long-term PTSD counseling. Works like a charm. Anyhow, I’m going back to bed, but if you step out that door, I’ll just follow you out there. Or I’ll pack my things and find another way to handle those people after me—without you.”
Bruised MC Bear (Beartooth Brotherhood MC Book 3) Page 8
