by C. M. Owens
This is the girl who I can’t get out of my head.
Not sure when or how this happened.
When we finish up and leave the hotel gym, she hops on my back and takes another selfie when she reaches out in front of us. She grins against my neck as I carry her, not even questioning her anymore.
A few eyebrows rise as I step onto the elevator with a selfie-taking fiend still on my back.
She giggles against me when I purposely act like I’m about to drop her.
She doesn’t seem to notice when I tighten my hold directly after, needing her to keep her arms around me the way she is. She’s like a fucking drug.
And I must be a motherfucking junkie.
Because I can’t get her out of my system and I’m constantly taking my next hit.
Only with Maya, just breathing her in is like a damn good hit.
CHAPTER 23
MAYA
“The progress is slow. Currently we’re nothing more than an irritation in their side, but it is progress,” I tell the other Families who have me on conference call.
“We knew it wasn’t a fast game,” Ingrid tells me.
I always feel relieved when they’re not upset with the turtle-like speed of this plan.
“You have the wheels in motion, so we’re confident that at this time you should be able to return home and oversee the rest from here,” Ingrid goes on.
I could have easily returned home already, but I don’t point that out.
We’ve come so far from the kids who joked about vajazzling moments before we watched our parents die.
“And the next time they kill off all of our retrieval team, I’d have to return. It’s not easy finding guys with the skills required to pull this off, especially now that Phillip is onto the attack plan. We’re having to space out retrieval hits so the security doesn’t get too intense on his end.”
I have a hundred or more names I’m still going through for the next-in-line team members. No doubt others will be picked off. And we’re looking for people with the skills, and people who’d have a reason to never turn on us. Like for instance, their sister was taken and sold by Phillip, or he killed someone they cared for…that sort of thing. Or they simply hate the Cartels and are good with hitting them through a proxy like Phillip.
“You want to stay there?” Ezekiel asks like he’s confused. “Why?”
“Because it’s not so bad, and it’s easier to oversee things from the ground level. And we agreed that it needed to be one of us to oversee it to cut out the risk of leaks, so there’s no one else I’d feel comfortable leaving in my place.”
I hear a sigh, and I know it’s Ingrid. She wants me home to help her deal with the crazy level right now. Because she doesn’t have a Smitty like I do who can run the Family and never miss a beat in my absence.
“You’re at risk of being seen or captured every day you’re there for longer than planned.”
“I have a plan for that. Just had a salon girl leave my room, and I’m a whole new girl. But also, I have a very strong security setup. No one will look for me here, and I’m staying bunked down—not going into public unless necessary.”
“Yes, your MC that’s not technically a MC. Motorcycle clubs usually have cuts and charters. These guys are the rebels who broke off from the pack and think they can just start anew if they slap a name on a piece of leather,” Ingrid says, annoyed. “I don’t feel like they’re a long-term solution for you to stay secure. This was a temporary deployment to begin with, and the unstable club doesn’t instill confidence in its abilities to keep you safe. Besides, it sounds like they have their own war brewing, which is an unnecessary risk for you.”
I check the door, making sure it’s still shut, before I slowly stand from my seat.
“This is my plan. You put your trust in me to make it work. If I’m not here, then we run the risk of it going to hell. This club has ears to the ground, and they can hear things here that we can’t hear there. You know how this works. I need to stay close to the action to ensure this wasn’t all for nothing. My life is expendable, and we all agreed on that.”
Ezekiel curses. “Your life may be professionally expendable, but not personally. Don’t you feel as though we’ve all suffered enough loss? Staying there puts you at graver risk daily—”
“Lathan is looking for me in New York. He’s not looking for me here,” I remind him.
It’s enough to shut him up. Well, for a second. Ezekiel always has a backup argument at the ready.
“If they see you, they’ll know it’s us and not someone who is after the Cartels. It could ruin the entire plan.”
“But that’s where you’re wrong, Ezekiel. If Lathan sees me, he’ll grab me and try his shit all over again. His problem with me is personal, and he’ll likely believe my presence in Halo is solely related to him. Phillip doesn’t think us capable of something this elaborate, so he’ll think the same thing. I’m the only safe option to be here.”
The door opens, and I look over as Axle walks in. His eyes widen when he sees my new hair, and I twirl a lock of blonde while winking at him. He starts moving toward me again, but pauses when he hears the phone on speaker and Ezekiel speaking.
“You know I hate this.” Ezekiel sighs. “I want you back here. We’re stronger together.”
Axle, I swear, looks a little jealous all of the sudden, since he’s hearing that out of context.
I like that look. It lets me know I’m not the only crazy one here.
It’s been two weeks since we got back from the hotel.
In those two weeks, we’ve barely spent a second apart. And I get the private Axle every day the door closes us off from the rest of the world.
“I’m aware, but rest assured that I’m safe where I am,” I say, watching as Axle glares at the phone. “We are stronger together, but I’m not gone. I’m just in a different state.”
“We’ll call in two days to see how the next retrieval went. You’re logging the progress, I assume, and counting how many girls we’ve freed?” Ingrid asks.
Axle’s angry expression changes, and he looks up at me, his face going blank. He starts to turn and leave, as though he just realized what this is, but I move in front of the door, blocking his escape.
I’m almost done, and he’s been missing most of the day, which is something I’ve not had to deal with in two weeks. Today is the day I get my cars. Finally.
He runs his fingers through my newly dyed-blonde hair, eyeing it like he doesn’t know what to think about it.
“Yes. And the costs are about to go down, along with some of the risks. I’m deploying the new vehicles in two days. It’ll speed up the overall process of getting the girls home,” I go on.
“We hope,” Ezekiel adds. “Don’t get too excited until it proves its worth.”
Axle flips the phone the bird, and I bite back a laugh.
“Two days,” Ingrid says again.
“Until then,” I say, moving past Axle and to the phone, ending the call.
When I turn around, Axle has his arms crossed over his chest. “You ready to see what you spent a small fortune on?”
I nod, trying to play it cool, but desperate to see what they’ve been working on all this time. Understandably, I’m not allowed in their secret work space, so I haven’t even gotten to peek at the progress as it’s happened.
“But first tell me what you think,” I say, twirling and fluffing my hair like I’m in a shampoo commercial.
“I think it’s really blonde and I don’t know why you did it.”
I arch an eyebrow at him. “Because I’m less obvious with blonde hair, since I’ve had dark hair my entire life. It’ll be a little harder for Lathan to notice me if I’m out for any reason. It’s really nice to tell a girl ‘it’s pretty’ when she asks for your opinion.”
His lips twitch. “Blonde looks good on you,” he finally concedes, and I glide over to where he is.
He tugs me to him, and then opens the door. It’s hard t
o think when he’s pressed against me, but he releases me and we start walking out.
“They want you back in New York?” he asks quietly, probably deciphering that conversation now.
“Of course. But I’m not going back just yet.”
He nods slowly. “But you will be going back.”
I’m not sure if he’s asking me or telling me, to be honest.
“My physical presence in New York would be good on occasion, but it’s not a mandatory or even a necessary thing. Ezekiel and Ingrid are just worried and tired. It’s been a rough couple of years on us.”
We reach the bottom of the stairs, and I frown when he doesn’t move his gaze to mine or touch me.
“Ezekiel and you close?” he asks.
Totally jealous, and that makes me smile like a fool. “Not like that. Like I said, we all grew up together, with the exception of Sarah, so there’s a true familial bond there. Our parents wanted that bond forged early, so when we one day would have to take over, we’d look out for each other. As I’ve mentioned before, we’re not monsters. We’re just warped versions of normal people.”
He still doesn’t look at me, and he pockets his hands, which tells me he has no intentions of touching me.
“If you stay here, then you’re tucked away, out of sight, all day, every day.”
I say nothing to that, because I feel like I know where he’s going with this.
He continues, his eyes still averting mine. “If you go home, you can be out and about with your life.”
“No, I’d be dead. Lathan is scouring New York for me. Or he has men scouring New York for me.”
“What if he tells them your identity?” he asks me, his eyes finally meeting mine.
There’s something there—concern, maybe.
“Can’t. I think I’ve already told you he has as much to lose from that confession as I do. The Families have a large number of enemies. If he outs me as Blackbird, then he outs his own affiliation, if anyone even believed him. Same for Jenkins. He’d rather not have that hell rain down for him. That alone would be a death sentence from the powerful enemies our Families collected over the years.”
His lips tighten as he looks ahead.
“What’s going on in your head?” I ask him as we move toward the second garage they keep locked.
“Trying to figure out what’s best for you, but also wondering if I’m just being selfish for wanting to keep you here,” he confesses.
My grin grows involuntarily, and I stop walking. He realizes I’m not following him and turns to face me, his brow pinching like he’s confused. Happens a lot around me.
“What?”
“Sounds like you might actually like me, Axle. Must be the blowjobs I’ve been giving.”
He rolls his eyes. “If I didn’t like you, you wouldn’t be in my bed.”
I move to his side, wondering how much freedom I have with his body. Usually I’m careful to always let him initiate physical contact. Even though he’s never acted bothered by my touch since we started having sex, Sarah’s warning is always in the back of my mind, and I try to respect his needs.
When my hands open on his chest and slide up to the back of his neck, he simply watches me, not tensing or acting as though my touch is unwanted.
“You like me for more than sex,” I add, grinning at him even as he stares at me blandly.
What I expect is for him to say nothing to confirm or deny, but instead, he says, “As I said, if I didn’t, you wouldn’t be in my bed. I don’t need my bed for sex.”
I cock my head, riding the high. “That’s dangerously close to sounding like a declaration of love from you.”
This time, he does turn and walk away without saying anything, as that annoyed look takes over his expression. I laugh to myself as he punches in the code to the door.
“I’m not sure why you seem surprised that I like you for more than sex,” he says quietly.
“Mostly because you’re still a mystery, which makes me feel like you don’t trust me with your secrets. It’s mostly me telling you about me, and you telling me nothing in return.”
His hand pauses on the doorknob, and he glances over his shoulder at me. “I don’t tell anyone my secrets.”
“You told Drex,” I remind him, since he told me that in the beginning.
“Drex and I met in juvie, and he was in the same group therapy session I was in. And he had my back in that place, so I had his and kept him from getting killed. He overheard what was said in group when they basically told me to start talking or I wasn’t getting out until I was eighteen.” He shrugs. “He kept his mouth shut about it, and I came to live here.”
He gestures around the warehouse.
“Now it feels like I live here again, since going home hasn’t been safe in a while,” he adds.
“Why were you in juvie?” I ask curiously.
“My foster home had a prick kid five years older than me, who slammed me against the wall. It was one of those times I didn’t want to be touched,” he tells me with a cold smile. “By the time they were able to pull me off him, he was unconscious.”
“Why did—”
“Enough twenty questions, Maya. We’re here to look at what you paid for, remember?” he asks, interrupting me.
“Why does it feel like you told me something and nothing at the same time?” I volley, crossing my arms over my chest as I grin up at him.
Frustrated—with me—he pushes open the door, and I follow him into the garage. When I see all my party vans, I move to the first one, and Axle opens the door, letting me inside.
Quickly, he shows me the numerous hidden compartments, all of which don’t knock hollow and have secret levers to open and close them. He breaks down the x-ray blocker—not that they’ll have that, but I like his preparation—and the body heat hiders for me.
I listen to him be…really fucking genius as he explains all this. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve known he’s clever, but this is brilliance at its finest.
And seriously hot.
When he’s finished, he moves me around to the other fifteen, though I’m only halfway inspecting them, since I know they’re up to par. Axle wouldn’t leave me with something that would screw me over.
He has too much integrity for that.
Yes, even criminals have integrity.
I lean against the back of a van, cocking my head as we finish up, and Axle explains what’s next.
“We’ll drop these off at the drop point, and leave the code for the doors on the burner phone number you gave us. They can pick them up with a list of instructions that explains every detail,” he says to me.
“So do you really like the blonde, or were you just telling me what I wanted to hear?” I ask him.
He rolls his eyes, something he’s done a lot around me. And only at me, I’ve noticed.
“We’re discussing the vehic—”
“We’ve been discussing them for two hours. I know what happens next. It’s the third time you’ve walked me through it, and I know you’ll handle it without fail. It’s business, and you handle your business. What I want to discuss is if you like the blonde. Because I almost went red.”
“It’s your hair,” he states dryly.
“I don’t have to see it unless I look in the mirror, but you have to deal with it all the time.”
It always makes me smile more the more exasperated he gets with me.
“I like the blonde, but I’ll have to fuck you facing me for a while. It’ll confuse me if I’m behind you and think I’m fucking someone else.” He says this with a straight face. Yep.
“No wonder you brood so much,” I say on a sigh, causing him to tilt his head in confusion. “You really are terrible at making jokes.”
A small rumble of laughter leaves him, and he presses against me, kissing me as I lean into the back of the van. The obnoxious motors roaring outside are the only things that break up our moment.
Axle steps back, taking my hand in his.
&nbs
p; “Party is about to start. You just put us back in business with your large order,” he says, smirking at me. “So, tonight is a celebration.”
“I’d rather just celebrate with you.” I start walking toward the door, but he tugs my hand, pulling me back to him as he kisses me again, backing me against the wall.
I smile against his lips as he lifts me up, dropping my ass on a steel table before stepping between my legs.
He shoves my skirt up and jerks my panties down. I lift up, letting him work the annoying underwear down, and they drop to my ankles. I’m vaguely aware of them falling off as he runs his thumb over—
“Yo—whoa. My bad,” someone says, causing Axle to jerk my skirt down as he turns a glare in the direction of the voice.
I clear my throat, glancing over as well to see Dash staring at the ceiling, a big-ass grin on his face.
“I guess that means she likes the merchandise,” the dick says.
“Fucking comedian,” Axle says dryly, bending to pick my panties up and shove them into his pocket.
I’d sort of like to have those on again, but I’d rather not discuss that at this exact moment.
I hop off the counter, and Axle laces his fingers with mine, pulling me with him as we head toward the door. Dash laughs as Axle shoves him aside, and we walk into the throngs of people who weren’t here when we went into the garage.
Cases upon cases of beer are getting stocked in the long row of glass-door coolers behind the bar. And liquor bottles are loading the shelves, guys opening boxes full of them.
Glad to see their priorities are in order.
“You gonna get inked?” Dash asks me.
I open my mouth to speak, but Axle beats me to it. “I’m not Drex, and I’m not putting my name on her body.”
I arch an eyebrow as a slow grin curves Dash’s lips.
“Then you need to make it known she’s with you to every-damn-body. Drex had a hell of a time with Eve.”
Axle doesn’t seem bothered. “Herrin’s crew was here then. They’re not now. These guys are assholes, but they won’t cross that line.”
He looks at me like he’s reassuring me, but I remember the dipshit he had to punch after he got too insistent. I decide to stick close to him all night just in case.
