by C. M. Owens
“You love me,” he goes on, not trying to argue the truth. He knows me too well to think a lie will swim the shark-infested waters and make it to me.
The video evidence of him speaking to my brother, telling him everything about the meeting my father never should have trusted him with…it’s all there. Plain as day. On a camera he never knew existed.
“I don’t,” I state honestly, a cruel smile on my lips. “You weren’t quite that good, sweetie. Though you did try. All I want to know is where my brother is. Where Phillip is. It’ll be a swift and merciful death if you’re just honest.”
His cheeks puff up, his face turns red, and the anger he normally contains so well appears.
“Fuck. You,” he bites out.
I slide to a halt, lowering my face to where his is. My guys keep him on his knees, the barrel of the gun still firmly pressed against his temple.
“You did fuck me. Then you fucked me over.” I straighten, skating backwards again as my music gets turned up louder. “Now I’m going to return the favor.”
I cut my eyes to Smitty as Thomas raises a protest, telling me I’m not capable of this. Swearing to me he knows me better.
He’s entirely too wrong.
And Blackbird will be twice as fierce when the word gets out that a cold-hearted bitch in a gold mask and roller skates is running the crew. One so cold she killed the man she cared for. They’ll possibly even assume I loved him.
“Kill the others. They shouldn’t even know who I am,” I say to Smitty.
His lips twitch as he nods, vengeance driving him as it drives me.
“And him?” Smitty asks, pointing at Thomas who glares at me, still thinking he knows me too well.
“He knows something. Don’t kill him until you’ve made him talk,” I say sweetly, watching as the blood drains from Thomas’s face. I feel…nothing. I felt more when I came in than I feel now.
“As you wish, Blackbird,” Smitty says, a dark smile on his face. “It’ll be my pleasure.”
“I never fell in love. That’s the difference between our stories,” I tell Sledge, looking back at him as I shake out of the memories. “When I saw the video proof that I’d been a pawn and I’d been played, I was ready for war. Something inside me was broken in that instant. I watched my father’s oldest friend collapse and bawl like a child the night before. He sobbed as hard as I did. We sobbed together behind closed doors so that no one would see us as weak. The next day, we became monsters. Can you be a monster where Liza is concerned?” I ask him.
His lips thin, and he slowly nods. “Drex has stood by me, always respected me, and always trusted me. Same for the other boys you’ve gotten to know. Liza didn’t just betray me; she betrayed them, too. It’s not just for me that I need to do this. It’s for everyone I care about.”
“But you were together for so long,” I say softly.
My parents’ bond was unshakeable. It was the thing I strived for. Now it seems almost like a unicorn—nonexistent.
“Time doesn’t make something realer. It’s either real or it’s not,” Sledge says on a breath. “The way Drex and Eve are? Liza and I have never been like that. Hell, I envy the kid for having that. And he would have killed you on the spot for suggesting Eve was part of it, even if it was blatantly obvious she was suspect. Though you’d never have to worry about that, because Eve would rather die than ever hurt Drex. The second he fell for her—that’s when our lives changed. That’s when he saw his Pop for who he really was. The right person makes you stronger. The wrong person forever drags you down, making you weaker. Liza made me weaker. I already feel stronger just knowing it’s my turn,” he answers.
Understanding what he’s saying, I just stare at him.
He leans back, his eyes still on me.
“So you had them executed and him tortured to death. Did you know all the others?”
I nod hesitantly. “We’d been with Phillip for a long time. But too many of his guys knew me, as well as the other Family kids. They all needed to die, and they died quickly simply because I wanted it over. Troy, Smitty’s eldest son, was the executioner that day. He had tears in his eyes, and was ready for bloodshed. You don’t realize how close we are with our loyalist families. My parents were like Smitty’s siblings and Troy is like my adopted brother. Smitty’s very young daughters are my goddaughters, and therefore my chosen heirs, should I not have children of my own. Smitty gave Troy all of the quick executions, while he took Thomas below to torture him for days, dragging out all the information he could.”
We sit in silence for a few minutes, letting the heaviness of the conversation settle between us.
“What happens with you and Axle now? I’m prying by asking, but how serious are things between you two? Obviously things have gotten severely stickier here. We’re not able to protect ourselves at this moment, let alone someone as important as you are. What’s keeping you here? Sarah? Or do you actually care about him? Because I know he cares about you. I never thought I’d see him care for anyone the way he does you.”
My heart does an embarrassing little happy dance in my chest upon hearing that.
My sexy brooder was supposed to be a fun time with a guy too loyal, strong, and jaded to be anything like the snake Thomas was. And so much stronger than the other two men who died just for being too nosy, finding out things they shouldn’t have learned, and trying to use it against me when their ambition hit them hard.
My father had no tolerance for that.
Our enemies were too great to risk my name because of idiots who saw an opportunity.
I’m sick of opportunists.
Axle was like a reprieve from everything. Far enough away to know everything, but smart enough not to get too close, and strong enough not to be so weak as to see an opportunity with my name.
Then I went and caught an unexpected case of the feels. The strong feels, too. The kind I never thought I’d be capable of. And I vomited up that confession like an idiot teenager.
A confession he’s yet to acknowledge. And since then, he’s acted weird.
“He’s right.” Axle’s voice is like a cold bucket of water pouring over my head.
Sledge’s gaze flicks over my shoulder, eyes widening marginally, and I turn my head to see Axle leaning against the wall—mostly out of sight as he eavesdrops. No telling how long he’s been standing there and listening to our conversation.
He pushes away from the wall and closes the distance between us, coming to prop up on the kitchen island.
“We’re not the ideal protection for you right now. We’ve scattered, and we’re in self-preservation mode. Everything is chaotic. Shit is hitting the fan. And the war is just getting started. We don’t even know who is trustworthy in our crew,” Axle goes on, his jaw ticking. “You’re not safe here. It’s just a matter of time before you pique Herrin’s interest. It’s not like it’d be hard for him to get to you right now, with so much going on as a distraction. He could have grabbed you the other day if he’d known your value. If he learns who you are, he could easily team up with Phillip, using you as a bargaining chip. And together, they’d wipe us out completely.”
In other words, it’s dangerous as fuck to be together.
“I’m putting your life at risk by keeping you here, since I can’t trust everyone around us or offer you the protection you need,” Axle says softly, clearing his throat. “And you’re putting all of us at risk by staying.”
The worst part about it is that I know how right he is. I also know how selfish wanting to stay, despite the risks, sounds.
Sledge stands, leaving us alone to talk, probably feeling a little awkward for witnessing even this much.
“So you’re saying you want me to leave?” I ask quietly, the tremor in my voice betraying my attempt to sound impervious.
He’s a blank, expressionless man before me, concealing all his thoughts with such an ease that makes me twice as envious. My poker face only works on people I don’t care about.
; “I’m saying it’s the safest for everyone. We have our own war. You have yours. Our styles keep clashing, and it’s only a matter of time before it ends badly for everyone. I’m saying it’s the smartest move.” He blows out a breath and clears his throat. “Doesn’t really matter what I want.”
His eyes are down. His hands are in his pockets.
I remember the first time I saw him; his inky black hair, his scars, his scathing pale eyes that didn’t know whether to kill me or dismiss me. Dark angel was the description I used.
It’s still apt.
I reach for my phone, digging it out of my pocket, as Axle’s eyes come back up to meet mine.
Saying it doesn’t hurt to hear him be pragmatic would be a lie. Petty as it is, I wanted him to tell me he wanted me to stay, that we’d face the risks together.
Deep down, I know it’s just a matter of time before we get ourselves and everyone else killed.
Feeling the weight of his gaze on me, I stare at my phone, clicking on “White Knight” in my contacts. My vision is blurred by unshed tears, so I don’t look back at Axle as I make the call, since a text won’t work right now.
“Please tell me it’s time for pickup. That’s the only reason you’d be calling instead of texting, unless there’s someone you need taken care of,” Smitty drawls, bypassing common pleasantries.
“Yes,” I say in a rasp tone, then clear my throat. “Time for a pickup.”
“You okay, kiddo?” Smitty asks seriously. “Give me the word if you are.”
“Lathaniel,” I say tightly.
He blows out a breath of relief, and I look up to see Axle frowning at me.
“Text me the coordinates. I’ll have a team pick you up. I’m just glad you’re finally coming home,” Smitty goes on.
I feel like I can’t speak. For whatever reason, there’s a huge knot in my throat. Then again, I guess it’s not whatever reason. It’s about 6’4, lean, and staring directly at me—that’s the reason for the emotion.
But I’m an expert at faking strength. It’s just been a while since I felt weak enough to have to fake it.
“Will do,” I say to Smitty, hanging up before he can ask me questions.
As soon as I put my phone down, Axle asks, “Lathaniel?”
“My father’s name,” I answer on autopilot. “It’s my safe word to Smitty that lets him know I’m not being held at gunpoint or something. Precautions and all that. It’s required.”
His glaze flicks over my face, then his eyes meet mine again. “And the word that tells him you’re at gunpoint?”
I smile weakly. “Blackbird. It’s the only word I could squeeze in that wouldn’t be an obvious panic word. When I speak over the phone, I refer to my family as Bluebird instead of Blackbird. Again, protocol.”
He nods, both of us talking about anything but the giant elephant in the room.
“If you’ll send in more vehicles, we’ll redo all of the interior work again. Obviously free of charge,” he says so matter-of-factly.
Things between us have been an array of things, but this is the first time it’s been uncomfortable.
Deciding not to slip into formal bullshit chitchat, I pull up my GPS, looking at everything that’s around, and isolate one place that will work. Then I send Smitty the coordinates of the extraction point—that is pretty much in the middle of the desert.
He texts back immediately.
SMITTY: Five hours. Be ready.
“What does it say?” Axle asks, his voice a little raw.
“They’ll be picking me up in five hours. I should probably conference in the other three Families and let them know I’m coming home. Then, if you don’t mind, someone will have to give me a ride.”
Standing, I put my phone back in the pocket of my shorts, and I move toward the bedroom, batting away a few fallen tears. As soon as I’m inside, I lean against the door, trying my damnedest to hold myself together.
But the tears keep coming.
My chest feels like a building is pressing down on it.
Every swallow is painful.
Every breath is hard to catch.
Trying to pull myself together, I move to the bathroom sink and start splashing water on my face and the back of my neck.
I can see him again. It’s not like this has to be it. Our individual wars will be over eventually. Calling is perfectly acceptable, even if Axle doesn’t like talking on the phone very much.
There’s also video chat, right? I mean, it’s not asking too much for a criminal biker who is currently dodging constant, life-threatening attacks to find time to video chat.
After toweling off my face, I look back at the mirror, and jump a little, because Axle is also in the mirror with me.
Confused, I turn around, and almost immediately, his hands are in my hair, and his lips are on mine, kissing me like it’s paramount above all else. Kissing me like it’s the last time.
Kissing me like it’s goodbye.
Damn it. More tears.
So, this is it?
He lifts me, and I wrap my arms around his neck while winding my legs around his waist, and he carries me out of the bathroom, devouring me the entire time.
The second he has me on the bed, I help him push my shorts off, then tear my shirt over my head. He leans back, stripping his shirt off, then comes back down to me.
With one hand, he undoes my bra, and everything slows down.
“Five hours,” he says roughly.
Since my words are completely pointless, I nod, feeling a few more tears slip out with the motion.
Tossing my bra to the side, he leans down, and my back arches as his mouth closes over a nipple, sucking it. Whimpers…moans…I give him all the sounds, not holding anything back.
My fingers twist and grip his head, pushing him lower. Smart guy that he is, he takes the hint, pushing my panties down and not wasting time. His mouth fastens over my clit, and gibberish bursts out of me when I try to tell him how good it feels.
I swear he’s grinning. Not sure I’ve ever had anyone grin when their face was right there.
The smile fades, and he starts holding my hips down when I try to move. It feels too good. And he makes me take it all.
It feels like minutes and hours in different ways, until I’m suddenly crying out his name.
He tears his mouth away, but his lips find mine before I can even catch my breath, and he thrusts in. I swallow his groan, feeling his chest vibrate against mine. When he breaks the kiss, he pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, his hips moving at an agonizingly languid pace.
And that’s how he takes me.
Slowly.
Reverently.
Preciously.
With his eyes never leaving mine until I close them again, overwhelmed by sensation. He buries his face in my neck as his hips pick up a little speed, just enough to send him over the edge right behind me.
He kisses my neck—butterfly soft kisses. I run my hands over him slowly, sweetly, committing everything to memory as I keep my eyes closed, worried I’ll cry more if they’re open.
We lie like that, silently wrapped up in each other for what seems like no time, before someone knocks on the door.
“You said to get you in four hours,” Drex’s voice calls out. “What’s going on?”
Axle tenses against me, his grip tightening on my hips. Yes, I start thinking he’s about to tell me he can’t do this. That he can’t let me go. Or that he can’t let me go without him.
Instead, he says, “Let’s get you to that extraction team.”
With that, he pushes up and off the bed, putting on his clothes, and he walks out, leaving me to get dressed alone.
CHAPTER 31
AXLE
“You have your roller skates?” Eve asks Maya, forcing a smile as I do everything in my fucking power not to break something. Or hit something. Or kill someone.
Those are currently my life goals.
Maya nods, not smiling in return, and I’m one st
ep closer to risking everyone’s lives when she quickly swipes at a new tear that has fallen.
She’s crying over me.
Over. Me.
And I’m ready to kill over her. For her.
If it wasn’t putting everyone else at risk, I’d say to hell with it all. But everyone else is at risk. And it’s really fucking selfish to watch people who’ve had my back for years risk certain death because I finally found something I want in life.
“You know,” Drex says quietly as he joins me at my side, his eyes on Maya and Eve as they talk near the vehicles, “I sent Eve away. Swore it was the best way to keep her safe. Didn’t work out so well, in case you’ve forgotten.”
He’s careful not to touch me as he crosses his arms over his chest and continues to stare ahead at the girls.
“Eve didn’t have an entire elite force at her fingertips when she went home. That team can’t be here. It’d easily draw too much attention, and be too noticeable to her brother or Phillip. The guys she trusts are the guys they know.”
He nods slowly.
“But you’re not sending her home for her safety, are you?” he pries. “You’re sending her home for ours. Which is, to be completely honest, really fucking insulting.”
He quirks an eyebrow at me, and I blow out a breath while looking away.
“Not in the mood to fucking bullshit, Drex. We both know we’re hurting right now. Too many loyalties are torn, and too many people are willing to fuck us over.”
“At least until we make a statement,” Drex says with a shrug. “Maya would be safe then, right? Since Pop’s guys would be a little less brazen to just fuck with us? Right now, they still see me as his brat kid and the old man as the one with all the brains, but if we—”
“Drex,” I say, feeling tired and really fucking sick of talking, “not right now. We’ve been strategizing to the point we’re trying to make Herrin look like a rat to the feds, a traitor to Benny, and a thorn in Phillip’s side. Today, I don’t want to talk strategy. I don’t want to talk at all.”
