Axle's Brand (Death Chasers MC Series #3)

by C. M. Owens

  That makes it a little less awkward that I went and fell in love with him.

  As the sheet falls away, I realize I’m not completely naked. There’s a lot of Ace bandaging around my torso.

  My eyes drift to the small mirror on the wall, and I grimace when I see all the bruises on my face. The swelling is minor, but Drake’s words still ring true.

  I really do look like shit.

  CHAPTER 42

  AXLE

  Fifteen of Herrin’s men should be a damn good start to making a statement. That was what we did this morning when our prospect lure took Liza’s body with him, and two others came to pick him up.

  We followed.

  We killed.

  We burned down the damn place.

  Pretty straightforward message: Fuck with us, and we’ll fuck you harder.

  Now Benny—president of the Hell Breathers—who has sided with Herrin, is staring inside a small bag where part of his son is staring back at him. He cuts his gaze away, handing the bag off to someone else, as he vibrates with fury.

  “I wanted him back alive. I said I would handle it!” Benny spits out. His gaze lands on us again. “You want a—”

  “Don’t say war,” Jude drawls, feigning boredom. “We’re sick of that word.”

  Drex smirks as Benny looks back to him.

  “Apparently you forgot that Pop was the civilized one out of the two of us. You sided with him. You let your goons join his on a ride that shot up my club,” Drex tells him, and Benny’s nostrils flare as his eyes widen marginally. “You chose your side. I’d reconsider that choice. Because in case you haven’t heard, we’ve started reaping debts in blood.”

  He gestures toward the bag.

  “He touched my girl. He kept her locked away, torturing her. That was actually fairly kind. Notice Hershel missing?” Drex asks flippantly.

  Benny’s eyes widen a little more.

  “He’s not dying as kindly,” I say with a bitter smile as my phone goes off with a text.

  “Last warning, Benny. Your guys side with Herrin again, and I’ll add you to the list of names we reap,” Drex warns.

  A guy beside Benny pulls out his gun as Benny shouts at him not to do it, but it’s too late. A shot rings out across the empty parking lot, and the guy’s body hits the ground.

  Benny’s guys look around, like they’re searching for where that just came from.

  “No more games, Benny. We’ve made a few friends along the way,” Drex goes on coldly.

  I can tell Benny wants to kill us, but he’s not a complete idiot. He knows there’s a sharpshooter. Hell, he figured we came here with some backup, which is why he didn’t go for his gun himself.

  I turn my back on them, only because I know Sarah is still on top of a roof, her sights set on anyone who reaches for a weapon.

  Benny will cool down, then he’ll weigh his options. We just shot one of their guys in front of them, and they couldn’t do a damn thing. And we’re just one circle of our new faction.

  I pull out my phone, reading the text from Drake, and curse as I hurry my steps to my ride.

  “What?” Drex asks me.

  “Maya thinks she’s fucking leaving.”

  CHAPTER 43

  MAYA

  Smitty opens the back door for me, as I lean on Eve a little to help me down the stairs. My ribs are screaming at me to lie back down, but I pretend as though all is sunny inside me.

  “I wish you’d at least stay here until I can bump up security protocols. No one knows you’re here. More and more people seem to know who you are in New York,” Smitty says grimly. “I need a specialist to come in and find out how Troy got you out of the building.”

  I shake my head, hurting too severely to walk and talk at the same time.

  Just as I reach the SUV, the loud, distinct sound of Harleys has me turning my head as the guys drive toward us, barreling down the highway.

  Axle is out in front, and he pulls into the yard, parking directly behind the SUV. My heart does all its usual girly things, even as it breaks a little at the sight of him.

  Hard jaw set in anger and eyes narrowed on me like he’s furious, he tosses his helmet aside as he moves to be directly beside me.

  “I didn’t say you could leave yet,” Axle tells me in his gruff, commanding tone.

  My eyebrow arches in challenge. “As a matter of fact, you all but shoved me out the door once already. I think, if it’s all the same to you, I’ll leave on my own accord this time.”

  Proud that my voice is steady, I start to brace myself for the pain that will come when I haul my ass into the back. A breath rushes out of me instead, when I’m suddenly being lifted—very carefully.

  It’s my turn to narrow my eyes as I look up to see Axle staring straight ahead as he cradles me to his chest.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I ask, then wince when the force of my words jostles my ribs unfavorably.

  “Be thankful I’m cautious of your ribs,” he says stoically. “Otherwise, you’d be tossed over my shoulder right now.”

  He stalks up the steps and into the house, and I cast a helpless glance over his shoulder at Smitty, who is closing the back door like we’re not leaving.

  I start to yell at him, when Axle turns abruptly and carries me back into the bedroom before kicking the door shut behind him.

  “Axle,” I groan, exasperated.

  I focus on my frustration instead of all the things my heart is trying to do.

  He gently places me on the bed, like he’s worried I’m a piece of glass and will shatter at any moment. The soft gesture is only temporarily distracting.

  His shirt being tugged over his head is a little more distracting as he tosses it aside. I notice the blood on it, so don’t ask what he’s doing as he stalks back out and says something about a sandwich I think.

  Talk about random.

  Then he’s back in, leaning against the door as he stares at me in that old familiar way.

  “As much as I appreciate you risking your life to come save me, I still can’t stay here until you suddenly remember how dangerous it is—”

  “You’re not safer in New York,” he interrupts. “We’re raising hell, reclaiming the fear we instill that people seem to have forgotten about. It’s only a matter of time before we finally kill Herrin.”

  My brow furrows. “What does this—”

  “You’re staying here, Maya. You said yourself that you didn’t have to be in New York, and it’s proven that it’s not safe for you. Someone can get to you too easily.”

  He pushes away from the door, undoing his jeans as he comes to me. The door opens before he gets them pushed down.

  Colleen steps in with a plate and a sandwich, and my stomach growls as if it’s calling dibs. Axle smirks like he expected that, and Colleen hands me the sandwich that I can’t refuse.

  “Thank you,” I mumble around a mouthful, and she smiles tightly at me.

  She deliberately avoids looking at his back as she walks out and shuts the door behind her. Axle drops his jeans the second she’s out, and I shake my head.

  “No sex for me. I’m too sore. And I need to be leaving,” I tell him, biting another piece of the sandwich and telling myself to eat slowly so I don’t get sick. “Right after I finish this.”

  His lips twitch as he climbs into the bed beside me, careful not to jostle it too much. Meanwhile, I eat like a starving lady.

  When he leans over, my breath catches and the mouthful of food stops getting chewed, because his lips skim the side of my neck.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss just under my jaw.

  I almost shiver. Almost.

  “Axle, I have to—”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” he says again, a little more forcefully this time as he kisses his way down the column of my throat.

  I swallow painfully at the barely chewed food, putting my plate in my lap as I tilt my head to the side.

  �
�See, I’m keeping you whether you want to stay or not. Because I’m not going to be able to be that far away now that I know you’re not safe there,” he goes on, his words not as seductive as his tone as he kisses another spot on my neck.

  A small sigh passes through my lips as he drags his lips up my neck, nipping my ear when he reaches it. “And I don’t do well with fear. I hate it. It doesn’t have any room in my life, but apparently I’m going to fear losing you no matter where you are. I’d rather you be here so I can at least put myself out of my misery when I’ve got you in my bed.”

  I feel his smile against my neck, and it stupidly infects me, forcing my lips to reluctantly mimic the same motion.

  “If I stay, you can’t kick me out again,” I say when he just continues to kiss my neck, trying to soften me to his will.

  “I’ll have you chained to my side as often as possible,” he says as though that’s a perfectly acceptable response.

  I roll my eyes, wishing my lips weren’t so sore. Or that I had a toothbrush.

  He sticks to my neck though, so that keeps me from worrying about the latter.

  “I’m trying to figure out if you’re crazy or romantic,” I murmur absently.

  “Both,” he deadpans without hesitation. “It’s a side effect of loving a girl who likes tiny condiment bottles as collectibles and skates when she’s waiting on a death tally.”

  My grin crawls up, but then it falls immediately as his words sink in. He draws back, eyes intense as he studies mine.

  “Tiny condiment bottles are a perfect collectible,” I state flatly, my heart still thundering in my ears as he slowly smiles that devastatingly perfect smile so few get to see.

  His gaze flicks to my lips, and I start worrying about that toothbrush again. He stops himself from kissing me, his eyes probably assessing the damage there.

  “Are you staying?” he asks, his gaze flicking back up to mine.

  “Are you really giving me a choice?” I muse.

  His smile only grows. “No.”

  “Then why bother asking?” I ask on a mock sigh of frustration, though I can’t stop the smile that spreads again. “Besides, Mr. Surly just said he loved me. I suppose I need to stick around so I can taunt you for it.”

  A small rumble of laughter escapes him, and he slides his hand up my neck, gently cupping the lower part of the side of my face that isn’t beaten to hell.

  When his lips brush over mine, barely ghosting them, a tear rolls down my cheek. I’m not sure why. There’s no pain. And there’s no such thing as happy tears, right? I mean, I’ve never actually cried from being happy.

  But all I feel is—

  “So if she’s staying, does that mean I get a free pass if I make Blackbird my bookie and bet too much?” I hear Drake calling through the door.

  Axle groans, and I sniffle as I bat the weird tears away. His lips move to my forehead, kissing me there.

  “Go away, Drake,” he calls out. “Before I make you look like me.”

  “You need to stop threatening my face. It’s the only thing too pretty for ink, let alone a butcher knife.”

  Axle laughs lightly even as I scowl at the door.

  “You just wish you were as pretty as him,” I defend, then feel stupid when everyone, including Axle, bursts out laughing. I’m glad that door is shut, that way no one can see my red face after being a little overly defensive.

  “My little protector,” Axle murmurs, sliding his lips back down my neck. “Eat your sandwich. We need to get you healthy.”

  I turn and look at him, arching an eyebrow.

  “It’ll be a while before you can have another blowjob, because of the ribs and all.”

  A snort comes from the other side of the door as Axle just grins at me.

  “But you might be able to sit on my face in a few weeks.”

  That has me biting into the sandwich just to keep from thinking about my favorite thing to do, and he grins as he lies back beside me.

  “I’m going to drink myself into forgetting I ever heard this conversation,” I hear Smitty say from the other side of the door.

  And I almost choke on my sandwich as the laughter restarts.

  A small grin plays on my lips when I see the light peeking through those pale eyes of Axle’s. That light is reserved for only me.

  And it’s really freaking special.

  EPILOGUE

  MAYA

  Axle’s lips move away from mine, as he collapses to my body. It’s been almost two months since all hell broke loose. Things are quiet right now, but we know Herrin is plotting his next move.

  Just the calm before the storm.

  Hershel has started singing. He broke a lot quicker than most anyone expected, but I won the pool because I guessed it the closest. Betting odds are sort of my thing, and they’re thinking about taking me out of the pools in the future.

  Petty amateurs.

  No backlash has found us for Lathan’s death. From what little information Ingrid has been able to gather, Phillip thinks the Family came down and wiped out Lathan for taking me and trying to steal Blackbird’s money.

  Understandable.

  Phillip doesn’t want a war with the Families, and he doesn’t yet know one is coming.

  “I can’t believe you fucking did this,” Axle says, eyeing my left breast that has his name literally tattooed on it.

  He didn’t freak out, much to my dismay. He merely threatened to kill Drake for seeing so much of my ladies. No, those were nowhere nearly his exact words.

  Anticlimactic as his reaction was, it was still funny to see him turn murderous and Drake hide in the storage room that day, swearing he never saw nipple, as if that made it all better.

  “I like it. It’s totally awesome to wear a low-cut shirt, too, because girls see it and know I’m crazy enough to get your name on me, so I might be crazy enough to stab them in the throat if they try to steal you.”

  He grunts, and I feel him roll his eyes.

  “We could stay in here all day,” Axle says against my neck as he kisses his way back up.

  “But the warehouse has been fixed and modified to now withstand an outside explosion,” I say as he slides his lips all along my chest, working his way down to tempt me.

  I grab his hair, halting his descent, and feel him smile against the underside of my left breast.

  “And I really want to see what I’ve paid for,” I go on, grinning when he rolls his eyes.

  “Drex will pay you back just as soon—”

  “I’m not worried about repayment. Consider it my payment for the protective services I’m being given. Besides, if I’m staying there, I never want to have to worry about being exploded again.”

  He tenses subtly, not wanting me to feel it, but I find myself wishing to recant that terrible joke. I blame him. He’s made me less funny because he’s horrible at being funny.

  “Besides, I also bought a gift for the club, and it’s finally here. I want to see the unveiling,” I go on, grinning when he looks at me curiously.

  “You’re making me feel as though I have a sugar momma at this point.”

  I burst out laughing, then wonder if he maybe stole my funny and left me with his non-funny humor. Totally an unfair trade.

  We clean up and dress quickly, though Axle is reluctant to leave our bubble. He’s always reluctant to leave it.

  I ride on the back of his bike, my hands clutched around his middle. He’s relaxed and at ease as we follow Dash and Sledge to the clubhouse.

  Today is the dawn of a new era.

  It’s a big day.

  And I feel excited to even get to be a part of it.

  It feels as though my heart is with two Families now.

  We pull inside the newly renovated and larger hangar, and Axle helps me off the bike before he drops his arm around my shoulders.

  His name is visible amongst the cleavage I’m sporting, and he glances down at it, shaking his head as a small smile plays on his lips. Secretly, he loves th
e tattoo, but he’s too proud to admit it.

  His face turns to stony expression, giving nothing away, the second we step into the partying atmosphere, everyone celebrating the clubhouse’s revival. Axle doesn’t share smiles with just anyone.

  They’re special and reserved for people he finds special.

  I get the most smiles. Not that I’m keeping score or anything.

  The room inside has been made a little larger, perfect for skating when this place isn’t full of bikers. Maybe that was on purpose.

  There’s a guy in a chair with a bag over his head, his hands tied behind him, and his body shaking with silent sobs. It appears I’m the only one who is even given any pause by the sight, because all the others are drinking and enjoying the girls who are happily paying them attention.

  “Anyone know why Tiffany and the other new girls are giving me the same cold shoulder as the ones who worked with Sarah?” Jude drawls. “Been getting worse over the past two months.”

  “Probably has something to do with the fact your legendary assassin ex has started working with us on certain jobs,” Axle says with no emotion.

  Jude snorts and rolls his eyes. “She can cock-block me all she wants. It doesn’t change the fact we’re never getting back together.”

  “What’s with the prisoner thing?” I ask, gesturing toward Mr. Bagged Head.

  Jude glances over, gives me a careless shrug, but a wicked grin spreads over his face. “Demonstration day.”

  Frowning, I study the guy. “What sort of demonstration?”

  Jude musses my hair, treating me less like an infectious disease and more like a tolerated nuisance. “You’ll see, skater girl.”

  He turns and walks away, leaving that suspended in the air, and I cut my eyes toward Axle.

  He shrugs, unconcerned, and I roll my eyes as Drex stands up on the bar. The music cuts out, and hushed silence falls over the room as the partying pauses.

  “In case you haven’t heard, over the past two months, we’ve made a hell of a lot of changes. The clubhouse is safer than ever as long as what’s within the walls is loyal.”