by C. M. Owens
Eve can’t shoot a gun. It’s official. It doesn’t matter how many times we try to teach her, it’s like there’s something in her brain that causes her hands to jerk and there’s no telling where that bullet is going to go.
When we tell her not to grip it too tightly, she grips it tighter. When we tell her to loosen her arms, she gets more rigid. And saying the opposite doesn’t work either.
Fighting… Don’t even get me started on her fighting skills—or lack thereof.
The only thing that saves her is a lucky nut-shot here and there.
She’s pouting when we leave behind the practice range and head upstairs to join the others. She takes a seat in my lap as soon as I sit down on one of the oversized sofas, and she rests her head on my shoulder as the others join us.
“Any word on Pop?” I ask Axle.
“Still no word on what he’s doing.” He glances back at some of the guys laughing and drinking, while Dash tosses down a piece of paper with a list.
“Those are our clients for the month. Herrin lost his biggest source of income when he lost our skills. He’s reached out to some of our clients, but only one has dropped off the list. People seem to be more scared of you than him,” Dash tells me.
“He did take a massive chunk of cash out of the accounts before we could get all the info changed,” Axle grumbles. “That’s hurting us right now. It’ll take a while to build back up a hefty fund, and we can’t do anything about the money he took without spilling blood.”
“We’re not ready for blood,” Rush tells him, distracted.
“Aware of that. We just need to cut back on spending for now until we can beef it up. I bought all the supplies for our next install. When they pay, it’ll help push us back up a little,” Axle goes on.
We shouldn’t be having this discussion outside of the meeting room, but things have gotten a little too lax. No one is close enough to hear us, besides Eve. I don’t bring Eve in on the meetings—with the exception of one time. But this is all shit she’s heard me talk about.
Eve sighs as she glances at the clock on the wall.
“I need to get to work. Drake will be opening the shop soon.”
I groan, wishing like crazy she wouldn’t keep working for Drake, not that I don’t trust her. I just hate the influence he has on her, considering I’ve heard about that fucking cocksucker daisy one too many times from her now. She even asked if she could get one.
Fucking Drake.
“I’ll walk you,” I tell her as she climbs out of my lap.
She flashes me a smile, and I flip off Dash when he mocks a gagging noise. They love busting my ass about the power she has over me, but they can fuck off.
Eve leans into my side when I walk her out, and we glance across the street to where Drake’s shop has moved. I might have talked him into moving closer so I could worry less about Eve’s safety. Considering he’s staying with us and still has one leg in a cast, he didn’t argue much. We’ve owned two of the vacant buildings for a while, so at least now I’m getting some rent off one.
Drake is already inside when we walk in, and he waggles his eyebrows at Eve.
“Did you draw up that pretty pussy design?” he asks her.
“Yes I did. Got the lips just right for it, too,” she says while laughing.
I don’t even want to know.
Tugging her to me, I crush my lips to hers, and she melts against me. She may have power over me, but I have just as much over her.
“Call me when you’re done or if you have problems,” I tell her as I break the kiss.
She grins while strutting away, glancing over her shoulder and winking at me before handing a sketchbook to Drake. Despite the fact he got one cast removed and only has one leg left in a cast, he’s still riding his wheelchair instead of using crutches. He does a weird wheelie in it when he sees the design.
How do you get an electric wheelchair to do a wheelie? Ask Drake.
“Hot damn! She’s going to love it.”
“Colleen going back to the salon today?” Eve asks me as she takes a seat behind the small counter and opens the appointment book.
“Yeah. Snake—I mean Jude—is driving her over there, and we’ll have guys posted there all day. Don’t worry about her.”
She nods while chewing on her lip, and I turn to head out of the shop. Can’t believe Colleen and Eve are friends now. Life is all kinds of tilted, but it’s better. Much better.
At least for me.
Jude—I’m struggling with getting used to calling him that—walks out with Colleen on his heels, and they give me a brief wave as I walk into our clubhouse. Yeah, he’s still pissed and brooding about Sarah, but at least he seems to be dealing with things a little better.
Sarah has become a phantom, and hasn’t shown up since that night at the strip club. I don’t know if she’s in town or gone now that Marshall is handled, and I don’t particularly care.
I still owe her for Eve’s life, so if she ever comes to cash in, I’ll have to break that promise to one of my best friends about not interacting with her.
See? It’s all fucking tilted.
My pop is my enemy, my girl is from the burbs, the pussy bitch boy—Ben—that I overlooked is a threat, and Benny may or may not be an issue. That last part is the same as it’s always been, but the rest is jacked up. Oh, and now I’m keeping tabs on the sister I haven’t seen in years.
Axle walks up, twirling his keys on his finger. “Got a date tonight with some potential clients. Going to check out their establishment and see if they’re legit before we get involved,” he says.
“Take Jude and Dash with you.”
He shrugs while glancing back at the roughnecks who are scuffling near the sofa. Most of us have been staying here until the heat dies down. Strength in numbers sort of deal. It’s too risky to go to our own individual houses, and my house is in the fucking burbs, since I bought Eve’s childhood home. Unbelievable.
“Think we can trust everyone here?” he muses.
“Beats the fuck out of me. We’ll find out, I guess.”
“We still need a club name. Reapers didn’t go over so well.”
“Another problem for another day,” I tell him, feeling an itch form underneath my skin.
“Right. Well, I’m going to grab some food for everyone. Need anything?”
Yeah, I do need something.
I walk away without saying a word, cross the street again, and head straight into the tattoo parlor. Eve’s head snaps up from the counter when the door chimes, and a grin blooms across her face when she sees me.
She steps out from behind the counter and walks straight to me. The second she’s close enough, I pull her against me and pick her up enough so I can kiss her without bending over.
“You two are fucking disgusting,” Drake says before the buzzing sound of his tat gun resumes.
Eve kisses me back, and I dig one hand into her hair, guiding her toward the back of the shop.
“Don’t break anything this time,” Drake calls out, causing Eve to giggle as I drop her ass on a wobbly counter in the back and shove her skirt up on her hips.
She kisses me harder, drawing me in, and I try to think of a time when she wasn’t consuming every fucking thought in my head. All I know is that Eve would walk through hell with me, and there’s a chance that day will come.
I’ll make it worth it in the meantime.
It’s all about living today and chasing death tomorrow. Fuck the rest.
THE END
For a sneak peek at Axle’s Brand (book 3 of the Death Chasers MC Series), keep reading.
Chapter 1
MAYA
One hour ago, I was in my apartment and settling down for a night of binge watching movies with pizza, beer, and popcorn.
Now? Now I’m the girl who’s freaking out and hiding in the back of a big SUV, and I’m a girl who is silently begging a guy to let me stay hidden as he glares at me with cold eyes, a tense jaw, and indecision in his posture.
Scars line his face, and he looks freaking terrifying with that glower in those icy eyes. But for some reason, I also feel safe in his presence. Because I’ve lost my mind, most likely, and am desperate to feel as though I might be safe again.
I’m so screwed if he doesn’t let me stay hidden.
His muscles flex as he finally shuts the backdoor, not saying anything to anyone as he hides me from sight. He stays close, letting me see him through the side glass, even as I stay as close to the ground as possible.
I have no idea where we’re about to go. I have no idea who he is. But right now, that tattooed guy with scars is my favorite version of a dark angel, because he may very well be saving my life.
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