by Jayne Blue
“You don’t drop that piece right now, my next one’s going to be straight between your eyes!”
He didn’t move. I squeezed the trigger and hit Junior in the right shoulder. His gun flew out of his hands and landed on the seat in front of him. I didn’t give him a chance to recover. Keeping my gun trained on his fucking head, I opened the passenger side door, grabbed his weapon, and slid it into my waistband.
“I ought to blow your fucking brains out right here!” My voice came out as a hiss.
My vision tunneled. The world fell away except for the barrel of my gun, my trigger finger, and the trembling man in front of me. My quarry. Everything slowed. The bullet would enter his forehead, squarely between his eyes. It would leave a small hole, the worst of the damage would be to the back of his head and everything in between. Still, the Calhoun Brothers would be able to do an excellent job with him so his mother could still have an open casket.
My gift. My calling. All I had to do was move my finger a fraction of an inch.
“Axle!”
Maya’s voice reached me through the din. My vision widened. I became aware of the gold glint of the sun reflecting off Junior’s side mirror. I heard Junior beg me for mercy as he slumped against the driver’s side door, blood pouring out of the shoulder wound I’d given him. My own blood dripped down my elbow, pooling in fat droplets in the dirt.
“Axle!” Maya called again, tethering me to earth.
“Are you okay?” I yelled back, still keeping my Nine trained right on Junior’s head.
“Yes,” she gasped. I felt her breath near my ear.
“You’re bleeding,” she said.
“Ain’t nothing but a scratch,” I said. “Baby, get my phone out of my back pocket, will you?”
She did. I kept my hands on the trigger and told Maya to hold the phone near my mouth.
“Call Kade,” I said. As the phone dialed, Maya held it closer to my ear. Kade answered on the second ring.
“Ax, where are you?” Kade said.
“Marshall Road,” I answered. “Just about halfway between Corpus Christi and Port Az. We’ve got a problem. I need you to bring a cleanup crew. ” I couldn’t say more over the phone. But I knew Kade could figure out the rest.
I jerked my chin toward Maya and she took the phone away.
“Axle, be reasonable,” Junior said. Even this asshole knew what a cleanup crew meant. “You really wanna put both our businesses on the line?”
“You really wanna say more stupid shit, Junior?”
His eyes darted from Maya to me and back again. “You gotta be kidding me,” Junior said. “You telling me this gash got in your head?”
My fingers twitched on the trigger. The tunnel vision threatened to return. Maya put a gentle hand on my good shoulder.
So, we stayed that way. Sweat poured down my face. Maya took her sleeve and wiped it away. Junior whimpered from the pain of his gunshot wound in the front seat of his car. I don’t know how long it took for the crew to get there. It probably wasn’t more than ten minutes but it felt like forever.
But Zig, Kade, Benz, and Chase showed up in a van. They piled out, each of them with their hands on their side arms, ready for battle. Kade’s eyes widened with understanding when he saw who I had in the car.
“We good?” I asked him, itching to end this once and for all.
Benz stepped forward. He put his hand on my wrist, trying to pull the gun away.
“No way, man,” I said. “He’s mine.”
A look passed between Kade and Chase.
“Axle,” Zig said. “You know we want what you want, but this is Bear’s call. He’s on his way. You let us take it from here. You need to get that shoulder looked at.”
“Mama Bear can do that,” I said. But my vision started to waver. I let out a breath and locked eyes with Benz. He gave me a tight-lipped nod. I nodded back and finally handed him the gun.
Maya’s arms came around me. “Are you okay? Axle, you’re bleeding bad.”
I stepped away, leaving Benz, Chase, and Kade to deal with Junior. Zig came with us.
“It’s just a scratch,” Zig answered for me. “It’d take a hell of a lot more than Junior DiSalvo to do damage to Axle. Are you okay, Maya?”
She tensed in my arms but gave Zig a nod. “I will be.”
“Good,” he said. “Now let us deal with this shithead for you. Maya, I suppose Axle’s told you, but you’re under the club’s protection now. It’s going to be okay.”
Zig said other things, but I pulled Maya away. I wanted to get her as far away from Junior DiSalvo as possible.
“Are you really okay?” I asked her. I didn’t think I’d be able to drive but I wanted to get her back to the clubhouse as soon as possible.
“Have I told you lately that I hate you, Axle Hart?” she said, but her eyes shone with fresh tears and she smiled wide.
“I love you too, baby,” I said. Then I kissed her long and deep. Maya’s fingers laced through my hair and the feel of her body pressed against mine took all the pain and darkness away.
“God help me, baby,” she whispered. “But I love you too.”
Chapter 23
Maya
Axle Hart is the toughest man I’ve ever known. He had a towel in the backseat of the SUV and had me press it against his wound as he drove one-handed back to Port Azrael. We followed Zig in the other vehicle.
When we pulled off and went up a winding driveway to a simple black building tucked into the woods, that’s when I started to breathe again. Axle put the car in park and took out the keys. His color turned to ash and he gripped the steering wheel.
“I’m okay.” He lifted a hand when I leaned in closer.
“You need help,” I said. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into letting you drive. Let me get Zig or one of the others to help you out of the car.”
“No,” Axle said. He straightened. “I’m walking into that clubhouse under my own steam. Let Junior see that.”
“What does it say about me that part of me wishes you’d just put him out of his misery back there?” I said.
Axle laughed. “So do I, baby. But Zig was right. Junior’s fate is Bear’s call. It impacts the club.”
Bear. Axle had told me that’s what they called the club president. It hadn’t meant much to me, but now, something shook loose. “Axle, that night. When I was in the alley and Junior roughed up Cory, I remembered something.”
“What, baby?”
“It might be nothing. I mean, it’s the kind of thing people say. But Cory said it more than once, I think. And when he did, it seemed to set Junior off. Actually, after Cory said it, that’s when Junior started to wail on him. Cory said something about how Junior should be careful not to poke the bear. Do you think that means something? About the club?”
Axle stiffened in his seat. “You’re sure you heard him right?”
“Yeah. Don’t poke the bear. Or, be careful of what happens if you poke the bear. Like I said, I know that’s an expression, but it sure as hell sent Junior over the edge.”
Junior. He was tied up in the back of the van with his own shoulder wound. I hoped he suffered. There could be no doubt he followed us out on that highway to kill me. He’d admitted as much to Axle when he begged for his life before they stuffed him in the van. Axle surmised that Detective Langley called Junior after hearing from me. He’d called the club too, figuring the two sides could sort out what to do with me.
My heart still pounded half out of my chest as we walked into the clubhouse of the Dark Saints M.C. together. It didn’t look like much from the outside. Just a flat-roofed, L-shaped black building with a steel door. Inside, it was separated into three sections. In the middle, the guys had a bar and game area with pool tables and round tops. On one end, Axle told me they kept some rooms where the members could crash if they needed to. In the back, they had a conference room where only members were allowed.
Axle plopped onto a chair near the bar. Sweat poured from h
is brow and I didn’t like the looks of him. “Can we get some help here?” I said; my voice sounded choked.
A woman came out of the shadows. She was tiny, barely five feet tall with white, spiky hair cropped close to her head. She had steel-gray eyes that flashed as she looked at me. Her features were striking if not severe with a long, knife’s-edge nose, high cheekbones, and full lips.
“This is Mama,” Axle coughed.
Mama looked me over then muscled around me. She ripped Axle’s sleeve down the center to assess his wound. The bleeding had stopped, but his left shoulder looked like raw hamburger meat.
“E.Z.,” she called. “Get my kit!”
E.Z., looked more like a lumberjack than a biker with a full, graying beard, broad shoulders, and a permanent scowl on his face. I put him at his mid-forties. He brought a medical bag and thumped it on the table next to Mama.
She pulled out strips of cloth and a bottle of iodine and set to work. “You Maya?” she asked, not looking up from her task. Axle had told me in the car that “Mama” was his club president’s wife. She was a former army medic and from the looks of things, she was used to patching these men up on a regular basis.
“Yes,” I said. “Maya Ballard.”
“You’re Axle’s?” she asked. It was only then that she looked up and met my eyes. It was a simple question, but loaded. I knew on some preternatural level that my answer would determine the course of things.
I hesitated, meeting Axle’s stare. The hint of mischief danced in his eyes and I flat out wanted to strangle him. All the events of the last twenty-four hours flooded through me. Axle had lied to me. He’d been sent to deal with me so I wouldn’t testify against Junior. Except he didn’t. Instead, he’d risked his position with the club to get me out of harm’s way. I could see that now. And less than an hour ago, he’d put his body between mine and Junior DiSalvo’s bullet. Finally, he’d put his life in my literal hands when he handed me his gun and made me turn it on him.
I’d spent the last week in part of his world. He’d shared the deepest parts of himself and I’d shared mine. I told him once that he was the rightest wrong choice I’d ever made. I felt that now, warming my heart at the same time it took my breath away.
“Yes,” I said, facing Mama Bear straight on. “I’m Axle’s.”
She dabbed a swab of iodine into Axle’s wound, making him hiss with pain. “Oh hush,” she said. “Don’t be a baby. The bullet went clean through. It made a track, not a hole. Didn’t hit anything important though it screwed up some of your ink. Once the bleeding’s good and stopped, I’ll stitch it up. You were lucky.”
Axle met my eyes. “Damn straight I was.”
“Well, Maya,” Mama Bear said. “Welcome to club life. It’s never boring. You think you can handle it?”
The question took me aback. Club life. Axle’s club. Axle’s life. He looked at me with hard intensity and laid his heart open as Mama Bear tended to his wounds.
“I’ll do that,” I said. Something told me the next moment was a test. I moved closer, almost shoulder to shoulder with Mama Bear. I picked up the bottle of iodine and held out my hand, asking for the cotton cloth she held.
Mama Bear set her jaw to the side, almost cracking a smile. She put one hand on her hip and glanced at Axle. He narrowed his eyes at her in an unspoken challenge. Mama Bear put the gauze in my outstretched hand, clasping my fingers with hers. Then I turned to Axle, dipped the gauze in more iodine, and pressed it to his wound.
This was club life. Axle’s life. And I was his.
Chapter 24
Axle
Maya agreed to stay with me at the clubhouse that night. With Junior under the same roof, things were tense, but at least we could keep an eye on him. Once Mama had my wound stitched up and the probies had Junior under heavy guard, Bear called a meeting. He got right down to business.
“I’ve called Christine DiSalvo,” he said. “Through channels, I made sure she understands what’s going on with Junior.”
“Are we really going to bend to her wishes on this?” I asked. My trigger finger still itched where I’d held the gun on Junior. I could have made this real simple if I’d just ended him out there.
“She’s gotta realize time is of the essence here. We can’t keep Junior on in our house forever,” Benz said.
“We meet her in an hour,” Bear said. “Neutral turf.”
“Bear,” I said. Maya’s story about what Cory Kline said to Junior in the alley stuck with me. I filled Bear and the others in.
“Don’t poke the bear,” E.Z. said. “That don’t mean shit.”
“Maybe not,” I said. “But that kid, Cory. He wasn’t real deep, if you know what I mean. I don’t know. It’s the kind of thing I could see him meaning literally.”
“I think it’s time to get a hold of my contact with the Feds again,” Bear said. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and walked into the corner of the room. He paced, waiting for the call to go through. When it did, Bear’s end of the conversation was short and to the point. He wanted to know what Junior was dangling as bait.
When Bear got off the phone, the answer was written clearly in the grimace on his face. “That little fuck,” Bear said. “She’s right. I don’t know how the Kline kid was involved, but our name came up in what Junior was planning to give the Feds.”
“You think he was planning to sell out the club?” I asked.
“I think me and his mama need to have a little chat with Junior.”
“Bear,” I said. “I need to be there. This guy. An hour and a half ago he tried to put a bullet in Maya’s head right in front of me. Whatever happens with him, I need to be part of it.”
Bear nodded. “That’s never been in question, Axle. You up for a road trip?” He eyed my bandaged shoulder.
I rose to my feet. “You bet your ass.”
It was settled. Me, Zig, Bear, Benz, and Shep rode out to Christine DiSalvo’s neutral location. It was an abandoned warehouse off Highway 37 not far from the dunes where I’d taken Maya not so long ago. Deacon and the others stayed back at the clubhouse waiting for word and getting to know Maya. She looked scared for a second when I told her I had to go.
“Be careful,” she said. Mama Bear came to her side and put an arm around her.
“Don’t you worry, honey,” she said. “Bear will bring him back in one piece.” Maya couldn’t see the look she shot Bear, but she fucking meant it.
Bear leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “It’s all good, Mama,” he said. Then he jerked his chin and the rest of us fell in behind him.
Shep drove the van with Junior still tied up in the back. I felt good enough to ride so I straddled my Harley and rode behind Zig and Bear. Benz pulled up the rear.
Christine DiSalvo was already at the warehouse when we arrived. Her black stretch limo was parked out front. Bear pulled up alongside it and walked to the back passenger side window all strut and swagger. His fingers played at his hip holster. Zig and I flanked him. Before Bear got to it, the dark tinted window of the limo rolled slowly down.
Christine DiSalvo might have been pretty long ago. But she’d been to one too many plastic surgeons and her lips puffed out. Her high cheekbones shone with rouge. She had ebony hair slicked back in a bun and she raised a dark brow as Bear approached. Her man stepped out of the other side of the car. He could have been Corey Kline’s twin with his ’roided-up muscles beneath a shiny, gray suit. He stood with his legs apart and his hands folded in front of him.
“You have my son?” Christine asked, her voice flat.
Bear leaned into the window. “He’s in the back of the van. Did you get my message?”
Bear had sent the intel he’d received about Junior’s extracurricular meetings with the Feds. I almost felt bad for Christine DiSalvo. Like Bear said, she was trying to keep Gino Sr.’s business afloat. Gino Sr. had cousins coming out of the woodwork looking for any sign of weakness.
“We’re in agreement,” was all Christine DiS
alvo said. “I’ll take care of it?”
Bear stood up. He kept his expression neutral, but I saw the flicker in his eyes. I had to concentrate on not reacting myself. If I’d just heard that right, Christine DiSalvo had just given the order to get rid of Junior.
“You sure you don’t want me to handle it? That’s what you pay us for,” Bear asked.
Christine DiSalvo leveled her gaze at Bear. “We’ll keep it in the family. I hope this will be the last time we ever have to meet in person, Mr. Bullock,” she said. “I’m taking over management of our businesses on the docks. In a few days I’ll let you know who your new contact person is.”
She said nothing more. She flicked her finger and her driver rolled up her window. Her body man moved to the van.
Benz opened the door and Junior DiSalvo tumbled out, his hands and feet still bound. Christine’s body man lifted him as if he weighed nothing, heaving him to his feet. Junior mumbled and begged for his life as his mother’s goon stuffed him into the trunk of her limo.
Then Christine DiSalvo’s limo pulled away leaving behind a cloud of dust.
“That is one stone-cold bitch,” Zig said, crossing his arms in front of himself as he stood at my shoulder.
“And we shouldn’t forget it,” Bear said. Then he came to me.
“Bear.” My voice went dry as I took in my surroundings. So close to the dunes, I realized it probably wasn’t a coincidence.
“Never again,” Bear said. He put a heavy hand on my wounded shoulder. Pain speared through me, nearly driving me to my knees. But I stayed upright and kept Bear’s eyes.
“Never again,” I answered.
Shep and Zig stepped into my field of vision, standing shoulder to shoulder with Bear.
“These are your brothers,” Bear said. “Nobody forget that.”
I swallowed hard past a lump in my throat. Bear was giving me a second chance. My legs damn near buckled, but I stood tall. Then Bear drew me into an embrace and slapped my back.
“Come on,” he said. “Your girl’s waiting for you. God knows what Mama will tell her if we stay away too long.”
