Hell on Wheels (Four Horsemen MC Book 6)

by Rayne, Cynthia

  Axel sincerely hoped they didn’t.

  “I’m in, brother,” Voodoo spoke up.

  Voo’s ability to read people would come in handy, but the club needed leadership. “Appreciate it, brother,” Axel said. “But you gotta be in charge while I’m gone. Anyone else?”

  Ace raised a hand. “You’ll need a man on this side of the border to act as a guard. You can’t take the bikes across the border without lookin’ awful suspicious. And if it gets real hairy, I’ll call in a favor and fly your asses into the country.” Ace had been a pilot in the war and still had his license.

  “That’s a solid Plan B, brother,” Axel said. Having a backup plan made him feel better.

  “I’m joining the Suicide Squad, too,” Coyote said, raising his hand. He had poker-straight black hair that fell to his shoulders and bronzed skin. He was a full-blooded Comanche and their resident tech expert. What he lacked in a gun fight, he more than made up for in technical skills. Axel intended to ask him to help Charlie out, if the club agreed to it.

  Coyote had been recruited by both the CIA and NSA at one time but chose the Four Horsemen instead.

  He had a thing for all things nerd. He usually spent most of his time behind a keyboard, hacking. He gathered intel on their asshole cases, and poked around something called “the dark web”—which sounded like a spider thing to Axel, but what did he know?

  “No, man. You can sit this one out,” Axel stated.

  Coyote’s breath hissed from between his teeth. “Believe me, I want to, but none of you speak Spanish.”

  Oh, fuck. Axel hadn’t even thought about that. What if the drug dealers didn’t speak English? It wasn’t something he should chance.

  “Besides, I handled that Raptor thing fine,” Coyote continued, clenching his hands on imaginary handlebars. When the club had rescued Shep, Coyote had burst in the door on Duke’s chopper as a diversion. “I ran over a couple of them, and I kept it together. I figure I could expand my horizons.”

  “You mean you want to grow a pair?” Steele asked, slapping Coyote on the back then laughing.

  Yo scowled. “I have a pair. Big ones, too.” Then he frowned. “You mean balls, right?”

  Axel cleared his throat and laid it out for the man. “While it isn’t quite a suicide mission, it’s going to be rough.”

  “That was a figure of speech, man. And I always help my brothers,” Yo said with a nod.

  Steele clapped him on the back again and Coyote coughed.

  “Welcome to the team, brother,” Axel said sadly. He promised himself that he’d watch Coyote’s back. “If we see any action, you’re the getaway driver. I want you in the truck with the shipment.”

  “Deal.”

  “Out of curiosity, what did you mean by Suicide Squad?” Axel asked.

  Everyone groaned. Axel should have known better. Don’t feed the nerd.

  Yo smiled. “Comic books. This is a full-on Suicide Squad mission. Sadly, without Harley Quinn.”

  “What’s that about Harleys?” Steele asked.

  The two of them had a little Laurel and Hardy routine going, like those two old cranky guys on The Muppet Show. Coyote worked out of a back office in Inferno and they bullshitted every day. Normally, Axel found their back and forth mildly irritating, but he was grateful for the humor at a time like this.

  “No, dude, Harley Quinn. She’s a chick from the DC universe, you know, Joker’s main squeeze? I’m a Marvel man, but I make exceptions for hotties.”

  “She’s a fuckin’ cartoon?” Steele asked. “Only you’d get a hard-on for a doodle.”

  “Dude,” Coyote said, swatting Steele. “You don’t even know. I’ll show you a picture later on today…then you can apologize.”

  Axel held up a hand, bringing the light-heartedness to a close. “Thanks for taking on this burden.” He couldn’t help but be proud of his brothers. They’d stepped up to the plate and hadn’t left him hanging. He worked with some fine men. “Just to be safe, I’m inviting our lawyer down in the next couple days, in case anyone needs to update their wills.”

  Axel intended to leave his possessions to Ryker. He didn’t have a wife or children, but his brother had a solid shot at a picket fence with the kids and the dog.

  There was a long stretch of grim silence before Axel continued.

  “We haven’t chosen a new road captain, so I’ll be taking on that duty, as well.” On runs, the road captain made sure the brothers stayed safe. He’d double-check the route and inspect everyone’s bikes to make sure they could handle a long ride. “If any of you are itchin’ to fill the position, let me know at the next meeting. And before we go, we have another order of business, too.” He glanced at Voodoo. “Voo and I found someone squatting in Hades, a woman named Charlie Nash.”

  “She’s a professional thief,” Voo added.

  Axel continued. “I met with her and found out she’s been working with Frost. Her father was murdered and…get this…Frost said the evidence points to Beauregard.”

  “The cops gonna do anything about it?” Justice asked.

  “Fuck no,” Axel said. “They’re sittin’ on this one.”

  “We’re gonna administer some vigilante justice then?” Shep asked, and there was an unholy gleam in his eyes. He’d been looking for an excuse to take a shot at Beauregard since he’d roughed up Pretty Boy. And who could blame him? There’d be a long line of brothers behind him eager to get some vengeance.

  “No. We tried the straight-on approach last time and it blew up in our faces. Beauregard is slippery as greased owl shit so we should use a blitz attack. Since Charlie’s a professional thief, she can crack the vault. We could pin the agent’s murder on him, since he’s the one who actually did it. If she does it right, the bastard might not even know he’s been robbed until it’s too fuckin’ late and the feds are knockin’ on his door. Any objects to the plan?”

  None of the brothers raised a hand.

  Axel glanced at Coyote. “She’s going to need your help with the security cameras.”

  Coyote cracked his knuckles. “Not a problem.”

  A hush fell over the room. Voo raised a brow and Axel could see a gleam in his VP’s eyes.

  Duke crossed his arms over his chest. “We gotta succeed this time. Beauregard hasn’t gotten nasty with us yet, but we can’t afford to poke this bear again.”

  Axel nodded. “I agree.”

  “We’re close to finding the body,” Justice said. The club figured Beauregard had placed it in the concrete at his new moonshine distillery.

  “Any idea how to get her into Beauregard’s place?” Duke asked. “It ain’t like he’s gonna invite her inside to poke around.”

  Axel grinned, a plan already formulating. “Actually, yes, he will. Beauregard said good help is hard to find…”

  ***

  That night, after Dani had gone home, Axel stayed to have a look at the Oldsmobile. He’d closed the garage doors and locked up the office so he wouldn’t be disturbed, and now it was just the two of them.

  Charlie sat on a metal stool, watching Axel scope out the car as she thought about the heist to come.

  After he’d returned from the club meeting, Axel told her Beauregard was searching for a maid. Charlie knew she could use the ruse to get into Beauregard Manor and she was already working on her spiel to get hired. Axel had also asked her to check in with one of his brothers, Coyote, about some tech assistance.

  Tomorrow morning, she’d set her plan in motion.

  Axel whistled as he circled the vehicle. It had arrived via tow truck earlier in the day, but he must’ve been too busy to take a real good look at it. Because he certainly seemed bowled over.

  “You didn’t tell me you had a vintage car.” He ran his hands along it, a grin on his lips that kept widening.

  It was black with chrome accents and a soft-top that pulled down. It even had wire wheels and fins on the backend. In short, it was a hot car and always would be, no matter how old it was.

&
nbsp; “It’s belonged to my dad.” Axel looked at her in askance. “When he went on his last job, he left her with me because she popped a tire and he was in a hurry.” Oh, the irony of it. Her father had been in a hurry to get to his own murder. “It’s a 1956 Oldsmobile Super 88 Convertible,” Charlie informed him.

  How many times had her dad said the words proudly? She’d lost count.

  “Yeah, I know the make and model,” Axel murmured, still admiring the steel.

  “So, you’re a car guy, huh?”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I love motorcycles, but I dig old cars, too. They knew how to make them back then. They weren’t cookie-cutter jobs, like the ones we have today.”

  She laughed. “You and my dad would’ve gotten along fine.”

  “Where’d he get it?” Axel looked up sharply and pulled his hand away as though it had been scorched. “He didn’t steal it, did he?”

  Charlie rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Not everything I own is stolen.” Just most of it. “He bought Betty from a used car lot when he was in his early twenties.”

  “Betty, huh?” Axel leered at the Olds again as he stroked the frame.

  She gasped in sheer sexual frustration. Someday, she wanted him to look at her that way. But she let it go and answered his question. “Yeah, my dad called her Betty, after his first love. And he used to sing that Black Betty song at the top of his lungs while he washed and waxed her.” She could still hear his off-key warbling in her head. Tears pricked her eyes, and she blinked them back. He loved nothing better than spending a sunny afternoon washing the car.

  Meanwhile, Axel continued feeling up Betty. His eyes were heavy-lidded as he caressed the back bumper.

  “You two need a moment alone?”

  He raised a wicked brow. “Maybe. Don’t suppose you’d consider selling her?”

  “Why? You in the market?”

  “Yeah, I’ve always wanted one.”

  “Too bad. You can’t have her.” Betty was a pain in the ass. Her parts were expensive, she guzzled gas, and she didn’t blend into the scenery, which sucked for a thief. And while all of those things might be true, Charlie would never part with her. Besides the St. Nicholas pendant around her neck, it was the only thing she had left of her father.

  “Can’t blame a guy for tryin’.” He opened one of the doors and grimaced. “But I can blame you for this.” He picked up a discarded fast food bag and then grabbed an old newspaper from the floorboard. “You need to take better care of her.”

  Charlie shrugged. What could she say? She’d always been a bit of a slob. “I’ll try.”

  Axel tossed the garbage in the nearby can, then raised the hood and took a look at the engine. He began fiddling around, touching this and adjusting that. After a moment, he spoke again. “For starters, it looks like you have an oil leak. You need a tune-up, an oil change.” Axel pressed a button and the machine that lifted cars in the air began to whirr as it raised Betty.

  Once Axel had the car jacked up, he stood beneath it.

  Charlie sat immobilized, unable to look away from the erotic picture he made. Axel had stripped off his coveralls earlier. Now, he wore a pair of tight jeans and a red t-shirt that had seen better days. It was streaked with motor oil and torn in places, showing patches of bare, tanned skin.

  There was something inherently sexy in watching him work with his hands. Maybe it was the confident way he handled Betty or the aura of masculinity. His brow was sweaty, his features contorted with fierce concentration. His muscles strained, becoming more sharply defined as he reached up to grab something.

  And she couldn’t help but think about his hands on her…

  It made her wonder if that’s how he’d look when he was on top of her, inside her. Would he be concentrating on her that hard? Would he grip her body as he moved her around to better suit his needs?

  Wetness began to pool between her thighs and she squeezed them shut, trying to concentrate on something else, but she couldn’t.

  Charlie shuddered at the erotic images floating through her mind. Normally, she was smooth when it came to flirting with men, keeping things light. She never stayed long in one spot and she liked having wholesome adult fun. But something about Axel made her lose her cool.

  She cleared her throat. “Do you think you can fix her?” God, she hoped that sounded normal.

  “Yeah, I don’t see anything really wrong.” He was still studying her car.

  “Thank you for doing this. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem. Here at Seventh Circle, we aim to please,” he said teasingly. And then he glanced at her and whatever he saw made his nostrils flare.

  “And what about you?” she asked, her voice had gone husky. “Do you aim to please?”

  And the temperature in the room skyrocketed.

  They both stared at one another, neither of them speaking. Charlie didn’t think she could form words at the moment. She was blitzed by visions of him bending her over the back of the car and sliding into her. A whimper may have left her lips, but she couldn’t be sure.

  Axel cleared his throat and turned from her. “I, uh, told you earlier. I don’t date.”

  Date, hell. She needed a good three minute session with him…against Betty’s bumper would do just fine. But he’d mentioned the dateless thing before and she was curious, despite herself. “Why not?”

  But he didn’t answer. An awkward, soul-sucking silence rolled between them.

  When her legs could work again, she staggered to her feet. God, she felt stupid for throwing herself at him. Again. “I, uh, should be headed back to the hotel. It’s okay if I stay at Hades, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll text Voo.” He whipped out his phone, presumably to do just that.

  “Okay. Good. Great. I should go. You know, shower, head to bed, so I can work on a plan,” she babbled. And maybe masturbate three or four times.

  “Wait,” Axel said. “I’ll take you back to the hotel. Not on the bike though,” he said roughly. “I have a sedan I put a new transmission in out back and, uh, it needs a test drive, so…”

  “No, it’s not that far.” Right now, she wanted to put some distance between them.

  “But it’s dark out,” he said, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

  “Yeah, and I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself, been doing it for years, actually,” Charlie said as she backed out of the garage.

  Then she dashed down the street before he could say another word.

  Chapter Seven

  Axel couldn’t sleep.

  He stared at the clock again. It was nearly two in the morning and he was wide awake. He’d planned on going to Seventh Circle at five. That would give him three hours if he fell asleep right that second.

  But how likely was that to happen?

  With a groan, he sat up. He stared at the massive pile of laundry surrounding his bed, threatening to take over the room. He hadn’t done laundry in weeks because he didn’t have the time. Instead, he’d been running to the general store and grabbing packs of underwear when he ran out. He had enough jeans and tees to last him a couple of months, at least.

  Sleep didn’t seem to be on the agenda and he didn’t feel like sittin’ there starin’ at the walls. Might as well get somethin’ done. Axel gathered up his dirty clothes and threw them in large trash bags. One of the things he hated about his apartment was no washer and dryer hookups. He had to haul his laundry out every week like a college kid.

  So, he tossed the bags in the back of the truck he’d borrowed earlier in the day from Hades and took off for the hotel. Voo had a laundry room on the premises that was used to wash and dry the hotel linens and towels. It was on the backside of the building, and he parked right in front of the door. He grabbed the bags out of the back end and hauled them inside.

  The laundry room had white linoleum floor flanked by a half-dozen washers and dryers, all of them industrial-sized. He found one of the washers full, already churning and filled with someo
ne’s laundry.

  Odd.

  Housekeeping worked day shift. He shrugged. Maybe one of the hellions is washing something tonight.

  Axel threw his laundry into three big washing machines and added soap from the five-gallon bucket situated on a large steel table. Then he pulled out a folding chair from the closet and sat down. He leaned back in the chair, folded his arms over his chest and listened to the hum of the fluorescent lights and the whirring of the machines around him.

  Well, this is boring as shit.

  And he had an hour or two more of this to go. Yet another reason to get more prospects. The little bastards could’ve washed, folded, and put all it away, too.

  After he’d flipped through his phone for a few minutes, curiosity provoked him to wander over to the other washer just as it stopped shaking. He opened the lid and pulled out a lacy pair of leopard panties.

  Then the door swung open and in walked Charlie. She wore a tiny black camisole and a pair of black and white cotton pajama pants. Bare feet and no bra either, judging by the jiggle.

  Hot damn.

  Her hair was sleep-tousled, like she’d just rolled out of bed. He wanted to walk her back to her room and climb back in it with her.

  Axel started to harden in his jeans. Fuck. He twisted to the side, trying to hide it. It was the only time he regretted having a large cock. Made it damn near impossible to hide an erection.

  She placed her hands on her hips, brow raised. “What is it with you and my underwear?”

  Dammit.

  He dropped and slammed the lid shut. “The washer…was making a strange noise,” he said quickly. “So, I….checked on it.” Something about her made him nervous.

  She smirked but didn’t pursue it further. Thank God. Instead, she pushed the lid up and started unloading her clothes into a nearby dryer.

  “What are you doing up so late?” he asked, moving a couple feet away so as not to crowd her.

  “I can’t sleep,” she confessed. “I thought I might as well do something useful. What about you?”