Jaxon (Heartlands Motorcycle Club Book 5)

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Jaxon (Heartlands Motorcycle Club Book 5) Page 3

by Olivia T. Turner


  I lean back on the beer fridge and cross my arms over my chest. “Why would I need one of those?”

  “To hold you at night. Make you coffee in bed. Make your back arch. Run you a bath. Make you see God. I can go on…”

  “Oh, are you still talking?” I ask with a grin. “I tuned you out a while ago.”

  Nixie giggles beside him.

  “What are you laughing at?” he asks her.

  “She’s not interested, Uncle J.” I smile at the cute girl who’s shaking her head. She’s cute but dead wrong.

  “How do you know?” Jaxon asks her. “Maybe she’s playing hard to get.”

  “Stella is impossible to get,” Roxanne says as she dumps strawberry ice cream into the blender. “She doesn’t want to date anyone, even though she thinks you’re really cute.”

  His sexy eyes fall back onto me as he grins.

  God, that grin…

  “Oh, she does?” he says as he wipes a hand over his bearded chin. “I think she’s cute too. Very cute.”

  Nixie is still shaking her head as she eats her fries. “You’re hopeless.”

  “What?” he says to her. “I think I’m doing pretty good.”

  Roxanne shoots her hand up like she’s in the first row at primary school. “Me too!”

  “She’s not from the 1920s, Jaxon,” Nixie says with a frown. “This is 2020. Women don’t want ogre men who will grab and harass them. They want partners who challenge their intellect and grow alongside them.”

  “It would be a challenge not to grow long and hard around this beauty,” Jaxon says as his eyes travel up my tingling body.

  Nixie rolls her eyes.

  “You can’t be serious,” I say to him. “Was that actually supposed to work?”

  It totally worked.

  “Maybe,” he says. “Is it working?”

  “Kind of working on me over here,” Roxanne says. She turns the blender on with no cap on the jar and strawberry milkshake flies all over her.

  Roxanne just told him she’s interested and even though she’s covered in strawberry milkshake, she’s still a knockout. But he doesn’t even look at her. He has no eyes for Roxanne. They’re glued onto me.

  “Of course, it’s not working,” Nixie says, looking more and more frustrated as this goes on. “Ask her about her feelings. Her dreams. Her fears and goals.”

  He leans a little closer on the bar and gives me a smile that makes my knees knock. “What do you dream of?”

  You, from now on.

  “Jaxon!” Troy shouts from the table. “We need your input on this.”

  He licks his lips as he stands back up and I already feel a sense of loss, just knowing he’s about to leave.

  “This isn’t finished,” he says with a sexy grin before he turns and leaves.

  I wonder if he can hear my heart pounding. I wonder if the whole bar can.

  “That’s my Uncle J,” Nixie says as she dips a fry into her ketchup. “He’s a caveman but he’s got a good heart.”

  “He’s got a lot of other good things too,” Roxanne says as she shamelessly stares Jaxon down.

  Nixie gives her a fierce look and Roxanne quickly disappears into the back.

  “He’s single, you know?” Nixie says to me when it’s just the two of us.

  “Oh,” I say as my heart does a little flutter. “But, I didn’t ask.”

  “You didn’t have to,” she says as she takes the last slurping sip of her strawberry milkshake. “It was written all over your face.”

  Chapter Four

  Jaxon

  “The Outlaws are holed up in Bakersfield, which is two towns over,” Troy says as we sit around the table, continuing the meeting. “They’re sure to have more security now after the hit.”

  “They better have an army with them,” Killian says as he rolls his neck from side to side.

  Chain is rubbing his beard as he listens. “So, what’s the plan?”

  “We go in there,” Troy says, “with guns blazing. We take our shit back and we take our pride back.”

  “Yeah!” the boys start cheering as they slam fists on the table and get all worked up.

  I try not to laugh as I look at my brother’s stone-cold face. I know this guy too well.

  “Bad plan,” Beckham grunts.

  The cheering stops as everyone turns to him with shocked faces.

  “You have a better idea?” Gage snarls at him.

  Troy puts his hand on Gage’s flexed forearm like an owner trying to calm down his growling pit-bull. “Let him talk.”

  “If we storm the place,” Beckham says in a flat voice, “it gets messy.”

  “This shit is already messy,” Saint says as he looks around at the busted up bar.

  “So, what do you suggest?” Troy asks.

  Beckham’s expression remains flat. “Me and my brother go in. Alone. And we take care of it.”

  The guys start laughing, but Beckham is anything but joking right now. He’s deadly serious.

  “You guys are going to handle the entire crew?” Gage says, staring at him in disbelief.

  “Yes.”

  I can’t help but laugh at all of the incredulous looks around the table while my brother just sits there like a cyborg. I swear, if Arnold Schwarzenegger ever wants to quit The Terminator franchise, my brother Beckham would make an excellent replacement. He wouldn’t even have to act. He could just be himself.

  Troy turns to me and sighs. “Is he serious?”

  I shrug as I grin at him. “Isn’t that why you brought us over here? To take care of it?”

  “I brought you to help,” Troy says. “But let’s be clear. This is a Heartlands Seneca problem and we’re going to be the solution.”

  “Whatever you say,” I answer with another shrug.

  They continue the meeting, but my focus shifts to the gorgeous girl who just walked into the bar. Stella has been running through my mind all morning since I saw her sitting on the porch outside.

  This girl is stunning.

  She shoots me a shy glance as she walks behind the bar and I suck in a breath as I keep my eyes glued to her.

  It’s hot today in the Nevada sun and she’s starting to get a little sweat going that’s just making her even more irresistible.

  Her long black hair is pulled back into a ponytail and the dark contrast of it makes her green eyes shine like jade jewels. They’re hypnotizing. I can’t look away.

  I follow her with my eyes as she walks over to the jukebox by the far wall. She bends over to start cleaning up the broken glass and shattered records, and I let out a low growl when I see the beautiful curve of her ass in those cut-off jean shorts.

  My cock hardens as I imagine what it would be like to rip them to pieces and slide my hand between her legs, feeling the heat, feeling the wetness. Oh, fuck…

  I want her.

  Not just for a night. Not just for a quick screw. Forever.

  I want her to be my Old Lady. I want her to be the one.

  “So, we’ll wait until your friends from California deliver the guns,” Troy says, jerking me out of my daze. “And then we’ll make those pussy Outlaws regret ever stepping foot into Seneca.”

  Troy and Gage get up, signaling that the meeting is over.

  I dart out of my seat and head straight for my girl.

  She’s trying to hold back a smile as I kneel beside her. The sight of her lips all puckered up like that sends an ache shooting through my throbbing cock.

  “Are you here to help me clean or are you here to sexually harass me again?” she asks with a grin.

  “I’m here for you, princess. Whatever you want.”

  “And if I want you to leave?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.

  “Not going to happen,” I answer as I inch a little closer to her. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

  “So, you’re my stalker now?”

  “Stalker. Protector. Admirer. Lover. Take your pick.”

  She laughs and s
hakes her head as she picks up a broken record. I gently grab her wrist and turn her hand so I can see the label on it.

  “CCR,” I say with a shake of my head. “That’s a shame. A true casualty of war.”

  She pulls her hand away from me and tosses the broken record into the garbage. “I know it’s stupid, but I loved this old thing. You don’t see enough jukeboxes these days as far as I’m concerned.”

  “They’re all good until you get some asshole playing Justin Bieber all night.”

  Stella laughs and the sweet sound seizes my core and clenches it.

  I can’t stop looking at this girl. She’s perfect in every way.

  I can feel the obsession already growing. I want to know everything about her.

  Why is she working in a place like this? She’s too innocent to be here, surrounded by rough men like these guys. I just want to pick her up and take her away. Keep her locked up somewhere safe. Somewhere only I can get to her.

  It’s making me all jittery with an itchy feeling to know that any of these guys can just lay their eyes on her whenever they want. I don’t want them looking at my sweet innocent little princess. She’s mine alone to look at.

  “So, does Nixie live with you and Beckham?” she asks as I start helping her clean up.

  “Yeah. We moved into my sister’s old house after she died and we’ve been raising the girl ever since.”

  “It must be hard,” she says with a look of sympathy.

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “She’s an amazing kid. Smarter than me and Beckham put together.”

  “I can see that.”

  “I was kidding,” I say with a look and she laughs. “But it’s still been hard for her. Her mother was an amazing woman and I just wish she had a feminine role model to look up to. The girls that hang around the club aren’t usually the best influence.”

  “Yeah,” she says with a sigh. “I can see that.”

  I want to tell Stella that she’s different. That she’s not like that at all. That I would be honored for Nixie to look up to a girl like her, but I just keep my mouth shut instead. I’m worried I’m going to scare this little beauty off with the intensity of my feelings.

  I’ve always been the passionate one of us Hader boys. My high emotions have gotten me in trouble before. Reckless, my mother used to call me. Impulsive. A hot-head.

  I don’t know about all that. All I know is when I see something I like, I go for it with everything I have, and right now, I’m liking Stella. Very much.

  “Sometimes I think it would be best for the three of us to get a change of scenery,” I tell her. “To start over somewhere new.”

  Her eyes dart up to mine and she’s looking at me with interest. “Really?”

  “Yeah,” I tell her. “Can you think of a good place?”

  She drops her eyes and smiles as she picks up another broken record.

  That fucking smile… It takes everything I have not to grab her chin and pull those sexy lips to mine. It’s all I can think about.

  “I think you would like Canada,” she says, teasing me. “You should go live with the Inuits.”

  “I’ll live in an igloo if you come with me,” I tell her and I mean it. “I’d trade in my motorcycle for a dog sled if it meant having your arms wrapped around me.”

  “It would beat this summer heat,” she says as she wipes the sweat off her face.

  My heart stops when I see the darkness surrounding her right eye. It was covered in make-up, but she just smudged it off.

  I grab her chin, maybe a little too hard because she whimpers, and turn her face.

  “What is that?” I ask as I lick my thumb and wipe the foundation covering her black eye. “Who did this to you?”

  The rage builds inside as I wait for her answer. My pulse is pounding in my ears. My throat is dry. Adrenaline is surging through my veins, making me all edgy and twitchy. I need to find the man who did this to her like I need to breathe.

  He hurt my princess. He hurt what’s mine.

  It snaps inside me. That possessive feeling. That need to own this girl and make her my Old Lady.

  I’m coming off like a dominant alpha gorilla, but I don’t care. She’s going to get to know my primal side really well in the upcoming years. I’m feeling practically feral when it comes to protecting this girl.

  Stella drops her eyes, embarrassed, ashamed.

  The fury just increases inside me. I squeeze my hands into fists as I look at her and dream of my vengeance. I’m going to put a bullet in the forehead of the man who did this.

  “Who was it? Was it a boyfriend?”

  “No!” she says as her eyes dart up to mine. “I’m not with anyone.”

  “Then who?” I say as I look around with my whole body flexed. “Was it one of these guys?”

  I’m looking around, wondering which one I get to kill when I feel her soft hand on my arm. It soothes me. Instantly.

  I turn to her with my heart still hammering, but at least I’m able to breathe.

  “It happened last night,” she says in a low voice. “I was working here when The Outlaws came in.”

  “You were here?!” I ask with a rock in my throat. My stomach flips inside out. My girl was here when this happened? And they hit her?

  They’re fucking dead men. All of them.

  I take a deep breath and try to calm my nerves. “Which one struck you?” I ask slowly.

  She bites her bottom lip, not wanting to rat the guy out, but when she sees the intensity in my face, she opens up like a good girl. “It was The Outlaws’ President. Gunner. I read his name and title on his cut.”

  I burst to my feet and then she does too.

  “What are you doing?” she asks in a panic.

  “Can you watch Nixie?” I ask her. “Take her to your place and I’ll pick her up after.”

  “After what?” she asks as she clings onto my arm and doesn’t let go. “Where are you going?”

  If this was any other moment, I’d be focused on the soft feel of her skin on mine, but the need for vengeance is crowding everything else out.

  “Jaxon,” she says with a panicked look on her face. “Tell me where you’re going.”

  “To make things right.”

  I give her one last look and then charge away from her, heading straight to Beckham. “Let’s go. Now.”

  He knows better than to question me when I’m like this, so he puts down his beer and follows me to our bikes.

  “Hey, guys!” the bouncer Bulldog says as we pass him. “Can I just say again that it’s great to have you—”

  “Where is Bakersfield?” I ask, interrupting his ass-kissing.

  I listen to the directions and then hop on the bike as Beckham looks at me funny. He grabs my handlebar and I turn to him with a huff.

  “What?”

  “We got Nixie now.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” I snap back.

  I want to tell him that there’s another girl in our lives now. One that I would do anything for. One that needs me to make this right. But I just start my bike and roll out.

  He follows me all the way to Bakersfield.

  “We should scout the place first,” Beckham says. “Know what we’re walking into.”

  I know what I’m walking into. Revenge.

  He grabs my arm, forcing me to look at him.

  “I mean it, Jaxon. Things have changed since Beannie died. We’re responsible for Nixie. I don’t want to let her down by getting killed.”

  “I don’t want that either,” I say as I swallow down my rage. I finally start to get my wrecked nerves under control as the light turns green. “Okay. Let’s just take a look. We’re already here.”

  We ride over to The Outlaws’ clubhouse and hang back a safe distance away.

  There are too many of them. And they’re all on high alert.

  I could do this with my brother, but it would have to be at night when they’re not expecting an attack.

  And I want t
o make sure this Gunner fucker is there before I charge in. He’s the only one I have a hard on for. He’s the only one I want dead.

  “Okay?” Beckham asks after we’ve gotten a long look.

  I grit my teeth and force out a breath. “Okay. Let’s go back.”

  The time will come to make that piece of shit pay for touching my girl, but unfortunately, it’s not today.

  We ride by with our engines roaring, and I can’t help myself.

  I pull out my gun and fire five shots into their clubhouse sign. The Outlaws is now scattered with bullet holes.

  “What the hell was that?” Beckham asks when we turn the corner.

  “A warning,” I say as I slide my gun back into my jeans. “That I’m coming for them.”

  “We’re coming for them,” Beckham corrects.

  “Fine. But the President is mine.”

  Chapter Five

  Stella

  “How come you don’t have any friends?” I ask Nixie as I hand her the popcorn. We’re at my apartment hanging out after dinner while we wait for her uncles to pick her up.

  “I’m friends with my teacher,” she says as she tosses a popped kernel into her mouth. “We have the most interesting discussions about philosophy and the arts during recess.”

  “You don’t play with the other kids?”

  She looks at me like I just suggested she should go play with a pack of wild wolves. “They’re neanderthals. A boy in my class had to go to the hospital because he cut his tongue while licking the slide. The slide! How can I play with those barbarians?”

  I have to fight back my smile as I watch her change the channel from the cartoon I put on to CSPAN.

  “You’re an old soul, you know that?”

  She sighs. “So, I’ve been told.”

  We chat about school and her hobbies a bit more (Nixie likes reading Greek mythology, watching classic cinema, and painting toenails), and then I start to worm the conversation over to Jaxon as we paint each other’s toes a bright purple.

  “You don’t have to do this,” she says abruptly.

  “What?” I ask with a nervous laugh.

  “Be coy with me. Beat around the bush. Pretend that you’re not trying to get information about my uncle.”

 

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