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

by C. M. Owens

  He walks over, taking a shot from Eve, who is sitting on the bar, and he tosses it back before continuing.

  “Lots of changes,” he says, staring down at the empty shot glass for a brief second. When his eyes come back up to see the quiet room, he makes a point of meeting every pair of eyes that he can.

  “Ben Mars was delivered back to his father—well, most of him.”

  A few cheers and laughter follow that, and Drex smirks.

  “Benny has abandoned Pop. He doesn’t want to be in the middle of this war anymore. He’s not the only alliance to cut strings. Pop’s men keep randomly disappearing, and we have a little songbird selling out all the traitors within our club.”

  Everyone bristles, glancing around as though they’re going to find someone with “traitor” stamped across their forehead.

  Drex crouches, looking down at the man with a bag over his head. “If you’re one of those who hasn’t been sold out yet, I suggest leaving the state before I get my hands on you,” Drex says coldly, looking back up. “It’ll be the only way to save your hide.”

  Byson—yeah, he’s sticking firm to that name—walks over and rips the bag off the man’s head. I’ve seen the guy before, but his name escapes me.

  A few hushed whispers stir as Drex takes a seat on the edge of the bar.

  “Paul here is just an example of the latest one to confess his loyalty to Pop after he was outed.”

  Paul has tears streaking down his face as he looks at the crowd, silently pleading to be saved.

  “Liza and a few others have already been dealt with. But since this is our first gathering in a couple of months, I thought it important to remind everyone here that I’m twice as dangerous as Pop. Twice as unforgiving. And twice as fucking brutal when I’m betrayed.”

  Drex hops down from the bar, moving to stand beside the gagged Paul who cries a little harder.

  “And we’ve done all this with just a handful of us and one partially psychotic ally,” Drex adds, smirking.

  Everyone looks at Jude as if compelled to do so at the mention of the partially psychotic ally. The girl standing closest to him takes several big steps back, causing me to restrain a smile as Jude rolls his eyes and drinks more of his whiskey.

  Gazes shift back to Drex as he talks again. “Imagine the hell we can rain when we’re all together again.”

  Roars of cheers follow that, men saluting Drex with their beers.

  “And, as a gift from our newest ally, we have something to give everyone. Now, normally there’s more ceremony and tradition for such a thing, but we’re breaking all the rules lately. Might as well fuck this one in the ass, too.”

  Laughter and hoots follow that, as though Drex is working the crowd. He smirks over at me before returning his attention to the numerous boxes on the ground. As he leans over and opens one, he pulls out a Death Chasers cut, and the roar of cheers almost deafens me.

  “It’s official,” Drex says as the cheers die down. “We’re official. Fuck anyone who wants to argue with that.”

  He studies the cut in his hand, a dark smile playing on his lips.

  “And fuck anyone who stays loyal to Pop after they put this on.” He turns to look at Paul, who is shuddering as tears stream down his cheeks. “Pop might kill you. But I’ll rip your spine out before I let you die.”

  Grins are the answering reaction to that.

  “Hell yeah!” one guy cheers, causing resulting chuckles to ignite.

  Barbarians—I’ll say it again. But it’s sort of grown on me.

  At least you know you lie with danger here. It’s different from the hidden dangers that lurk behind designer suits. It’s actually a little more honest and pure.

  Weird as that sounds.

  He gestures toward Jude, who puts down his drink and comes to cut Paul free.

  “Viewing room will be in the basement for anyone who wants to watch the show. Don’t want to get blood on our shiny new floors,” Drex says with a sadistic smile as Jude starts dragging a struggling Paul toward the basement door. “The rest of you line up for your fucking cuts and bring your drinks. It’s going to be a hell of a night.”

  This time when the cheers erupt, they don’t die down very quickly at all. Sledge walks up, a cut in his hand and a smile on his lips, as he hands Axle his own cut.

  “You could have told me you paid for this,” Axle tells me.

  “They’re a lot more expensive than I realized. I didn’t understand why all of you hadn’t pitched in to get some yet. Now I get it. Why don’t the members pay club fees?”

  Axle takes the cut, looking over the Death Chasers logo and name, fighting his grin. He’s like a kid with a new present at Christmas, but too cool to look like that in front of people.

  “Because we’re not a traditional club. We’re not here just for shits and giggles and the joy of riding. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re sort of criminals and need all the hands we can to stay untouchable,” he answers absently.

  When he turns it around, he freezes, staring at the Vice President patch under his name. His confused gaze swings up to Sledge then shifts to Drex as he comes to join us.

  “I don’t remember voting on this,” Axle says, his frown creasing his features.

  “We voted without you so that you didn’t vote against yourself. Pretty damn close to unanimous,” Drex says with a shrug.

  His eyes shift to Sledge. “This should be—”

  Sledge waves a dismissive hand before interrupting him. “I’m not cut out for VP. I had the wrong woman in my bed for so long that my head isn’t right yet. You’re the clear choice, kid. We all agreed on that.”

  Before Axle can try to argue again, Drake struts over, eyeing the cut in Axle’s hand. His walk is normal now—no brace and no crutches.

  “Glad to see you fuckers are finally showcasing my beautiful fucking art. I was wondering if it was just going to waste away. Now you can go back to being matching boys with no originality.”

  Drex flips him off, shaking his head.

  Drake winks at me when I grin, because I love it when he gives them hell. It’s like they all tolerate it without giving him much thought. Unique relationship, but intriguing at the same time.

  And he’s technically an outsider, which makes it all the more intriguing.

  “Rush still on duty?” Sledge asks Drex.

  “For now. Herrin’s next move would likely be something shady,” Drex says, not calling him Pop for once. “My sister would be the most obvious target if he knows where she is.”

  “You want to send him some backup?” Sledge offers.

  Drex looks over at him. “If it’d make you feel better, you’re welcome to join him. But you know as well as I do that Rush is fully capable of handling anything solo. It’s one reason I sent him. He’s the most lethal with a weapon, and the most vicious under fire.”

  “I wouldn’t discount Jude in that race,” Dash snorts. “He’s getting more vicious the longer he goes without sex. And Sarah is doing all she can to make sure his dick is a terrifying thought to any woman who steps foot inside the club.”

  My grin is huge. Not gonna lie. I find it hilarious that Sarah scares the shit out of other women who might touch her man.

  “I want that sort of power. I really need to learn to shoot,” Eve says on a sigh as she joins Drex at his side, and his arm drops around her shoulders as he kisses the top of her head.

  Sledge laughs under his breath.

  “The trick is to be really crazy in front of people,” I tell her. “You don’t have to know how to shoot; you just have to show people your inner psycho and hide all the sweet stuff behind closed doors.”

  She gives me a thoughtful look.

  “I don’t have a whole lot of psycho to show,” Eve finally says.

  “I can totally give you lessons,” I offer.

  Drex groans as Axle turns his head, his body shaking with silent laughter.

  But Eve just gives me a conspiratorial grin. “I’ll take yo
u up on that as long as I don’t have to learn to skate.”

  “You need your own gimmick. Skating around corpses is mine.”

  “I think I’ll party with my girl over there before your girl gets her hands on her,” Drex says to Axle, tugging Eve away as he guides her toward the rest of the party.

  Cuts are still being handed out, everyone looking for their own names. It’s a good day for the Death Chasers.

  They’ve fought like hell for a good day.

  The others break off to join the party as well, leaving me alone with Axle as he pulls on his cut. It fits him well, even though it needs a little breaking in.

  “I want you shirtless with just that cut on later tonight,” I tell him as I wag my eyebrows.

  He smirks as he lifts me suddenly, and I try not to giggle like an idiot—because I’m supposed to be a psycho and all that—as he puts me down on the bar and steps in between my legs.

  When his lips find mine, I wrap my legs around his waist, kissing him like I’m claiming him in front of everyone. He kisses me just as hard, gripping my ass and pulling me closer.

  “I changed my mind,” I murmur against his lips. “I vote we skip the party and party by ourselves in your room upstairs.”

  Grinning against my lips, he lifts me, and…then throws me over his shoulder.

  Huffing out a breath of defeat, I flop around over the barbarian’s shoulder, letting him haul me toward his cave before he clubs me over the head to keep me.

  Then I grin.

  Because, well, obviously I’m a little crazy.

  And so is he.

  And everyone loves a little crazy.

  THE END

  Adrenaline Rush is coming next for the Death Chasers MC Series. Rush’s story.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  C.M. Owens is a USA Today Bestselling author of over 30 novels. She always loves a good laugh, and lives and breathes the emotions of the characters she becomes attached to. Though she came from a family of musicians, she has zero abilities with instruments, sounds like a strangled cat when she sings, and her dancing is downright embarrassing. Just ask anyone who knows her. Her creativity rests solely in the written word. Her family is grateful that she gave up her quest to become a famous singer.

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