Axe's Fall: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 4)

by Chiah Wilder

  “It’s someone you know. Just have to figure out who. No way this shit is random.”

  “The anniversary of my mother’s death is soon,” she said softly. “I have a sick feeling the killer is waiting until then to strike. I’m scared, but I don’t want to be a victim.”

  Axe held her close. “I promise you I’m gonna find the sonofabitch and make sure he pays for every tear he’s made you shed, and for every dark shadow he’s planted in your brain.”

  An hour later, they were back at the hotel. Baylee searched the lobby for Puck, but he was nowhere to be seen. Joy filled her.

  “You coming up?” she asked as she waited for the elevator.

  He nuzzled her hair. “Yeah. I’m spending the night. You good with that?” She nodded. “And not on some fucking couch.”

  She giggled. “I gave up on that plan a while back.”

  When she opened her door, she scanned the room. She’d fallen into the habit of searching it ever since someone had broken in. Sure no one unwanted had come in, she pivoted and snaked her arms around Axe’s neck.

  “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me, too, babe. I belong here with you in my arms.”

  “You’re sweet.” She kissed his chin. “I’m beat. Long day with a lot of emotions. I’m gonna change.”

  When she came out of the bathroom, Axe was already under the covers, the TV barely audible.

  “Come here, sweetheart.”

  She molded herself against him, his arms holding her tightly. He ran his fingers through her hair as he watched the TV screen, the lights flickering in the dark room. Each time he stroked her hair, her limbs loosened, and her mind recalled a comforting, loving memory from her past—her mother brushing her hair before bedtime.

  Baylee snuggled deeper in to Axe, content to be back in his arms.

  * * *

  The morning sun spilled into the rooms, forcing Baylee’s eyelids open. She squinted against the intruder, too lazy to leave the warmth of Axe’s body to close the curtains.

  He yawned. “Fuck, it’s bright in here.”

  “I forgot to pull the curtains last night. Sorry.” She buried her head against him.

  “What’s the time?”

  “Too early,” she said into his side.

  Chuckling, he rose from the bed and grabbed his phone. “Damn. I gotta go. We got church.”

  Peeking out from between the fingers over her eyes, she asked, “You want me to relieve that?”

  He squinted, looking down. “Would love it, but I gotta go. I’m already gonna be late, and I’m not even dressed.”

  “Not into quickies?”

  “With you, babe? Never.” He hovered over her, bending down to kiss her.

  “What do you want for breakfast? I’m going to order room service. I can’t figure out the coffee machine.”

  He laughed. “The coffee machine has you stumped? Nothing for me. I don’t have time. I gotta haul ass.”

  As he showered, she ordered a pot of black coffee. Axe came out with a white towel tucked around his waist, small drops from his wet hair trickling down his bronzed chest. Baylee rubbed against him and licked the drops off him. A growl passed through his lips.

  “You keep teasing me and I’m gonna have to spank you, babe.”

  “That’s what I’m planning on.”

  “Fuck, you make me want to skip church and spend the day fucking you.”

  “Sounds good.”

  He yanked her head back and slammed his mouth to hers, their tongues twisting and lashing together. With a frustrated sigh, he pulled back. “Later on, okay? Fuck. You don’t know how this is killin’ me.”

  She feigned a pout, then sat on the chair, tucking her legs under her. “When you were in the shower, I was thinking about all the crap that’s happening to me, and I decided to call the police. I have the text messages, so I have the proof now.”

  Putting his jeans on, Axe stopped midway. “Are you crazy? No fuckin’ badges.”

  “Why not? Isn’t that what people do? They call the police when someone threatens their life.”

  “We don’t. We take care of our own.” He zipped up his jeans.

  “I’m not a part of your world. I’ll feel better if I call the police.”

  Axe gave her a hard look. “You are so damned stubborn, woman. The badges aren’t gonna do shit. You have to either be attacked or killed before they do anything. In my world, we don’t sit around and wait, we act.”

  Baylee averted her gaze, shrugging. She wanted to believe he could make everything all right with her, but she’d still feel better if the cops were involved. After she arrived at the office, she’d call the police—it couldn’t hurt.

  “After church, I got some work to do. I’ll send Puck over.” Axe scrubbed the side of his face. “Fuck. I forgot about you gettin’ to work.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be okay driving alone. It’s only ten minutes away.”

  “A lot of shit can happen in ten minutes.” He tapped his fingers against his lips. “I’ll have to be late for church. I’ll send a text.”

  Baylee watched him, her eyes lit with an inner glow.

  “Don’t just sit there smiling, woman. Go get ready. I’m gonna catch enough shit for not being on time.”

  Twenty-five minutes later, the Harley jerked to a stop.

  “Thanks for taking me.” Baylee gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “I’m making sure you get to your office okay.” He held her elbow and tugged her into the building.

  When they walked into her office, an arrangement of wildflowers and baby’s breath in a country basket greeted her.

  “Where the fuck did those come from?” Axe asked as he surveyed the room.

  She saw his eyes land on the bouquet of roses she’d placed on the table a few days before.

  She shrugged, set her briefcase on the desk, and pulled out her laptop from its case. As she plugged it in, she watched Axe open the card out of the corner of her eye.

  “He wants in your pussy so bad, the piece of shit,” he gritted.

  “Who?”

  “Mr. Fuckface Palmer Rodgers, the motherfucker.”

  She blushed.

  “Why’re you turning red? You want something with this asshole?” Axe’s expression tightened.

  Shaking her head, she said, “No. I already told you I didn’t, like, a dozen times. I’m not interested in him. It’s just that a girl likes to receive pretty flowers. At least, I do. It makes me smile. Nothing more than that.”

  “Is that all it takes to get into your panties?”

  “No one’s getting into my panties unless I let him and, for now, I’m letting you.” She smiled sweetly and looked at her computer screen.

  Axe clenched his jaw. “You got the permits, so no reason to see the asshole again.”

  Looking up from her keyboard, she leaned forward, her elbows on the desk. “Is that a request or an order?”

  “Take it whatever way you want, but your contact with the motherfucker ended today. I told you before, I don’t like sharing, especially when it comes to things that belong to me.”

  Before she could answer, he was at her side, pulling her to her feet. He took hungry possession of her mouth, his tongue slipping in through her parted lips. She moaned and leaned in to him, her arms circling his neck.

  He pulled back, looked intently into her eyes, and whispered, “And you, sweetheart, definitely belong to me. Don’t ever doubt it.”

  Then he was gone. Baylee stood in the doorway, staring at him as he swaggered along the corridor. Before he exited the lobby, he looked over his shoulder and winked at her, put on his sunglasses, and left the building.

  Baylee touched her lips, the intense current that was always between them hot under her fingertips. Her insides were still tingling from his kiss and declaration that she was his. That was what he said, wasn’t it? He said she belonged to him. Do I want to belong to him? Hell yeah, I do.

  She smiled then looked at
the flowers, wishing they were from Axe. She picked up the phone and buzzed Tina.

  “Would you like to have the flowers in my office? I’m allergic to them.”

  “The beautiful ones that came this morning?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d love to. I’ll be right down.”

  “You can also have the roses.”

  “Thank you.”

  Focusing her attention back on her computer, Baylee smiled when her phone pinged, anxious to see what Axe had written.

  Unknown: You cannot escape me.

  Baylee’s stomach shot to the floor. She glanced around the room, went over to the window, and looked out. Everything seemed normal, like any other day.

  Baylee: Stop it!

  Unknown: Why? Aren’t you enjoying our little game?

  Baylee: I don’t remember anything. My mind is still foggy. Leave me alone!

  Unknown: It’s not that simple.

  She sat at her desk, stunned. The psycho enjoyed taunting her, and he was trying to drive her over the edge.

  Unknown: You look pretty in your white dress.

  Baylee threw the phone across her desk, glancing down at her white linen dress. He wanted her to know he was aware of her every move, and it didn’t matter if Puck or Axe were with her—he was in control.

  Baylee picked up the phone and called the police, who basically told her what Axe had—there was nothing they could do at that point. No crime had been committed and, as far as she knew, it could be a crackpot with nothing better to do than taunt her.

  Axe had been right—the police weren’t going to help her. She’d rely on Axe and his club, and on herself, to beat the killer. With tightened fists and a set jaw, Baylee agreed with Axe.

  The asshole just declared war.

  Chapter Twenty

  Axe sat on the ripped vinyl chair and listened to the squeaky click of the oscillating fan on top of a scratched filed cabinet. The portly gentleman behind the paper-strewn desk spit as he spoke on the phone, his fingers drumming on the desk every few seconds.

  The man looked at Axe and rolled his eyes while he pointed at the phone, shaking his head. Axe tilted his chin. He’d hoped this guy could help him. Cara said she used him for most of her cases, that he was a top-notch private investigator. Coming to the PI’s office was huge for Axe since he didn’t like asking for help outside the club, but he figured he needed someone experienced in investigations. The moment the killer revealed he knew Axe was involved, that was when Axe decided to bring in someone who wasn’t in the Insurgents.

  The slam of the receiver startled Axe, and he looked up into the man’s crinkled face. The PI extended his stubby-fingered hand. “Dean Wesley.” His voice sounded like he’d been smoking for a long time.

  “Axe.” He shook back, then wiped his hands on his jeans.

  “Sorry for the sweat. Fuckin’ air conditioning never works. All that damn fan is doing is circulating hot air.” Dean wiped his face with a tissue. Reclining in his chair, he smiled. “What can I do for ya?”

  “I need some information about someone who’s stalking my woman.”

  “Okay. Do you know who it is?”

  “I’m sure it’s the fucker who killed her mother years ago.”

  Dean whistled. “Was he caught and released?”

  “Never caught. It’s a cold case, but he’s in Pinewood scaring the shit outta her. He’s aiming to kill her.”

  Axe explained the whole situation to Dean, who took notes on a legal pad. After he was finished, he looked at the PI and asked, “Can you help with this? Cara said you’re gold.”

  Dean laughed as he wiped the sweat from his face again. “She’s a nice lady. Pretty, too. I can try to find out who he is, ask some questions. He must’ve had someone do his dirty work at the hotel. I want to find out who let someone in your girlfriend’s room, so I’ll need to get in there. Chances are high the room’s been bugged.”

  “I’ve thought the same thing. I’m one step ahead, though. I changed Baylee’s room.”

  “Good move. I still want in there. I can stop by today. Is there any chance your girl can stay at your place?”

  “She won’t go for it, but if things get too intense, I’ll insist she stay at the clubhouse.”

  “No doubt the stalker is using burner phones to contact her. They’re hard to trace ‘cause a person doesn’t need to sign anything to get the phone. A true cash-and-carry transaction. Everyone thinks calls from pre-paid can’t be traced, but they can. Calls made on burners are generally transmitted over existing networks. I can check the records of the towers around the areas when the correspondences were received.” Dean finished his bottled water in one long drink.

  “Cara’s on board with getting whatever you need.”

  “She’s a great gal. Pretty, too, but I already said that, didn’t I?”

  Axe nodded.

  “Cara can get the subpoenas I’ll need. I’ll keep you updated, but since this guy probably has someone tailing you—”

  “No one’s following me. Believe me, I’d know it.”

  “Yeah, you coming from the biker world gives you a real edge here. The guy’s probably got some high-powered binoculars. It’s best we meet away from Pinewood.”

  “You can come to the clubhouse. It’s secluded, and we know exactly what’s down.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Is your girlfriend gonna pay for the services? I ask for fifty percent down, and the balance after the job’s done.”

  “I’m picking it up,” Axe said.

  They finalized the price for the investigation, and Axe left the office. Having Dean Wesley on the job eased some of the pressure he’d been feeling the past few days. When he sat in the PI’s stuffy, suffocating office, he realized he couldn’t lose Baylee. He wanted to keep her close to him, but he didn’t know how she felt about him. In less than five weeks, she’d no longer need to be in Pinewood Springs; she’d be able to work virtually from Denver. But Axe didn’t want to think about Baylee leaving.

  As he straddled his Harley, ready to switch on the ignition, his phone rang. Unable to see the screen because of the sun’s glare, he answered.

  “Yep.”

  “Hi, Michael. This is your mother.”

  He cursed under his breath. “What do you want?”

  “I want to know how you are and—”

  “I’m good. I’m in a hurry. I have something I gotta do.”

  “We never talk. You can give me a few minutes.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “I’d love to see you. You rarely come around anymore. I’m getting married—”

  “What’ll he be? Number six?”

  “I just had bad luck. You’ll like him. He’s so good to me, and he’s rich. His name is—”

  “Save it, I don’t wanna know. I gotta go.”

  “Wait! You’re coming to the wedding, aren’t you?”

  “No.”

  “You have to come. You’re my only child, and I want you there.”

  “It’s bullshit, and I’m not wasting my time. Gotta go.”

  “You have to come. I could die, and then you’d be sorry you didn’t come.”

  “Don’t lay that guilt trip on me. I’m not a kid anymore, it doesn’t work.”

  “Okay, but remember that you and me are all we have. You have my blood in you. We’re all we got.” She sniffled. “Please? I want my son with me at my wedding. Can you just think about it?”

  Axe clenched his jaw. Whenever his mom wanted him to do something, she’d start the ‘family blood’ shit, and if that didn’t work, she’d throw in some sniffles and tears. That got to him every time. He should’ve just told her to fuck off, that she’d been a selfish, shitty mom and he was done, but he never did. He’d freeze her out for a time, but he’d never cut ties with her completely. He couldn’t do it.

  “Okay, I’ll think about it,” he gritted. “Will you let me get off the fuckin’ phone now?”

  She chortled and blew her nose. “Th
ank you, honey. You’ve made me so happy. I thought it’d be nice if you, me, and Stephen go out to dinner before the wedding. I want you to meet him.”

  “No way. You got me thinking about coming to your hook-up. Don’t push it. You know it isn’t gonna last, anyway.”

  “This time, it’s different.”

  “I’ve heard that five times before. Whatever. Do you know where Uncle Max has been? I’ve been trying to get a hold of him for a couple of weeks.”

  “I saw him the other day. He told me he has to go out of town on some business, but he’d be back in time for my wedding.”

  “What business?”

  “He didn’t say. Why?”

  “I need to talk to him. Gotta go.”

  “I know. I’ll see you at the wedding in two weeks. Bye, dear.”

  He grunted then hung up. Fuck! If I go to the sham wedding, at least I can talk to Uncle Max. The more Axe thought about his uncle being where Baylee was, the more convinced he was that the man was involved. Axe had done the math, and his uncle was in Denver around the same time Baylee’s mother was killed.

  * * *

  Hawk received the confirmation from their brothers down south: the Skull Crushers were dealing meth in Insurgents’ territory. Steel had told Hawk they were starting shit on his turf in Puebla, and he and his brothers were preparing for a war.

  “We think there’s only three of them. It’s like they’re scouting the area to see how far they can go,” Banger said.

  “They didn’t get far last night. I threw them outta Dream House then me, Rags, and Jax beat the shit out of ‘em.” Rock put his fist in the air as his brothers congratulated him and the other two for keeping scum out of the gentleman’s club the Insurgents owned.

  “They need to be taught respect,” Banger said, his blue eyes blocks of ice.

  The other members nodded and sounded their agreement.

  “We need to show them to stay the fuck outta Insurgents’ territory. These fuckers are the tip of the iceberg. We gotta stop it now. I’m sending Jerry, Axe, Puck, PJ, Rags, and Chas to confront them tonight. Make sure they can never do this shit again.”

  After church, the brothers shuffled out to the great room to eat the barbecue buffet Banger had brought in from the club’s restaurant.