by Jayne Blue
Axle slid into the booth, taking the seat facing the doorway. I sat opposite him. The waitress, a middle-aged woman with a plump, kind face and big brown hair that she wore in an out-of-style bouffant, came with our coffees.
“You want your usual?” she asked Axle. Sliding his cup closer, Axle nodded.
“What about you, honey?”
“He says the waffles are something special. I’ll have an order of those,” I answered.
“Good choice. Gimme a few minutes and I’ll have it right out.” She shot a familiar wink toward Axle that unsettled me for some reason. Clearly, she was used to him being here. I wondered how many other women he’d brought to this exact booth and a strange twinge of jealousy burned through me. I poured creamer in my coffee and blew over the top before taking a sip.
“So what are you doing here, Maya?” Axle said, leaning back in his booth. Texas born and bred, Axle pronounced my name as if it had one syllable. He draped one arm casually over the back of the booth and ran his thumb along the handle of his coffee mug.
The question took me off guard. Setting my own cup back into the saucer, I swallowed the hot liquid and tried to formulate an answer. “You mean in Port Azrael in general, or here at this diner with you?”
The corner of Axle’s mouth flickered with a hint of a smile. It thrilled me. He shrugged and looked out the window before answering.
“I guess both. But I meant in Port Az. It’s not a place most people choose. You’re either raised here, or you just end up here on the way to someplace else.”
“Is that your story? You were raised here?”
Something hard went through Axle’s eyes as if he remembered something painful. I felt the strongest urge to reach for him and try to smooth the lines on his forehead.
“I was born here, yeah,” he finally answered. It seemed deliberate that he changed the word “raised” to “born.”
“So your whole family is still in Port Azrael?”
He looked at me dead on and his eyes narrowed. He could send a chill through me with just that flicker in his eyes. Again, my eyes were drawn to the “enforcer” patch on his breast.
“My club is my family.”
I took another sip of coffee. The way he uttered that sentence, it felt like the slamming of a door. I didn’t pry.
“What about yours?” he asked.
Even as he did, I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. It had to be my mother or Josh again. “Mine are back in Monroe, Michigan,” I answered. “I came here to go to school. I take classes at TAMCCU.”
Axle’s face finally softened. “College girl.” It almost sounded naughty the way he said it and that familiar heat flared through me. It seemed to invoke the second meaning for his initial question. What was I doing here with him? I knew the answer, but I wasn’t bold enough to share it. I was here because this man drew me in. But what was I to him?
“That’s me,” I answered. “That’s why Cups has been such a boon for me. I’ve never earned so much money in such a short time in my life. I’m saving to get a place of my own. In a year I’m hoping to transfer to the main campus.”
“What are you going to be when you grow up, Maya Ballard?”
There was soft humor in his tone and I resisted the urge to remind him I already was grown. But it would be a lie to pretend I knew exactly what I was doing where he was concerned. Before I could answer, our waitress came back and set down our plates filled with heaping stacks of flaky, golden waffles dusted with powdered sugar. Axle thanked her, then reached across the table for the maple syrup. I did the same when he was finished with it and it gave us both a reprieve from the probing questions I knew we each had on our minds.
There was something deliciously wicked about watching Axle Hart wolf down a plate of waffles. His tongue darted out to catch the syrup and it sent my hormones into overdrive. I did my level best to focus on the plate of food in front of me but as he watched me, I knew the same thought crossed his mind too. It was a dance. Each of us wanted something else from the other in addition to the food and the conversation. I wanted it so badly my legs quivered just sitting across the table from him. Every sensible bone in my body told me I was in over my head with this guy. He wasn’t the type to play it safe.
“You were right,” I finally said. “These are the best waffles I’ve ever tasted. Definitely worth the ride out here.”
He set his fork down with a clang and settled back in his seat before fixing those penetrating dark eyes back to mine.
“So what about you? You didn’t answer my question. What do you want to be when you grow up?”
Smiling, I knew the coy routine wouldn’t work with him. I sat back in the booth and crossed my legs. “I’m not sure. I suppose I should be since I ran so far away from home.” The minute I said the word “ran,” I wanted to swallow it back. It wasn’t lost on Axle and I realized nothing had been since the moment he laid eyes on me.
“And why was that? Did somebody hurt you?” Axle leaned forward. The casual posture he’d held vanished and tension went through him. Again, my eyes were drawn to the “enforcer” patch on his vest.
“It’s complicated,” I said, giving the most honest and yet evasive answer I could. “I’ve got a big family and I just needed some distance. You see, nobody ever leaves the Ballard family.”
“How big?”
I downed the last of my coffee and waved the waitress away when she offered to refill it. “Five older brothers. My parents. A handful of aunts and uncles. Cousins. A real three-ring circus.”
That dark look passed through Axle’s eyes again. He’d evaded my question about his family too. I wanted to ask how he ended up connected with the Dark Saints M.C. I wanted to ask if the hushed rumors I’d heard about some of the bad things they did were true. And I desperately wanted to know what was going on between him and Junior DiSalvo.
Thinking about Junior stopped me cold. I couldn’t close my eyes without thinking of the dead-eyed look he had when he went after Cory last night. Why had Cory just stood there and taken it? I knew he had to have needed the job at Cups as much as I did. Without it, I never would have been able to afford to stay out here. The thought of having to go back to Monroe with my tail between my legs kept me up some nights. But in Cory’s case, was it worth it?
“So,” I said, folding my napkin and setting it next to my plate. “What does this mean?” I grew bold; leaning across the table I ran my fingers along the rectangular patch. “Enforcer. What are you enforcing?”
Axle’s hand went up, catching mine. He ran his thumb along my palm, sending gooseflesh up my arm. “I told you. My club is my family. You’d do anything to protect your family, wouldn’t you?”
My breath hitched. He couldn’t know how painful the question was for me. The answer was both simple and complex at the same time. “I used to think so,” I answered, not sure why I felt comfortable enough to share that much with him. “But sometimes, you can be pushed too far, you know? Sometimes you have to accept the fact that you can’t save everyone and even if you could, there are some people who just don’t want to be saved. So, in the end, you can only really save yourself.”
“I guess so,” he answered, but I wasn’t sure he understood. He still held my hand in his and I traced the fine scars across his knuckles. They were strong hands with a brutal beauty, just like the rest of him. I wondered just how many battles he had to fight to protect the only family he knew. What lines had he crossed? Instinct told me it was better not to ask.
Axle’s face softened when the waitress came back and brought our check. Axle threw down two twenties, leaving her at least a fifty percent tip. Then we walked out of the diner and into the scorching sunlight.
“Come on, college girl, I’ll take you home.”
I climbed on the back of Axle’s bike feeling as if I belonged there. I wanted to ask him to take a longer route back to my apartment or to not go there at all. I could lose myself in this man and this bike. I could forget everything
waiting for me on the other end of my phone and back in Michigan. Junior, Wendy, Aimee, Cory ... all of it could just blow away as the wind whipped through my hair and Axle picked up speed. Everything about him intoxicated me. That was the problem. I didn’t feel sober around him though I hadn’t had a drop to drink. He made me feel wild and bold. I didn’t want that feeling to ever end. But before I could even catch my breath, Axle pulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex and cut the engine. For a moment, I kept my cheek pressed against his back, inhaling the scent of warm leather, relishing the feel of his hard abs beneath my fingertips.
Slowly, I climbed off the bike and removed his helmet. Once again, my hair was a wild mass of curls. Axle reached forward, twirling a lock between his fingers. The sun baked down on us now that the wind of the ride was gone. Axle climbed off his bike and started to walk me to my door. I knew what would happen if I asked him to follow me up. My need for it burned through me, taking my breath away. I turned though, cupping my hand above my brow to shield my eyes from the sun as I looked up at him.
I had my back against the brick wall of the apartment building and Axle came to me. His look dark and savage. A muscle jumped in his jaw as I paused, debating how far I was willing to take this. I raised my hand, smoothing my thumb along his cheek. Axle flinched, lust written plainly in his smoldering gaze.
“This is going to be bad for me,” I whispered.
His face cracked into the first full smile I’d seen him give. “I reckon.”
Then I went up on my tiptoes as he tilted his head and kissed me. A groan escaped from me as Axle pressed me against the wall, just like in my dreams. I sank into him, my nipples pressing against his leather cut with only my thin cotton t-shirt and tank top between us. Heat flared through me, settling in my core. It happened so fast. Just one touch and the dart of his tongue. It was just as delicious as I imagined. He pulled me close and ran his hand up my bare thigh, stopping just below the frayed hem of my denim shorts. I felt myself opening to him, spurred on by the tantalizing touch of his fingers playing just a few inches from my panties. So much. So fast. So good.
I explored his body with my hands, slipping them beneath his vest, tracing the hard-cut muscles over his shirt. I wanted to see him naked, study the intricate patterns of the tattoos that covered him. I was wet, more than ready for him. Gasping, I clawed at his back and pulled him even closer. I think I might have let him take me right there in the parking lot in broad daylight. This man was temptation and sin. I wanted to indulge in it all.
“Maya.” My name on his lips broke me open. I could lay myself bare to him. No consequences. No judgment. I could just feel, for once.
Never in my life had I done anything so reckless or carefree. It felt so good. I felt pulled under like the ocean waves and the undertow. In Axle Hart’s arms, I could let myself get carried out to a sea of pleasure.
“Axle,” I gasped. Yes! I wanted to scream it. Dare him, dare myself to do the very thing I knew I could never take back. I think I might have. Then something happened. It was a simple, ordinary noise. Street sounds. The light changed on Vista Drive and one car honked at another. But it pulled me back into myself and my body went rigid.
Axle sensed the change and let me up for air. His eyes were hooded with the lust coursing through him. He held his arms tight against me and searched my face. He saw something there that made him pull back. I wanted to bring him back, but my head took over. Staggering sideways, I put my hand to my swollen lips and reached back for the doorknob.
“I have to go,” I said, breathless.
Axle stood there, with one palm pressed against the wall as if he needed it to steady himself. His chest heaved with exertion and I saw the slight bulge in his jeans. Oh God. The need to touch him there and free it swelled within me again. But I couldn’t. Not now.
“I’m sorry.” I meant it. The last thing I wanted was for him to think I was a tease. He straightened and his eyes flashed with kindness. Reaching for me, he ran his index finger along my jaw then leaned down to put a quick, chaste kiss on my lips.
“Don’t worry about it, Maya.”
“No, I mean it. I’m not like this. I wouldn’t jerk you around. At least, I didn’t mean to.”
“And I want to see you again.”
His hand left my face and he ran it along my bare arm. It was a possessive move and it churned my insides all over again. Oh yes. I wanted this man to claim me. But not now. Not when I wasn’t thinking straight. There were only so many risks I could take in one day.
“God help me, but I think I’d like that.”
Axle laughed at my answer then pushed himself off the wall. “I’ll see you around, baby. I’ll be back in a few days when your car is done.”
“Thanks,” I said, wishing I had the presence of mind to say something more clever. Axle’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at me full on again. The sight of it was just as thrilling as I’d imagined. I wanted to make this man smile often. I wanted to let him rock my world. As if the universe meant to step in and bring my head back into my body, my phone vibrated in my back pocket and my mother’s ringtone chirped.
“See you around,” Axle said. He turned and climbed on his Harley, leaving me breathless in his wake.
Chapter 7
Maya
Just that small taste of Axle was enough to send my dreams into overdrive. For the next two nights, I woke up tangled in sweat and desire as I imagined how hard and good he would feel. Gordon had to think I was possessed. He’d taken to sleeping in the windowsill as far away from me as he could. By the third night, I was glad for the distraction of work as I headed back to Cups for my first shift since seeing Cory and Junior in the alley.
Wendy avoided me and that suited me fine. Though I hated wishing anyone else ill, Aimee had taken the night off which left Laura working the hostess station. Whatever bullshit Wendy had pulled concerning Axle didn’t seem to work on Laura. She kept my section hopping all night and I had just about made up for the other night’s lousy tips when I heard a commotion at the front door.
My heart sank as Aimee walked in two hours before closing. For a moment, I thought she was here to take over for Laura, thus screwing me over yet again. But when I got closer, I realized there was something wrong. Tears streamed down Aimee’s face. Wendy had gone to her and drew her to the back of the bar with her arm draped around her. Kirsten and Nikki came to my side.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Wait here,” Kirsten said. She put a hand on my arm then walked over to Aimee and Wendy. When she got there, Aimee threw her arms around her and started a fresh round of wailing. It scared me. Aimee’s face was purple and her eyes were puffy and swollen.
“Jesus,” Nikki said. “Whatever it is, it’s bad.”
Marcus, my favorite busboy, started toward Aimee and I touched his sleeve. “Do you know what’s going on?”
Marcus gave me a wide-eyed stare. “You mean you haven’t heard? It just came on the news on the big screen in the back.”
“No,” I answered. “I haven’t been back there in like twenty minutes.”
Marcus bit his lip. “I mean, I knew they were talking, but I didn’t realize they’d taken anything to the next level. I mean, Cory bragged and all, but he does that about everything.”
My spine tingled with the edges of fresh panic. “What does it have to do with Cory?”
“I guess he was hooking up with Aimee.”
“Was?” Nikki asked. My vision tunneled. Marcus stood no more than two feet away from me but the space between us seemed to stretch and time slowed. His lips moved but his words reached my ears as if they were coming from underwater.
No.
“I guess it was pretty gruesome. A couple of joggers found him early this morning. They didn’t ID him until a few hours ago.”
“Marcus!” I came into myself and grabbed Marcus by the shirt. “Say that from the beginning. What did you say?”
Marcus narrowed his e
yes and looked at me as if I’d sprouted horns. I didn’t care. I couldn’t breathe.
“Cory Kline,” Marcus said. “They found his body washed up on Azrael Beach this morning. He’s dead, man.”
Chapter 8
Axle
“You want me to say it again, real slow so you understand?”
Jed Byron’s eyes widened with fear as I gripped his shirt sleeve. Chase, our tail gunner, stood at my shoulder. He put his hands on his hips so his cut spread and Jed could see the Nine he had holstered.
“No, man. No. I’m telling you. It’s just a misunderstanding. I’ll have your envelope by the end of the week.”
“You’re not on an installment plan,” Chase said. Jed was on borrowed time. He’d jerked the club along for the last time. We’d provided a shipment to him last week and he’d fallen behind in payments. What’s worse, rumor had it Jed was running scared. It made him a weak link that had to be dealt with.
I pushed Jed against the wall with an armbar under his chin. Adrenaline shot through me as terror filled Jed’s eyes. The guy was trouble. Bear hadn’t wanted to deal with him at all but for a while, his money was good at a time the club was in desperate need. Now, with things looking up and shit calm along the docks, asshats like Jed weren’t as necessary. If that weren’t bad enough, this little prick liked to take his troubles out on his wife’s face. Addie Byron used to date Chase back in the day. We’d seen her around town sporting a black eye just last week.
Rage boiled through me as I squeezed Jed hard enough he started to choke. I don’t know what it’s like for other people. For me, things go dark and quiet. I felt my heartbeat start to slow and a rushing sound filled my ears. Chase said something behind me but the words just flowed together.
“How long did you think you could keep this going, Jed?” I said through clenched teeth. “Huh? One more week? Two? Bear’s a patient man, but he’s not stupid. You think you’d get a better deal from the Hawks up in Laredo. Sheeit.”