Legion of Guardians: (Book 1-5)

by Xyla Turner

  "I know because she is still ripe. Fucking..." Bear pulled on his shaggy beard. "Can't believe I'm even thinking about it." He looked at Razor, then asked, "What the fuck?"

  Razor smirked, then pointed to me. "You tell 'em."

  I shook my head, "When Shay felt like she needed a fucking gun to protect herself, I realized I had fallen down on the job. Nobody knew, but I was claiming her. Fell for her, long ago, but felt like I needed her to live another life. Without me. I thought I was okay with that shit, but I fucked up. It hit me when I got the call from Ed that she was at the fucking gun store trying to get a gun. She felt like she needed what I should have provided and that is when I realized, how I fucked up." I took a sip of my beer. "You see something that she needs, you fail to provide it when the opportunity was open to you, then you'll have to deal with those demons. Did that shit for four years. Once I realized that, I wasn't waiting another second. Had to claim what was mine."

  That was my peace.

  Shay was mine a long time ago; I just hadn't caught up yet.

  "She needs something, you got?" Razor asked.

  "Fuck if I know. Half of me thinks, she’s just into kinky shit and the other half of me think she just needs a man. But out of all of the fucking men in this goddamn town, she singles me out. Why? What the fuck? I don't go hunting for pussy. Trained myself not to need it like that. But, I swear she's getting under my skin and I never allow that shit. Had an old lady once for like ten years, a sub for six years and none of them ever had the potential she has. I haven't touched her because I know. I fucking know, it'll be the end and I'm too old for that type of shit. She's young, inexperienced and running from something."

  I knew the fucking feeling.

  Some scary shit.

  "Know the feeling." Razor turned towards Bear. "Believe me, man, I know the feeling."

  "Well, lay low and see what happens. You have your reservations and who knows, it may just be a phase for her. The question is, if she wasn't trying to get with you, would you want to get with her?" I asked.

  "You fucking kidding?" Bear bellowed. "She's hot as shit. All the more reason, she should stay away from my old ass."

  Razor and I erupted in laughter.

  "Let's get the fuck outta here," Bear said. "All this talk about getting trapped is making me claustrophobic."

  We rode to RIGOR since I had to check on the gym plus Razor and Bear wanted to work out. As soon as we entered the front area we saw Dessy talking to a wiry guy with leather pants, a white t-shirt and his hand was wrapped her wrist.

  A growl erupted from Bear and we all went on red-alert because that shit would not end good.

  "You got business here?" I asked the guy.

  "You are?" He stood taller, but his hand was still on Dessy, who quickly jumped between us.

  "Hey, Bronx. This is, uh, Jeb, the guy Haz set up with the Vipers. He was on the run, and he found me when he realized that no one was looking for him."

  Bear took that opportunity to walk away, but Dessy ripped her arm from Jeb and called after him, "Bear, wait."

  He kept walking, but she got in front of him. Razor started to ask the guy some questions, but I stayed close to Bear, just in case.

  "Fuck do you want?" Bear huffed.

  "Wait, what happened? I thought we were supposed to be setting up dinner. You never called me and you won't return my calls." Dessy looked up at him like he hung the world from his hand.

  Like Shay looked at me and Kylie looked at Razor and exactly how we looked back at them.

  "Listen, girl. You got shit to handle." He jerked his thumb behind him, as she shook her head. "And so do I. Let's not cross this bridge, okay?"

  Her features darkened as her brows closed together, her lips thinned and her small nose flared.

  "Okay, Bear. That's how you want it to be." She moved out of his way and dramatically bent her body at the waist, then extended her arm for him to pass by her. "Go ahead. Just know I think you're scared. Not the sort of thing I expected from you, but..."

  She let it hang out there and by fuck if that didn't stop Bear right in his tracks.

  "Little girl, you ever hear about what happens to folks who poke bears?" he growled at her.

  "Don't see any bears 'round here?" She looked up and around the gym.

  Bear took a step towards her and then pointed in the direction of the guy.

  "What's he to you?" He called himself whispering, but almost everyone heard him.

  Dessy's nose lifted as she looked at him defiantly, then she took a step closer, "Why?"

  Yup, that was Shay's cousin, alright.

  One side of Bear's mouth lifted, then he shouted to me without his gaze leaving Dessy. "Bronx, Dessy's needs a break. NOW!"

  I didn't have a chance to respond because he dipped, picked her up and swung her over his shoulder like she was a rag doll.

  "Bear," she hit his back. "Put me down."

  The guy, Jeb, saw this and tried to follow them as they went into the back room. I stepped in front of him and said, "Not sure why you came to town, but she's no longer yours."

  He looked me in the eyes and said, "Yeah, a man could hope, huh?"

  Jeb nodded towards me, shook Razor's hand and left.

  "What was he talking about?" I asked Razor.

  "Young kid got in the wrong club but seems to be on the right track. Told him to go handle his business and we'd talk later. Seems to be looking for a family," he answered. "Know the feeling."

  "Sure do."

  "He said the Vipers had a take-over and that President is no longer in affect but one of the guys you hurt is running shit. I'm not sure what that means for us, but I'll reach out to Swag. If we need to make that call, we can do that," Razor added.

  My entire body went on red alert.

  "No, brother. I don't think it's like that, but we'll be ready if it does. With Haz out the picture, they've split up but if revenge is on the menu then, we can serve that up to."

  "Damn, right," I nodded. "No hesitations."

  "None."

  Shay and Kylie had been engrossed in wedding books for the past few months. She wasn't losing her shit, but she was super focused on it being everything she wanted. Mr. and Mrs. Russell were a part of it, but Shay gave them the rules ahead of time. They were not allowed to interfere, make decisions about her wedding unless she approved and even if they were offering their money, she wanted a say. They agreed to her demands and I did not.

  "How are you not going to agree?" She was washing the dishes after our Sunday dinner.

  I was rinsing them and putting them in the dish drain to dry. "Because it's ridiculous. I'm not your parents. It's my wedding too."

  "You're not helping me plan it, Bronx," she added.

  "Fuck no."

  "Then, I'm not seeing what the problem is then?" Shay turned to face me.

  "There isn't a problem." I dropped the towel on the counter and pointed to the door. "I don't give a single fuck about this wedding. We can go to the justice of the peace and get hitched right now."

  "No," she whined. "Bronx."

  "Exactly," I said when I picked up the towel to finish drying the plate.

  When I finished, I picked her up and placed her butt on the counter.

  "Love you, kitten." I kissed her nose. "You're my heart. I'll take you any way I can get you."

  Her bottom lip popped out, then she said, "I know."

  "Do you?" I asked. "Tomorrow after my fishing trip with your father, I'm headed to the tattoo shop." I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the mock-up.

  Her big brown eyes brightened as she snatched the paper out of my hand and opened it up.

  "Oh my God, Bronx," she gasped. "Are you serious?"

  "As a heart attack."

  Shay's eyes started to water, and her voice filled with emotion as she said, "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

  "Kitten, the moment you pulled those claws out on me, I knew. Either I would take you down or die trying. It t
ook me awhile, but I'm never letting you go."

  "I know, Bronx. I'm glued to you no matter what." She smiled before she chastely kissed me on the lips. "Just so we don’t have any misunderstandings, no fucked up communications, and no drama. We good?"

  She flipped the script on me and pulled one of my numbers.

  I erupted in laughter.

  "We're good!"

  I hope you enjoyed Shay & Bronx’s story.

  The series will continue with Lori and Apollo’s story in Just Right: Book 3.

  The best way to stay tuned is my mailing and texting list!

  Text EZXYLA to 313131

  AUTHOR NOTE & DISCLAIMER:

  Hey,

  This book was a tough one but a much needed one as it was so complex with the different qualities that Apollo and Lori brought to the making of this story.

  First, you’ll see that the names Connor and Apollo (both the same person) are used interchangeably. You’ll find out more about why that is but I just wanted to let you know it’s not a mistake and it was done on purpose.

  Second, there are some mental health components to this book that both of the main characters face. My goal is not to diagnose, trivialize or give remedies because there are so many components to the various disorders that are mentioned and I do not want to mishandle them. One of my goals is simple awareness. I want to show that with love, support and the proper assistance, we have hope.

  I choose to believe in that.

  Hope you enjoy.

  Xyla

  Just Right

  Legion of Guardians MC Series

  By Xyla Turner

  1 - Rehab This

  APOLLO:

  Rehab was a son of a bitch.

  It was punishment pure and simple, from detox to regaining the motion in your arm after being shot. Nobody could convince me otherwise.

  It was worth it but it hurt like a bitch. An asshole was about to kill my Guardian brother and his lady. Shit, it wasn't anything for me to put him down. I’d killed before, during my time in the army and after I’d been discharged. Mostly self-defense shit but the one that haunted me was Turo. He was my bunkmate when we were in stationed in Afghanistan. Our operation was compromised and by the time I caught up with him, his legs had been blown to bits, there was a hole in his stomach and his left eye was not there. The man begged me to end it for him. He said there was no more life in him, and he wasn’t going to make it. Some would have called it a mercy killing but I recall it as a torture for me.

  That ordeal kept me up most nights, which is why I never minded working surveillance at night. The evenings have a certain calm which provide a pleasant relief while in the darkness. There was no need to be 'on' or even on display; it allowed someone like me to just be. I could fit in like everyone else and avoid the hassles that came with daylight. The clarity and brightness of daylight enjoyed by others can be all consuming anguish for a man struggling with his own darkness. The majority of my life was dark, at least until the Guardians, more specifically Razor.

  Mom and pop had died in a car accident when I was seventeen. A tractor trailer had crushed them and both caskets were kept closed at the funeral. The only family I had left were my cousins who lived a few towns over. Once I graduated high school, I was at the nearest recruiter’s office because my anger was about to get me in some major shit, even though I’d wanted to right the wrongs of the world. I also wanted to right the wrongs in my world, which I couldn’t. Being a part of a team was great for me but after a while, burn out started to peek through in various forms of mental disorders including obsessive disorders, depression and antisocial behavior.

  Once I was off active duty, I found another group to join up with, the Guardians, but they weren’t half the team as the guys I served with. Well, not until Razor took over. I was a Guardian in the Manor chapter before he got there but I wasn't really doing shit. Barely came to any meetings but stayed for the parties. Never really said much to anyone which allowed me to fly under the radar with my personal issues. After Razor took over the club, he met with every single member with a list of documented accomplishments or infractions, and talked about where he wanted to take the club. Our meeting was brief but always had a lasting effect because it seemed he knew more about me than he let on.

  Razor started to invite me out to various events; meetings with other clubs, introductions and shit. He brought me along with him when he first traveled and visited the local businesses and other non-profit establishments. One night, after a few beers and pills, I asked him what the fuck he was doing dragging me all over the place.

  He looked at me with those piercing grey eyes and said, "Waiting for that leader to show up."

  Then Razor walked away from me and joined the rest of the guys in the back of our broke-down bar, at the time called The Spot. His words continued to haunt me every time I thought about our leader talking about waiting for another leader to show up. At first, I was pissed because I was offended but later I was intrigued; not enough to clean my shit up but enough to sober up and hide my addiction better.

  At least I thought I was.

  After missing one of Razor's meet and greets because I was sleeping off a combination of shit, he broke down my door in the compound early one morning. The look on his face said it all and he said the words that would have either ended my tenure with the Guardians or forced me to do something besides just hang out there.

  "Apollo, you want to be a real Guardian? It seems you want to enjoy the perks but you don't want to commit. Where I'm trying to take this group, I need a full commitment and if you're unwilling to give that, then I don't need you here. I need men that are skilled, trained and fucking alert."

  He saw the pills spilled out on my desk and on the floor. Fire seemed to come from his eyes. In standard behavior for any addict, I donned a look of innocent confusion and started to explain.

  "Those are for my injury from war. I only ..."

  Razor started to rise from his seated position and sneered, "Don't you dare fucking lie to me. Not you of all the fucking people I know. Not you."

  Therefore I shut up, because he was right. I’ve never lied to him before. I didn't say much but if my opinion was asked, I said how I felt, always. Bronx and I shared that quality.

  Razor stood up and sighed. "I'm trying to do something with this club. I could use your help, but not like this." He shook his head. "You want to be a part of that change? You go away, get your shit together and then come find me. I won't leave another option out there because if you can go and serve your country, serve these men and fight like the devil gone mad; I know you can clean out. This shit," he pointed to the desk, “is for weak people. You, my brother, are anything but that."

  Then he was gone.

  The very next day, I was in a different sort of rehab. Not a standard rehab facility but with my bible-toting cousins who had the patience of Job. With me screaming, yelling and being nasty for over a month, they prayed for my soul, wouldn't let me leave and I cleaned out. I had no woman who cared for me to help, no friends who bothered and a President who left me no other real choice. I'd always respected Razor for his line in the sand that day.

  Even when I came back, almost two months later, I tried to bring it up and thank him. Razor wouldn’t let me. All he said was, "That's what real families do. What brothers do."

  My president pulled me in for a hug.

  That was nine years ago and I've had his back since then. Always will. Anyone step out of line about him, I put them in their place. Anyone act like they had problems, I was there to end whatever they thought about starting. I knew Razor could hold his own. He also had Bronx, who was an ex-MMA fighter; so the Pres was always protected. Razor probably had some grand plan all along about making me the Sergeant at Arms, because that meant I was the protector of not just him but all my brothers as well as the enforcer. None of this was a problem for me and that was one thing about Razor that no President had ever done before. He put people in the best pla
ce for them. Not just have a warm body but one that was skilled, equipped and ready for their duty. This made him an extraordinary leader. Though the club was divided when Shark left because he wasn't the new president, people followed Razor and were loyal because Pres or not, he cared, he led, and he sacrificed.

  "FUCK," I YELLED OUT loud. "What the fuck are you trying to do? Break my arm?"

  Donna had my sore arm bent and tilted slightly above my head. It wouldn't extend anymore and she seemed to be leaning on.

  "I'm sorry, honey." She placed it back down and said, "It would help if you took the pain killers. I promise."

  Fuck that.

  "Listen, I done told you already. I ain't takin’ that shit," I sneered.

  Her face lowered as she kissed my shoulder then trailed up to my ear as she murmured, "That's right. I'm sorry. I'll make it all better."

  Then her hand moved to my crotch and that shut up any protest that even wandered into my mind.

  Once she finished making it all better, she left and I stayed in my room where I'd been holing up lately. I couldn't really go out on the missions, and I was in pain half of the time so there was no need to try to even be silent company.

  However, brothers were brothers and I couldn't get any rest. They were constantly knocking on my door, bringing food and shit. They even had their women, especially Shay, coming to bring breakfast. She just wanted to test her nursing skills on me. The more I got to know her, the more I liked her. Razor had always liked her but he was someone who kept independent thinkers around him; especially the vocal ones. She fit that bill to a tee. Bronx had been in love with her for years and they had finally gotten together and were to be married soon.

  I kept trying to tell Shay that she didn't owe me for killing the guy who was about to kill my brother, Bronx. She said she wasn't coming by because of that but I knew it had to be the only reason. She didn't bother me because she talked a lot which meant I didn't have to, and she said the craziest shit.

  "You fucking that nurse?" Shay asked one day.