“Fuck, I hear ya,” Brick said, bringing over some lukewarm beers he had smuggled from God knew where. “That last mission was bullshit.” The asshole was a genius with logistics. If you wanted it and it could be found in that godforsaken sand pit, Brick would get it for you. “Stunk to high heaven and shady as fuck. It would be nice to say fuck it for a while and not worry about what some just out-of-school, pansy ass mother fucker thinks is the right way to handle things. If Roo hadn’t been doing his voodoo mumbo jumbo shit, none of us would be sitting here right now.”
That was the fucking truth. Their team had gone against orders, deviated from the plan only slightly, but it had saved all their lives.
“What are you going to do when Uncle Sam lets you off the leash, Axe?”
“I’m going home to my girl, gonna do the whole white picket fence, two point five kids and work nine-to-five in an airconditioned office at the old man’s company.”
Tiny laughed and almost spit out his beer. “Sounds boring as fuck, man. Sorry, but why in the hell would you settle for one piece of ass for the rest of your life when you can eat off the buffet daily?”
It didn’t sound boring to Axel, he wanted normal. He and London had been together since high school, and she had stuck it out through his deployments, training, and every other thing. He owed it to her to do boring, to give her what their parents had. Axel had put a ring on her finger the day before he left for boot camp, and she had been planning their wedding ever since. He’d held off, not wanting to get married while he was still in the service; that shit didn’t last. He’d seen one too many guys come home to their lonely wives fucking other soldiers. He didn’t think London would do that to him, but he wasn’t about to take the chance either. It was better she stayed in their hometown with their families.
Axel shook his head when he heard gagging sounds coming from Brick.
“Dude, you look like a deranged pussy-whipped asshole when you’re thinking about your woman, Axe. Scares the shit out of the locals and gives me the fucking willies. Maybe you should join up with Caine and me and ride for a while, explore all those options you’ve been missing out on all these years while you played boy scout. Hell, man, I don’t think you’ve even used Uncle’s lotion. You’re so pussy-whipped, might do you some good.”
“Ain’t going to happen, man, my girl is all I need. Made her promises, don’t plan on breaking them. Plus, when you scraggly mother fuckers get arrested, I’ll be there to bail you out.”
That scene and conversation played over in Axe’s head like a fucking drum. His words and thoughts, fuck what a crock. He came home alright, and for about two months, everything was perfect and going according to his plan... until it wasn’t. London had never planned their wedding, hell, she hadn’t planned on staying for those fucking two months. When it all blew up in his face, he went to the people he counted on, his brothers and had been riding with them ever since. But now, things were changing, and Axe didn’t like it. Shit, even at the moment, sitting at a table, drink in hand with plenty of pussy to be had, Axe hated every minute of it. His mind and heart were screaming for him to leave, hit the road and never turn back. Roots and dreams caused pain. Being in one place too long painted a fucking target on their backs, and his president knew that shit, but still, here he sat, the Nomad patch on his back replaced with Hazard, Kentucky.
Picking up his glass, he took another healthy swig of his whiskey. It was rotgut and tasted like shit, but it was just what he needed to numb the memories. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working fast enough. He’d just gotten back from a run, helping out one of the RBMC members with a chick, Braya. Fuck, that girl reminded him so much of his ex, the memories just wouldn’t stop, a constant loop running through his head, twenty-four seven. This fucking place was just too damn close to where he grew up and where he thought his life would continue until she fucking ruined it all.
He looked around the room again. Most of his brothers were there, hanging out, doing what they wanted, looking fucking happy, partying it up like there was no tomorrow. And what was he doing? Drinking crap whiskey and thinking about how it all started, getting more pissed by the second.
He heard the scrape of a chair moving and looked at his President, Caine Masters.
“What the fuck are you doing, Axel?” Caine questioned.
“Drinking, what does it look like, asshole?”
“It looks like you’re doing that memory lane shit again. Thought you were over the bitch.”
“I am,” Axel said, shooting back the last of his whiskey.
“Nah, you ain’t over shit, and that little piece of ass showing up hasn’t helped any.”
Not wanting to get into the past or hash out anything to do with London, Axel changed the subject. Putting his glass down, taking the bottle and filling it to the rim again, he tilted it toward Caine. The other man declined like he always did; it was expected. Caine would drink a beer or two, but no hard liquor... ever, said it messed with his control. Axel could respect that, but at the moment ,he also didn’t care. He had something else he wanted to talk about. He looked at Caine, his fucking best friend, the man he would kill or die for.
“Why did you do this? Why the fuck are we here? This was never the plan, Caine. You know your brother put a fucking arrow sign right at our door.”
Caine leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest.
“He didn’t put that arrow there, dude, and you know it. I am Perez’s primary target. You don’t want to be here, don’t be, but be honest about the fucking reasons, Axel. Paris started sniffing around, and all of a sudden, you need to get on the road. She hooks up with the brothers, asked to be a sweet butt, and you get all broody and shit. Kick her ass out. I told you it was your call from the start. We have enough shit going on without you tromping down memory fucking lane every goddamn day. Deal with it.”
Axel didn’t even acknowledge what Caine was saying about Paris. The truth was, he didn’t want London’s sister there, but he wasn’t going to stop her either.
“Like I’m going to leave you to deal with this shit on your own, mother fucker. This shit is all kinds of wrong and not the way the Blacktop Renegades work. You changed the rules mid-game, and it isn’t cool with me.”
Caine leaned forward, getting right in Axel’s face.
“You’re blowing smoke, and we both know it. You’re always up for a fucking fight. How many years have you told me to get shot of this shit? I’m doing what you asked, and now your whining like a little bitch who got his feelings hurt.”
Axel stood up so quickly, his chair flew out from behind him, pushing Caine back. He respected the man, loved him like a brother, but no one fucking talked to him like that, not even Caine. Just as he was about to clock the mother fucker right in the face, shots rang out, and he could hear the distinct sound of tires squealing. On instinct, both Caine and he went down, ducking for cover. It took them a couple of seconds to get their bearings before running outside to chaos.
Brothers were scattering, looking for cover, but all of them had their weapons pulled. Right in the center of the parking lot was a bloody bundle. Axel’s stomach dropped. Scanning the area, he crouched and ran to the bundle, Caine at his side. Pulling back the canvas, he could barely make out her features, but it was Paris, her dead eyes staring up at him, her body beaten and bloody. Caine’s, gruff, ‘Son of a bitch’ echoed his thoughts exactly. Stabbed into her chest was a piece of paper, the words, I’m coming for you written in blood.
Roo came up and looked down, going to his knees, brushing the hair off Paris’ face.
“My God, man, what did they do to her?”
Axel couldn’t speak, didn’t even know what to say. He knew they needed to call the police, but he knew he would need to call London; Paris was her only family. His mind was going in a hundred different directions on how he was going to do that.
“I don’t know man,” Caine’s voice broke through his thoughts. “But the better question is why. S
he was a hang-around, nothing more. This doesn’t seem like Perez’s style.”
Caine was so blunt and callous, Axel wanted to hit him. This woman would have been his sister-in-law, she had fucked several of the members, and Caine was saying she was nothing. That shit didn’t fly with him and was about to tell the man just that.
“Chill. Think and leave the emotions aside, you know I’m right,” Caine ordered.
The bitch of it was, the fucker was right.
Coming Soon!!
Annie’s Mate – Z'Lelyrian– Book 1
“Dude, there is no fucking way his dick was that small. I mean, your pinkie is only what, two inches long if that? And come on, you have skinny fingers. Like straw skinny,” Annie admonished.
“Or like a pencil stub,” Vee put in her two cents matter-of-factly, raising her cup in the air.
Rach, ever the optimist said, “Now come on, you guys, not every guy can be hung like a horse. I mean if he knows how to use it…”
Heather was holding up her hand like the rest of them were doing, looking at their pinkies, each of them either shaking their heads or their brows furrowed, concentrating like they were trying to figure out world hunger instead of the mini-micro size of some man’s penis.
Annie loved these girls. They had been best friends since grade school, and now that they were adults, they tried to carve out some time for just the four of them to hang out, drink, and be merry. Basically, gossip and drink with a bitch fest mixed in. Hence, the mini-micro penis conversation. Annie loved it, every single second.
They were all so different, but they matched up so well, each of them boosting the other. She was the quiet one with a little geek mixed in, Heather was the crazy one, up for anything anytime. Rachele was the mom, always looking out for them or trying to make them look at things a different way, and Vee was quiet too until she wasn’t, then watch the hell out, she was the fighter of the group.
All in all, they were a mismatched, tightly twined family, and these little “camping” retreats always made Annie smile. She never knew what was going to happen or what they were going to talk about, but it was always exciting and fun. Until they had to go back to reality and deal with real life. Real life wasn’t so much fun—get up, go to work, deal with her asshole boss, stay late, cover for everyone, then come home exhausted, maybe watch some television or read a book if she could keep her eyes open, then go to sleep. Rinse and repeat, day after day. She knew there was more out there she wanted more, she just hadn’t figured out how to get it. That’s why she loved coming out here, to hang with her girls. No cell phones, work interrupts, noisy neighbors, or eavesdroppers. It was just them, together, saying anything and everything they wanted.
The place they choose for the semimonthly bitch sessions weekends wasn’t random. It was the first place they had ever camped out as teenagers, their first taste of freedom from their parents, and they kept coming back, trying to capture a little of that excitement and happiness, leaving little things behind like the table and chairs and fire pit. They all knew the owner of the property, Mr. Frankel, didn’t care. Ge was in his eighties now and never came this far back on his property. Annie was pretty sure they were the only ones who ever did, maybe some hunters every once in a while who ignored the signs they had posted all over the fucking place.
Vee was still looking at her pinkie, halfway past tipsy, asking with a little slur, “The guy from the gym? The one who was like, ‘Baby I’m going to rock your world so hard, you won’t be able to walk for a week.’ That guy?”
“Yep,” Heather said, taking another drink from her cup filled with their signature drink. Signature because it consisted of whatever they brought, mixed with pineapple juice and was potent enough to peel paint. She was still nodding her head when she said, “I shit you not, I hadn’t even gotten my back down on the bed and my legs up before he was in and out of the promised land, lying next to me with droopy happy eyes. Pissed me the fuck off. I mean, seriously, a man promises you a little slap and tickle, and I get a twitch and thump. What’s up with that?”
Annie couldn’t help it, she started laughing so hard, tears were running down her face. Rachele was soothing Heather, petting her hand.
“Honey, next time, maybe you should, I don’t know, get yours first. Like you must worship at the promised land before you enter. I could make you a sign and everything, and did you see that article last week in Cosmo, you can even have that shit painted on your girl bits.”
“If the guy needs a sign to tell him what to do, he isn’t worth the effort. Rachele just doesn’t remember what the whole dating scene is like. She and Ollie have been together since middle school,” Vee said, then looked at Rachele.
“Please tell me the man you’ve been fucking for the last ten years doesn’t need a sign to guide him to your girly parts? Cuz that would be bad, really bad.” Just as quickly Vee changed the conversation back to Heather, but Annie noticed something.
Rachele looked sad, and that wasn’t part of her usual demeanor at all. She was the happy one of the group, rainbow and roses type of shit. Everything in her life was good, stable. That small look bothered Annie, big time.
“Did you dump his ass?” Vee asked Heather, but Annie cut in and addressed Rachele.
“Rach, what’s going on?”
“Ollie and I broke up. I was going to wait to tell you on Sunday night, but…”
Vee stood up, knocking over her glass, leaning all the way over the table, trying to get to her.
“Do I need to kill the fucker?
“Why would he break up with you? You’re fucking perfect?” Heather asked.
Shit, Annie was wondering the same thing. If she swung that way, she would snatch Rachele up in a second. The woman had an excellent full-time job, owned her own home, cleaned and did laundry as if she left one piece of clothing or surface dirty, she would be arrested. The topper? The woman could cook and bake like nobody’s business. Plus, she was just so damn sweet and caring. All Annie kept thinking was the asshole was dead meat. She would key his car or put a bag full of cat poop on his porch, something, but he was going to pay for hurting her friend.
“He didn’t, I broke up with him.”
Well, shit. For some reason, Annie hadn’t expected that. “Why?”
“I want kids, and he wants to still be a kid. After ten years of waiting, I’m done,” Rachele said shrugging her shoulders. Then she tried to lighten the mood, saying, “So, bring on the mini-micro penises!” and lifted her cup, taking a big gulp. Annie followed suit, not exactly knowing what to say, but apparently, Heather didn’t have a problem with that.
“Love, don’t even think about the mini-micro. I swear, I was tempted to look in the trash can and see if he used one of those finger condom things to cover his baby bit, instead of a real condom. I even Googled condom sizes to see if they made them that small. You need a magnum man, we’re talking one who looks like The Rock, hung like John Holmes, talks like Sean Connery, sweet like you would think Chris Pratt would be, and has a little Christian Gray in him. Someone who will know what to do you with lady bits and all your other parts,” Heather said, bobbing her eyebrows up and down.
Hell, that person, if he existed, Annie wanted him. Add in a little geek, like he had to love Dr. Who, and she would be all set. But the truth of it was, he could just talk, and she would be a puddle on the floor. Scottish accent, yum give me more were her final thoughts before all hell broke out. The sky lit up like it was daytime before turning an eerie purple, flashing blue, then bright white, temporarily blinding her. Blinking her eyes rapidly, trying to get her vision back, Annie braced her hands on the table. Her body felt weighted and weird like she had been drugged or something. They had been drinking but not that fucking much. Shaking her head, she tried to get her bearings again, finally able to see through her slitted eyes. What she saw made her mouth drop open.
The Rock, Jason Mamoa, and Brad Pitt had nothing on the man, well, being, standing in front of her. He was drop dea
d gorgeous and only wearing black leather-ish pants. His hair was dark, long, and flowing in the wind, bright purple eyes zeroed in on her, causing her to squirm just a little in her chair. His lips were a kissable dream, but what really got her attention was his fantastic chest and twelve pack abs, lightly sprinkled with… scales?? Her head dropped to the side so she could look closer, trying to figure out what exactly she was seeing. The light from the fire pit wasn’t that great but not that bad either. It was almost like he was wearing a coat of glitter on his skin. Every color of the rainbow twinkled off his skin. Still confused, she looked up into those purple eyes once more.
“Annie Tate, you have been chosen as an Z'Lelyrian bride. Your leaders have given me permission to remove you. Come with me now,” he said in a very deep, slightly accented, masculine voice,
“Huh?” Annie asked. Things were just starting to click together in her head, but she was still captivated by the man. Well, maybe not a man but Alien? Thank fuck for Vee’s temper and love of all things lethal. A shot rang out, snapping her quickly out of his thrall. When Rachele yelled, “Run,” she didn’t have to think twice. She ran like the hounds of hell were on her tail, and maybe they were, just not from hell but from space?
Authors Note:
They say it takes a village to raise a child. I get that. What I didn’t know when I first started writing these stories was that it took a village to write a book. I have had so much support and encouragement. I will always be eternally grateful.
A special thank you needs to go to my editor, Sandy Ebel, with Personal Touch Editing. You have helped me make a good book great. DeAnne, Rachele, Viridiana and Heather thank you so much for being my beta readers. Your feedback helped me more than you will ever know.
Crash: Ruthless Bastards (RBMC Book 9) Page 19