He glares at me for a second, but Maya quickly skates to my side, shadowing me like I’m her damn hero now when I move back over to where Drex is. Fucking eh.
This is not what I need.
CHAPTER 9
MAYA
Obviously I stick to Axle’s side, even as he casts warning glares over at me. I mean, no; he’s not the sweetest looking of the bunch. He’s the meanest in appearance.
The scars alone are a foreboding tale of a hardened fighter and survivor.
But since he pushed the gun away from the back of my head, it appears he wants me to die the least out of this bunch. And then there’s that whole sexy thing he has going for him. Obviously that is clouding my judgment a little.
As they listen to the recorded proof of the plan to ambush them—which I’ve never heard before this moment—I take the time to study Axle. I also put all the damn phones in a bag that Cold Eyes thrusts in front of me.
But my attention mostly stays on the man I’ve been curious about since the day I set eyes on him.
He has dark hair that was made to be permanently windblown—and hot. And he’s tall. Really tall. Even in my skates that give me a lot of extra height, my forehead barely comes to his chin. His stubble is intentional and lines his jaw, only interrupted by the scars that deny the hair the right to grow, and possibly why he doesn’t grow a full beard.
One scar cuts across his lips in a diagonal, and another jagged one stands out too. It’s clear that none of these had proper stitches, because they would have healed so much better and less obvious if they had.
I want to reach up and trace the marks across his lips, curious how they feel. But he’s like a wolf. They look pretty, but they’ll bite your hand off even if you think they’re tame. And Sarah informed me Axle is a total bear when he gets touched.
As the recording ends, the cold-eyed one looks over at me. Well, not me. He’s tall too, so his level gaze is over my head as he looks to Axle or Drex. Jude’s jaw tics like he’s furious about something.
“If we’d known what we were walking into, we could have survived,” Jude says angrily.
“But we wouldn’t have known, because our sources helped Herrin set us up,” the cold-eyed one growls. “Which means they would have at least killed one or two of us by catching us unaware if they hadn’t already been dead.”
Drex eyes me for a second, and I shift a little closer to Axle, careful not to brush up against him since Sarah gave me the “no touchy touchy” advice.
Which is totally a shame.
“She can’t just kill a bunch of guys in our territory, even if she is saying she killed them for us,” Jude snaps. “She has a war at her back. How do we know she’s not dragging us into it with shit like this?”
He gestures around to the carnage called bodies.
Man, for a model, he sure does sound scary when he’s pissed. And he looks half crazed right now too. All because Sarah lied? Little over the top if you ask me.
Then again, I’m wearing rainbow shoestrings in my skates around a bunch of seasoned killers. So what do I know?
“Sarah saved our lives,” Drex repeats, his eyes still on me. “We owe her. So let’s hear the girl out.”
With Drex studying me like a science experiment, it’s making me uneasy. In fact, I notice everyone’s gaze has shifted to me.
That’s not intimidating at all.
It’s like I was asked a question, but I don’t remember hearing it.
The first thing to come to my mind is what shoots out of my mouth. “Sarah’s like a cat,” I tell them.
“A cat?” the cold-eyed one asks, his tone devoid of any emotion to tell me if he’s amused or confused. Or just wants me dead.
Tough crowd.
“A cat,” I repeat. “She disappears for days at a time, but always comes back. She doesn’t react well when backed into a corner. As pointed out to me by Model Boy six months ago, she really does have sharp claws—metaphorically speaking. And she gifts you dead rodents as a show of affection.”
Just to be clear, I point to a few corpses.
To make things worse, I add, “And she’s always clean.”
No one says anything as I awkwardly stand still in my skates—total badass achievement. “Cat,” I repeat quietly for no reason at all as I pick at an imaginary piece of lint on the hem of my shirt.
Shutting up now. I promise.
“Model Boy? Six months ago?” Drex asks, causing my eyes to move back to him.
I toss a thumb in Jude’s direction. “Model Boy.”
Jude glares at me like he might just slice my throat. That has me shuffling even closer to Axle; so close I can feel the static forming between us.