He cocks his head, but I hold his gaze.
“And that kid wasn’t a weak little shit. That kid is the ultimate survivor,” I add on a breath.
He searches my gaze for a moment before his lips find mine, and he kisses me like he’s thanking me. Or needing me. Or just caring about me too.
It takes me a few minutes of being lost in his kiss to realize I just told him I love him.
I really have the shittiest timing ever for romantic notions.
CHAPTER 28
MAYA
We’re a tangle of naked limbs when I wake up and see the dark sky through the window. Loud voices beyond the bedroom draw my attention, making me think that’s probably what woke me up.
The door is cracked, as though someone didn’t shut it and probably peeked in to see if Axle was awake.
As if he hears it too, Axle jerks awake, his hand immediately tightening on me like he’s making sure I’m still next to him.
“I’m saying it’s a possibility,” I hear Jude telling someone. “Hershel tells us where to find Herrin, and we’ll just kill him.”
“Hershel won’t talk this quickly,” Sledge growls.
“No, but he will eventually. Death will be the reward, since he seems to want to push you into killing him. Is Liza coming out here?” he asks.
A lump forms in my throat as Axle sits up a little, bending over to grab his discarded boxers from the floor.
“No. She’s still at the hospital,” Sledge says quietly.
“Yo, Axle, you up?” I hear someone asking, probably hearing him shuffling around.
“Yeah. I’ll be out in a second,” he says. “Are Maya’s clothes here?”
“Drake put them just inside your door,” Drex calls out.
I spot a pink bag that isn’t mine, but assume that’s what’s holding my clothes. I suppose that’s the real reason as to why the door was cracked.
“We’re going outside. Join us when you get dressed,” Drex tells him.
As soon as I hear the front door shut, I look over at Axle. “I don’t think Liza was really a victim.”
Word vomit, hello. That totally wasn’t supposed to come out like that.
His eyes flash to mine, his pants hanging on his hips undone, and I rush to add, “She stared at the camera, and victims who know there’s a camera always stare away—”
He darts to me, clamping his hand over my mouth to shut me up as he looks over his shoulder toward the door.
He listens for a minute, like he’s checking to make sure no one is still out there, before his eyes finally come back to mine.
“You can’t say that to anyone else,” he says quietly. “Liza has been with the club for longer than any of us, including Sledge. You’re an outsider. That will piss a lot of people off, and—”
“I know,” I interrupt, pulling his hand down. “That’s why I’m telling you. Just you. I’ve had to watch tapes like that more times than I care to count. Some of the heads of other Families aren’t quite as civilized as we are. We had to desensitize ourselves to things like this so that we didn’t cave against the demands. It was part of our training.”
He looks behind him again, before redirecting his attention to me.
“What did you see?” he finally asks.
“She stared at the camera,” I repeat. “Shame is a powerful thing, even though these girls are feeling unwarranted shame. It still keeps them from looking at the camera, refusing to allow their families or anyone else to see them so vulnerable and exposed. Usually, the captors force them to look at the camera, and you can see the way it kills them. Liza looked into the camera for almost the entire video.”
He blows out a breath and runs his hand through his hair before sitting down on the edge of the bed.
“That’s how you knew it was a setup,” he says quietly.
“That and the fact she had access to at least one of your accounts, since she cleans the money at the club. She also knew about the cars being done today.” I glance at the bedside clock to see it’s two in the morning. “Well, technically yesterday. And she chose her escorts. Twenty-five years is a long time, Axle. Especially for someone as devoutly loyal as I’ve been told she is.”
He looks back at me, and I expect him to tell me to shut up and keep my opinions to myself. Being an outsider doesn’t lend me the right to have an opinion, after all. People get killed for accusations like I’m making against one of theirs.
If someone accused Smitty of this, and they were an outsider, there’d be hell to pay. Although I didn’t get too pissed when Axle tried to suggest as much once. But that’s because it’s Axle. I’m hoping he feels the same.
“Get on some clothes,” he says, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “And come find me when you’re done if you feel like it.”