Axle's Brand (Death Chasers MC 3)

A small rumble of laughter escapes him, and he slides his hand up my neck, gently cupping the lower part of the side of my face that isn’t beaten to hell.

When his lips brush over mine, barely ghosting them, a tear rolls down my cheek. I’m not sure why. There’s no pain. And there’s no such thing as happy tears, right? I mean, I’ve never actually cried from being happy.

But all I feel is—

“So if she’s staying, does that mean I get a free pass if I make Blackbird my bookie and bet too much?” I hear Drake calling through the door.

Axle groans, and I sniffle as I bat the weird tears away. His lips move to my forehead, kissing me there.

“Go away, Drake,” he calls out. “Before I make you look like me.”

“You need to stop threatening my face. It’s the only thing too pretty for ink, let alone a butcher knife.”

Axle laughs lightly even as I scowl at the door.

“You just wish you were as pretty as him,” I defend, then feel stupid when everyone, including Axle, bursts out laughing. I’m glad that door is shut, that way no one can see my red face after being a little overly defensive.

“My little protector,” Axle murmurs, sliding his lips back down my neck. “Eat your sandwich. We need to get you healthy.”

I turn and look at him, arching an eyebrow.

“It’ll be a while before you can have another blowjob, because of the ribs and all.”

A snort comes from the other side of the door as Axle just grins at me.

“But you might be able to sit on my face in a few weeks.”

That has me biting into the sandwich just to keep from thinking about my favorite thing to do, and he grins as he lies back beside me.

“I’m going to drink myself into forgetting I ever heard this conversation,” I hear Smitty say from the other side of the door.

And I almost choke on my sandwich as the laughter restarts.

A small grin plays on my lips when I see the light peeking through those pale eyes of Axle’s. That light is reserved for only me.

And it’s really freaking special.

EPILOGUE

MAYA

Axle’s lips move away from mine, as he collapses to my body. It’s been almost two months since all hell broke loose. Things are quiet right now, but we know Herrin is plotting his next move.

Just the calm before the storm.

Hershel has started singing. He broke a lot quicker than most anyone expected, but I won the pool because I guessed it the closest. Betting odds are sort of my thing, and they’re thinking about taking me out of the pools in the future.

Petty amateurs.

No backlash has found us for Lathan’s death. From what little information Ingrid has been able to gather, Phillip thinks the Family came down and wiped out Lathan for taking me and trying to steal Blackbird’s money.

Understandable.

Phillip doesn’t want a war with the Families, and he doesn’t yet know one is coming.

“I can’t believe you fucking did this,” Axle says, eyeing my left breast that has his name literally tattooed on it.

He didn’t freak out, much to my dismay. He merely threatened to kill Drake for seeing so much of my ladies. No, those were nowhere nearly his exact words.

Anticlimactic as his reaction was, it was still funny to see him turn murderous and Drake hide in the storage room that day, swearing he never saw nipple, as if that made it all better.

“I like it. It’s totally awesome to wear a low-cut shirt, too, because girls see it and know I’m crazy enough to get your name on me, so I might be crazy enough to stab them in the throat if they try to steal you.”

He grunts, and I feel him roll his eyes.

“We could stay in here all day,” Axle says against my neck as he kisses his way back up.

“But the warehouse has been fixed and modified to now withstand an outside explosion,” I say as he slides his lips all along my chest, working his way down to tempt me.

I grab his hair, halting his descent, and feel him smile against the underside of my left breast.

“And I really want to see what I’ve paid for,” I go on, grinning when he rolls his eyes.

“Drex will pay you back just as soon—”

“I’m not worried about repayment. Consider it my payment for the protective services I’m being given. Besides, if I’m staying there, I never want to have to worry about being exploded again.”

He tenses subtly, not wanting me to feel it, but I find myself wishing to recant that terrible joke. I blame him. He’s made me less funny because he’s horrible at being funny.

“Besides, I also bought a gift for the club, and it’s finally here. I want to see the unveiling,” I go on, grinning when he looks at me curiously.