Page 27 of Bruised MC Bear

13

Axe

Wasthis night ever going to end? Axe hung up the phone after a second call that involved way too much negotiating with Silas. His prez was already calling him whipped for running off and shirking his day job in favor of protecting Angel. Sure, Silas slowed his roll when Axe mentioned the slip of paper with Axe’s and Angel’s name on it, the panther pricks, and the part about dodging bullets. Still there was way too much haggling to call the man off the ‘you’re on the run because she must be your true mate’ ledge. During the first phone call, Silas had also made Axe give his word that he would store his baby somewhere safe and figure out another ride out of town. No clubhouse and no bike? Fuck, deciding to go into hiding was turning into a serious sacrifice.

Axe took it all in stride. Things could have been worse. For example, it was purely coincidence that the diner was a few hundred feet from a gas station, and it just so happened that the owner had an old crappy rust bucket of a minivan for sale for four hundred dollars. The vehicle was a shitbox, but the engine was in decent shape, so he bought it on the spot, promising to set up the insurance and ownership the next day. After that purchase, he only had to drive his bike a mile up the desolate backroads behind the diner before he noticed an abandoned farmhouse tucked away from the roads. It was a risk leaving his baby here, but hell, it was a better bet driving the minivan than motoring along on a ride that screamed Beartooth Brotherhood. His walk back to the gas station was quiet enough, so overall, an extra hour to keep unwanted attention away from them was not too big a cost.

Now that he was back at the door of the motel, he could relax. Cracking the kinks out of his neck, he lit up and took a slow drag on his cigarette. He let the smoke infuse his lungs for a good while before exhaling through his nostrils. Maybe it was time to get back inside and crash for the night. Axe finished off his cancer stick and braced himself. Angel should have been sleeping by now, but with the TV on, his guess was that she was waiting up for him. It wouldn’t surprise him much. Who could possibly sleep on the first night their life got turned upside down in five seconds flat?

He took a deep breath, half-choking on the leftover nicotine in his lungs. Shoving the key in the lock, he twisted the doorknob and tentatively stepped inside. Angel was in the middle of the bed propped up by both pillows. She shot him a cold glance before returning her gaze to the TV.

“Hey. All good in here?”

“Just awesome,” she answered, not bothering to look at him.

He kicked off his shoes and lined it up with hers near the door. “You must be exhausted.”

“Getting there.”

He walked over to the foot of the bed and took a seat, staring idly at what looked like a late-night infomercial. “I’m pretty much ready to turn in,” he told her.

“Knock yourself out.” He only noticed the reflection of a pillow missile in the TV screen. It flew out of Angel’s hand, and he couldn’t react in time. It hit him right in the back of his head.

“You’re still feeling playful this time of night?” he asked, reaching down to the floor to pick up the less than fluffy projectile.

Angel was staring right at him when he sat up and pivoted around to look her in the eye. No, not staring. It was more like glowering mixed in with what he imagined intent to kill would look like on a woman’s face.

“What the hell does it matter to you? Just because you’re staying in the room with my doesn’t mean you’re going to wife up, bro. Get your head on straight. I’m not your old lady. You’re fucking working here.” She turned her killer stare to the TV screen. “Trust me, I got the point loud and clear.”

Oh.

Okay, that didn’t go over well, hearing Angel flip the script and pretty much repeat exactly what he had told Silas a while ago.

Axe ran his hands through his hair and blew out an inaudible breath. “You weren’t supposed to hear that conversation.”

She gave him a fake smile. “Well too late, because I did. So grab that pillow and knock yourself out on that couch while you fucking work.”

“Shit. Come on. You’re taking things way out of context.”

She did not give him an answer.

It was too late at night and he had done too much already. “Big fucking deal. So you heard me. I said some shit. Yeah, I’m a guy. We say dumb shit sometimes. What else?”

Angel’s eyes remained glued to the TV. “Have a good rest.”

“And what the hell did you expect me to tell my boss? That I’ve run away with a woman I just met who could be my old lady one day? Like you’d ever sign up for anything other than a few late night booty calls with a low down biker gang member. Give me some fucking credit.”

Suddenly, being here with this icy energy in the room only helped to box him in and make him feel trapped. Sleeping indoors was not a good idea.

“I’ll be outside. Thanks for the pillow.”

“Axe, wait,” she blurted out when his feet were back in his boots and his hand was on the door, ready to make his exit.

“What?” he barked, not releasing the door handle.

Next thing, she’d be crying after this shit show. He only had himself to blame for getting too close, and way too fast. They both needed a reality check.

Angel turned off the TV. “You’re right,” she said in a whisper. “I deserved that. I’ve not been kind or accepting of you, or even grateful to you for your help. For that, I apologize. And the truth is I’m not looking for a relationship with anyone right now, so you have every right to say what you did to your boss.”