Page 19 of Velvet and Valor (Platinum Security: Shadows of LA #4)

JUNE

“Don’t worry, June,” Axel says as the police SUV pulls out onto the road. “It’s going to be alright.”

“Maybe for us, but not for them,” I grumble, glaring at the cop who tackled me on the beach. He straight up tackled me! If it had been something other than sand I’d fallen on, I’d have broken something for sure. “I’m going to sue their pants off.”

“Hey, lady, you ain’t gotta go through all that to get into my pants, am I right?” says one of the cops.

They fist bump each other in the front seat. My fury mounts.

“Unbelievable! Now you’re going to get hit with a sexual harassment suit, too!”

“June,” Axel says, shaking his head. “Drop it, okay.”

“But–”

His eyes turn to steel, his voice to iron.

“Drop it.”

It’s not a callous or cruel command. But neither is there an inch of leeway. The Soldier is back in control of Axel’s body. I close my mouth and obey his command.

Once Axel is sure I’m going to remain silent, his expression softens. He leans in close and puts his mouth right next to my ear. His warm breath tickles the hair on the back of my neck when he whispers.

“Don’t speak, don’t react in any way to what I’m about to tell you, June,” he breathes. “These men are not cops.”

He waits a moment so that his words can sink in. My heart jumps up to top gear in my chest, but I manage to keep my face carefully neutral. Fortunately, the cops in the front seat seem focused on picking their route through the tricky Cali Mountain Road network.

“We’re going to have to make a break for it,” Axel says. “I can get out of my cuffs. When I do, I’m going to make my move. Be ready.”

Be ready for what? But I can’t exactly ask him as he slides over the seat. His eyes grow distant with concentration. Axel’s jaw flexes as he clenches it tight. He gives a quick jerk with his arms behind his back and then groans.

One of the cop glances back at us. I sit up and glare at him to distract his attention away from Axel.

“My legs are falling asleep. How much further is it?”

“Not much further,” he says, his eyes flicking over to me. He twists his torso around until he can more easily look into the back seat. “Man, you’re gorgeous. You got a boyfriend, babygirl?”

“Oh, I do,” I say, batting my eyes dramatically, “but you’re such a man that I’m totally going to leave him to hook up with you.”

The fake cop in the driver seat laughs. Hard. I get the inkling that despite being partners, they don’t like each other much.

“Hey man, fuck you,” the fake cop in the passenger seat says.

I’m starting to differentiate them now. At first all I saw was uniforms, badges, and guns.

Now I can see that the Casanova in the passenger seat is a bit on the portly side, with some white sprinkled into his porn mustache.

The driver is closer in size and build to Axel, but with obviously steroid-infused biceps–maybe even implants.

Already, my mind wants to buzz with a script idea: failed bodybuilder turns to crime.

Then I remember they just did that a few years ago with Dwayne Johnson.

Then I remember I’m in terrible danger and supposed to be distracting the bad guys while Axel escapes the handcuffs. How is he doing that, anyway?

“Ah, you couldn’t afford this,” the driver says.

“Yeah, you strike me as the type to sell your ass,” the portly one says. “To other men.”

“Geez, man, it’s not 1955 anymore,” says the driver. “Don’t you think your attitudes are a little outdated? Try not to ‘other’ people when you’re trying to be clever.”

“Yeah? Well, try not to, try not to…” the portly one sputters. Then his eyes glow like the fourth of July. “Try not to sell your ass to my foot!”

Awkward silence descends on the vehicle. I break it with laughter.

“Wow, that was pure cringe. You want another take?” I ask playfully.

The portly cop gives me a truly withering glare. I shrink back a little bit in spite of my earlier bravado. I can see it in his eyes. If he can get away with it, this man is going to kill me.

“Hey,” the driver says. “Check on the army guy. He’s been quiet for a long time.”

I had almost forgotten Axel. I look over and see him laying back, his head lolled to the side. His eyes are rolled back so only the whites show, and a line of foam dribbles down his face.

“Axel!” I scream.

“He don’t look so hot,” the portly cop says.

“Shit.” The driver mutters. He puts on the brakes and starts glancing to the right. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“What are you doing?” the portly cop demands.

“Looking for a place to pull over,” the driver replies.

“What the fuck for? The girl’s the important one, right?”

“You know we’re supposed to bring them both in, alive.”

“Axel!” I grab his slack arm with my cuffed hands as best I can. “Axel, wake up!”

Is he faking this? He has to be…but what if he’s not? I don’t know everything about his history. What if he had a traumatic brain injury in the army and never told me? What if this is a seizure or something worse?

“I think he’s really in trouble,” I say, startled by the tremor in my voice. Have I really come to care for this man in so short a time?

The SUV sends up a curtain of gravel behind us as it pulls off the main road. The driver quickly parks around a slight bend in the gravel trail and throws the truck in park.

“What the Hell are you so scared of?” the portly one asks. “Don’t tell me you believe all those stories about Ming Xa.”

“Man, you weren’t here last year when they caught two westerners snitching on the organization. Ming Xa made them fight to the death with dull knives, then the winner had to eat the loser.”

The portly one’s jaw falls open.

“Will you guys shut up and hurry?” I sputter.

Something nudges my knee. I look over at Axel, but he remains zombified. Did he just try and give me a signal he’s okay? Or is he just having a spasm?

The driver and the portly cop both open their doors, getting out onto the gravel road.

“That’s not even the worst part,” the driver says. “The Dragon Lady told the surviving snitch she wasn’t a barbarian. She would cook the dead snitch any way he wanted.”

“Whatever, man, I don’t believe it,” the portly cop says as he opens Axel’s door. I scream as Axel’s limp body topples out and sprawls on the ground. Oh my god, he’s not faking it!

“Oh fuck, man,” the portly cop yells as Axel’s tumble makes him lose balance as well. “He just fell out!”

“Why didn’t you catch him?” demands the driver.

“I told you, he just fell out!”

“If this guy’s dead, I’m totally going to have them cook you General Tso style,” the driver says, rushing around the rear of the SUV.

The portly cop struggles to his feet, stepping over Axel’s prone body.

“I think he IS dead,” portly guy says.

In a smooth, easy motion, Axel rises up behind the portly cop. The difference in their sizes is insane. It looks like a Sasquatch standing behind a trash panda. Axel’s arm snakes around the portly cop’s neck, his palm gliding up behind the head.

There’s no comically loud snap. No epic struggle. One second, the fake cop is alive, and the next, he simply isn’t. I have no idea how Axel killed him so quickly, but I know the portly one has departed this realm.

Axel then perplexes me by sinking back to the ground and draping the dead fake cop on top of him. I get what he’s up to when the driver finally makes it around the rear of the SUV. The driver sees them both sprawled on the ground and sighs.

“Come on, man, get off of him,” the driver says, pulling on his friend’s shoulder. “He probably can’t breathe with your fat ass on top—”

With a grunt and a heave, the driver shoves the fake cop off of Axel. The driver’s face crosses with a look of pure bewilderment when porn stache keeps rolling right into the ditch.

“Hey, you all right?” The driver starts inching his way down the steep ditch, sprawling his legs wide to maintain balance. “You guys bonk heads or something?”

Axel is suddenly just THERE, right behind the driver. Axel’s foot darts out in a quick kick to the small of the driver’s back. The driver cries out as the kick shoots him down into the ditch with his friend.

Before the driver has even finished his scream of surprise, Axel has a gun in his hand. I think he took it off the first fake cop while they were laying on the ground together. Axel snaps off the safety and pops off two precise shots so close together it almost sounds like one bang.

My eyes bulge out of my head when I see that the driver’s head has two red holes where there shouldn’t be any holes at all. Axel moved like the spirit of death itself. A chill runs down my spine as he descends into the ditch, muscles in his back flexing like a jungle cat.

Axel, fun-loving, goofy at times, immature—it’s all just a smokescreen. A mask to hide this, this pure killer behind it. His eyes have no emotion in them. None.

“Axel?” I say in a tiny voice.

He glances back up at me, and his eyes once again hold tenderness. It’s a dichotomy I can’t reconcile, based on what I’ve just seen.

“I’ll be right up, June,” he says in a reassuring tone. “I just want to make sure they’re both fully neutralized.”

Fully neutralized. He means dead. If they’re not dead, somehow, what’s he going to do? Make sure?

Oh my god. That’s EXACTLY what he’s going to do.

Thankfully, though, both men are definitely gone. He checks their pockets, then returns to the road bearing what he recovered.

“No ID,” he says. “Or any personal effects of any kind. Only the burner cell phone they were using to navigate.”

He gestures for me to turn around, brandishing a small silver key.

“I did find the keys to the cuffs, though,” Axel says.

“Thank goodness,” I say.

He sets me free. I rub my wrists and cock an eyebrow.

“How did you get out of your cuffs, anyway?”

Axel holds his right hand in the air. He grabs his thumb with the opposite hand and bends it back….and back…and back!

“That looks excruciating,” I say.