“How sad. You need to go. Are there women at the run?”
“Only men can play and make the run.”
“Are there women there to service the men?”
“Yeah. It happens.”
There was silence on the other end. Ready to hang up and redial, Axe heard Baylee breathing. He smiled.
“You don’t have to worry about that. I’m going to help out my buddy, not to fuck other women. You almost here?”
“Yes. I’ll be up soon.” She hung up.
Axe lay back on the bed. He understood where Baylee was coming from. This thing between them blindsided him, too. For the first time since he walked through the Insurgents’ doors, he wanted to be with someone other than his brothers. The women he fucked for years were for draining his cock only, but the brothers were his family, his core. With Baylee, everything had changed. Most of the time, he’d rather be with her than the brothers.
He would have to force himself to go on the poker run, because he didn’t want to be away from her. He’d never imagined he’d ever be indecisive with the brotherhood.
The click of the key card was music to his heart.
Baylee entered, a small smile whispering on her lips.
In a husky voice, Axe said, “Get over here. Your ass needs some spanking for that stunt you pulled.”
Giggling, she ran and jumped on the bed. Axe caught her, pinned her underneath him, and covered her face with kisses.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The green-eyed man observed the other as he came into his office—his shoulders slumped, his gait slow.
“Did anyone see you come in?” the man inquired when his visitor crumpled in the black leather chair by his desk.
“No,” he replied, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a crisp, linen handkerchief.
“What brings you here?” the green-eyed man asked, drumming his fingers on his wooden desk. He didn’t like the measly guy in his space. He hated weakness and insecurity, and his collaborator was guilty of both. The slouched man was quickly becoming a liability.
“I think we need to back off. Baylee is scared enough. She doubts her sanity, and that’s making her question everything she thinks she remembers. From her journals, she still only recalls shadows and shapes. I think we’re safe. We can leave her alone.”
He looked at the whiny piece of shit in front of him. He questioned his judgment in becoming involved with the weak guy years before. Even back then, his gut had warned him about partnering with the spineless man. Greed pushed back his instincts, however, and he entered into a business arrangement with the man who sat before him, weak as ever. After all these years, and all they had been through, the fucker still hadn’t developed a backbone.
“I told you I’d take care of her. All you have to do is stay the fuck out of it. You brought me the journal. Your part is finished.”
The man slumped further into his chair. “I don’t want to know the particulars.”
His green eyes hardened. “You won’t know anything. I’ll take care of it. Having the goons from the Insurgents MC hanging around has caused a kink in my plan, but I’ll work around it. The good thing is that the members are high in brawn but very short in brains.” His thin lips curled up.
Wiping his forehead again, the man in the chair nodded before his mouth turned downward. “I hate to see this happen to her.” A sheen of sympathy covered his brown eyes as he looked into the clear, glinting ones on the other side of the desk.
“It’s simple. She’s a liability.”
“I don’t really think she is.”
“Do you want to upset your safe, well-orchestrated life?”
Head hung, he whispered, “No.”
“I didn’t think so.” Contempt laced his voice. “You’re out of it. I’ll take care of the rest. You can go now.” He dismissed the gutless man with a wave of his hand.
Sighing deeply, the brown-eyed collaborator rose to his feet, turned around and walked slowly out of the room, his shoulders hunched and his head down.
When he left, the stalker tapped his pen against his desk. He hated not being alone in all this. The more people involved in a killing, the more risk there was in getting caught. Baylee would be the first one to deal with, the lowlife biker next, then he’d eliminate the loose end—his cowardly partner in crime. After doing that, he could finally put the murder of Cassandra Peters behind him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Four days without Axe seemed like a lifetime. Baylee had become accustomed to seeing Puck during the day and Blade at night. Each morning, when she peeked out the door, Puck’s broad shoulders and colorfully tatted arms greeted her. He never said a word to her, only grunted or shook his head when she’d ask him if he wanted anything. At night, Blade took over, and his muscular build and stern face gave her comfort when she slept. Like Puck, Blade never spoke to her of his own volition, but he’d at least give her an audible answer if she asked him a question.