Page 29 of Axle
It had been a week since the meeting that ended with me pinned against the wall and Mason making it crystal clear I wasn’t going anywhere. In that time, I’d learned the shorthand the guys used for certain files and how to spot the difference between a harmless metadata trail and one worth pointing out to Jax. Also just how methodical Mason could be when he was in work mode—and always quick to praise when I caught something worth flagging to Jax.
I sat cross-legged in the chair across from him, and every once in a while, the low rumble of voices and the occasional clang of tools drifted to us. It was strange how safe I felt surrounded by the chaos that seemed to be the norm around here.
Just as I was about to let Mason know I was done for now, the door slammed open hard enough to rattle the wall, and my head jerked up.
Jax stormed in, muttering curses like they were punctuation, and dropped a thick file on the desk. Papers slid across the hardsurface, some stopping against my laptop and others closer to Mason.
Jax’s hair stuck up in odd directions, and his glasses were perched on his head. His T-shirt was wrinkled, and his lips were twisted in a dark scowl. “You’re gonna want to see this.”
Mason didn’t ask what it was. He just picked up the nearest piece of paper. I leaned forward to read along with him. It looked like a contract until the choice of words registered. Authorizations. Targets. Disposal clauses. My stomach dipped.
Jax leaned in, tapping one page after another. “Kill orders. Authorizations for black-ops teams or freelance hitters. And here’s the kicker.” He flipped to a flagged section. “See that? B. Creed. Name’s all over the worst stuff. Blackmail files, encrypted memos, and every high-value order we’ve found so far.”
“That’s awful.” I looked between them, not understanding why Jax was so angry about this discovery. “But also good, right? You have another name now. A new lead.”
Jax didn’t answer right away. Instead, he gave Mason a look I didn’t understand, the kind that made something in my gut go cold.
“Check the last page,” he finally said.
Mason flipped through the pages. Then he went so still that it made my skin prickle.
I leaned forward, more out of instinct than thought, until the page came into view.
And froze.
My name was printed in bold black letters. Beneath it—my height, weight, hair and eye color, identifying marks. A date. A number with too many zeros. And a notation that the payment had been approved.
It was formatted exactly like the other confirmed kill orders Jax had spread across the desk.
Something sharp flickered in Mason’s eyes. Then he grabbed the new stapler from the desk and whipped it across the room. It hit the wall with a solid thud, splitting open before it hit the floor.
“Motherfucker!”
The curse cracked through the silence.
I didn’t flinch. Just sank deeper into my chair, feeling oddly calm. Not peaceful—more like the detached quiet after you’ve been bracing for a blow. Which made sense in a sick way when I stopped to think about the fact that I’d been hunted for weeks. This was just more proof. The ugly, printed kind.
Still, seeing it in black and white felt like a cold hand closing around my throat.
Mason shoved back from his chair, bracing his hands on the desk. “They put a fucking bounty on you.”
I made myself meet his eyes. “I guess that means they’re done playing around.”
He came around the desk, fast enough that I almost didn’t track the movement. Then he planted his palms on either side of my chair, caging me in. His jaw was hard enough to crack teeth.
“They try for you again,” he bit out, each word rough with promise, “I’ll send them back in pieces.”
Mason didn’t move for a long beat, his body a wall of muscle and barely-leashed violence in front of me, hands braced hard on the arms of my chair. He looked like a man holding himself back from violence by sheer willpower.
His chest rose and fell in clipped bursts, each breath like it was being forced past clenched teeth—the only thing keeping him from tearing out the door to hunt someone down.
Jax muttered, “Came to you first. Figured you needed this intel now, but Kane needs to be looped in.”
He didn’t even glance at Jax. His eyes stayed locked on mine, steady and unblinking as he asked, “Can you fill him in?”
“Yeah,” Jax agreed. “And I’ll get to work on tightening the digital perimeter.”
I heard the rustle of papers, followed by the click of the door as it shut behind him.
