Page 5 of Axle
I stopped, adjusted her weight in one arm, and bent to grab the duffel with the other. It was heavier than it looked, and the zipper was just slightly open. Inside, I saw a glimpse of neatly bound cash.
Yeah, this wasn’t a joyride.
This was a fucking escape.
Teeth grinding, I strode off the field. Bystanders tried to ask questions.
“Who is she?”
“What happened?”
“Is she okay?”
I didn’t answer or slow down. My steps were hard, my focus laser-tight on the parking lot behind the pit wall.
The voice of my MC’s VP, Edge, crackled through my comms. He’d been back in the office, rather than watching the race. Someone must’ve told him about the crash, and he was probably wondering why the fuck I was bailing mid-race.
“Axle? You alive, brother?”
“Yeah,” I growled. “Race is over. Meet me behind the pit in ten.”
There was a pause. “You got a reason for that tone, or just feeling dramatic today?”
I looked down at the girl in my arms.
Her lashes fluttered again, her brow crinkling.
“No,” I muttered. “Got a reason.”
Another pause. Then Edge’s voice dropped low, more serious now. “You good?”
I didn’t know how to answer because I wasn’t sure. I had no idea what the fuck this was. Why I was this pissed, this protective. Why my heart pounded harder now than when I hit 212 on the final straightaway.
“Just meet me,” I grunted.
Someone asked if they should call an ambulance. I snapped, “I’ll handle it.”
Because I would.
I didn’t know who the hell she was.
But she wasminenow.
And no one was touching what was mine.
3
ASHLYNN
The first thing I noticed was the sterile smell. As if someone had gone on a cleaning spree with disinfectant. Definitely not my place because I procrastinated chores like it was my job.
My eyelids fluttered open, and although the room wavered at the edges, I knew I’d never seen it before.
I was on a bed, propped against pillows. A thin blanket covered me to the waist, and when I shifted, a dull ache rippled through my ribs. My scalp felt tight, and my temple throbbed under the bandage my fingers brushed.
I jerked upright, ignoring the flare of pain. Panic shot through me as fragments of memory slammed into me. The men with guns shooting at me. Jumping on a motorcycle. The deafening roar of engines at Redline Speedway. The barrier splintering as I smashed through, the ground tilting, the violent jolt of impact. And then strong arms lifting me. A deep voice rumbling something I couldn’t quite catch. A flash of hazel eyes that had locked on mine for a heartbeat before everything went black.
Relief swirled in my chest, clashing with fear so sharp it made my stomach knot. I was alive. But I had no idea where I was. Or if I was safe.
