Page 37 of Brandishing Balance
“And you’re thirty-four?”
“Yep.” I nodded.
“Yeah, you gotta cut yourself some slack. You were in over your head and probably managed well. Maybe you did great, but lines were blurred and things happen. Add in the outside forces you were dealing with and of course you felt overwhelmed. I think you should kick those boys’ asses for letting things escalate the way they had. They were your Doms and there were three of them. They had a say in how things progressed as well. They should have either backed off or initiated the conversation themselves regarding the relationship. Had you felt comfortable enough to bring things up back then, maybe you would have gone to them about the stalker thing.”
I frowned as I contemplated what Darla had just said. It wasn’t the first time I had heard something along those lines. I’d gone searching for answers in the local BDSM community when I was in Chicago and online forums. There had been too much left up in the air, and that last night I’d shared with my guys in the forest hadn’t sat right with me for years after. It was how I found my therapist—a friend from the BDSM club I frequented had recommended her.
Sighing, I nodded. I had a lot to think about and not enough time to figure it out. Everyone was gone, so I was going to take advantage of the quiet to take a shower. “Can I shower?” I asked, changing the subject.
Darla smiled easily and nodded. She stood up and patted me on the hand. “Sure, can, kiddo.”
Axel
Ilookedatthethreemen standing in front of me and frowned. Marcos, Jason, and Nico, aka Killer, Stone, and Dagger were at the gym where I trained with Phoenix and Blaze, and not at the hospital taking care of their woman. “What’s up?” I asked, sitting up from the shoulder press and looked up at the three men surrounding me.
“Hey man, we just wanted to thank you for your help getting that video,” Dagger said.
“Yeah, it’s what finally found her. Without it, our tech guy couldn’t pinpoint their exact location,” Killer added.
“Yeah, no problem. Glad I could help.” I nodded.
“Seriously, though. Thank you,” Stone said as well.
I only nodded, because now it was getting weird. I didn’t do big shows of gratitude. I was a quiet guy that stuck to the shadows, unless I was fighting. “Look, I know you guys have more claim to killing Hillcrest at this poi—”
“We all have a claim,” Killer—Marcos, interrupted me. “He killed your family, your brother, that means something. You have a claim. He kidnapped my sister. He kidnapped my woman. He was stalking Maya for months—years. We all have a claim. I know you want to kill Hillcrest, but the best I can offer at this point is being there. The Ravager Knights—Johnny and his boys especially—want dibs on killing Hillcrest too. At this point we need to wipe out their entire crew.”
“Fuck yes,” I growled and stood up. I clapped palms with Marcos before we shook on it.
“Dagger’s going to meet with his cousin and set up a sit down with the Knights. We’ll get the coke trade figured out, then we’ll talk about Hillcrest.” Killer explained.
I nodded, because what else could I say? They had everything all figured out. “Yeah.”
Marcos walked away and Dagger followed him. Both men glanced back over their shoulder when Stone stayed behind, but he waved them off.
I waited patiently until Stone said what he needed to say. “I need a fight.”
Shifting on my feet, I turned to meet the stone-cold killer, not surprised to see the stoney expression on the man’s face. Emotions locked down, no flicker of anything across his gray eyes, the man was a fortress. I eyed him warily, for as stone-faced as the club enforcer was, he was also known for being a hair-trigger away from erupting into violence.
“Not sure I’m the one you should be talking to. Ask Johnny Taylor,” I said, offhandedly. This was not the direction I thought this conversation was going to.
“No.” Stone grumble. “I want in at fight night.”
“Taylor’s fights are legit; there’s big money there. Go fight there.” I tried my best to push by Jason, but true to his road name, he was a solid as stone.
“I don’t want to fight over at the Knights’s compound. I want in at Roadies,” Jason snapped.
“Man, you don’t know the bullshit that goes on at Roadies fight nights. They’re dangerous—they’re one step away from prison fights. You don’t know if you’re going to walk away from them—a lot of people don’t.”
Jason narrowed his eyes at me, a spark of anger igniting in those stormy gray eyes. “You and your boys fight there.”
I barked a sardonic laugh. “Me and my boys don’t have anything to lose. We don’t have much to live for, if you catch my drift. Fighting and the club is all we have. And each other.”
Giving me a once over, his stony expression shifted into something else, something too close to pity that I didn’t fucking like. “You wanna fight? Come on, let’s hit the ring right now.”
Stone glared, but nodded his head.
I was going to enjoy this. It was about time someone knocked Stone fucking Langford on his ass.
