Page 18 of Velvet and Valor
“Were you able to extract her without too much trouble?” Jax asks.
“Piece of cake, smooth sailing all the way,” Axel replies. I give him a sharp look.
“Piece of cake,” Jax repeats, picking up a bit of shattered glass from the rear window. “Smooth sailing. Uhuh.”
Jax gives me a querying look. I shrug.
“I’m alive, and I might not be if he hadn't showed up when he did,” I say. “Smooth enough.”
Axel looks equal parts confused and grateful.
“All right, fair enough,” Jax says. “Please step into my office, June. My wife has given me strict orders to give you the VIP treatment.”
“You already did,” Axel pipes in. “You sent me to rescue her.”
“Don’t push your luck,” I mutter under my breath.
Once we’re in Jax’s office, the big boss stares Axel down. Hard.
“All right,” Jax says. “Tell me everything. And don’t leave the smallest detail out.”
Axel shrugs. “No shit, there I was, cruising along behind this limo and…”
Axel relates the story more or less with accuracy. But between you and me, he’s not exactly a born screenwriter. For all his charm and wit, his narrative skills could use some work.
But it’s good enough for Jaxon.
“Sounds like you did good, under the circumstances,” Jax says. “Though why you didn’t just call the police when you found the limo is beyond me.”
“Traffic was all jammed up. Not sure a cop could have even reached us at that point. Besides, you didn’t say go find ‘em and call the fuzz. You said rescue the damsel in distress, and I, your shiny new Knight, have done just that.”
Jax arches a brow. “So, by saying you’re my knight, does that mean you’re officially accepting the position?” he asks.
“Yeah, sure,” Axel replies with a shrug as if it doesn't matter.
Jax looks over at me.
“And you’re willing to accept a bodyguard detail?”
“I would be, but I need to check with my studio to see if we can afford it–” I begin.
“Don’t worry about costs,” Jaxon says. “Easton has you covered.”
My face flushes red and a grateful smile comes to my lips.
“Thank you.”
He nods, then turns his gaze back on Axel.
“Keep June safe while we get this sorted out.” He picks up the landline phone on his desk. “First things first, though. I have a friend on the LAPD. June, can you tell him everything that you told us?”
I nod, and he dials the number. I haven’t held a phone with a cord since I was a kid. It feels weird in my hand.
I tell the LAPD everything I can remember, which turns out to be not a whole lot. I can’t even remember the color of the limo! It drives me more than a little bit insane.
“Don’t feel bad,” Axel says. “I got run over by a motorcyclist in Thailand and I don’t know what color the bike was, either.”
“How do you get run over by a motorcycle?” I have to ask.
