Page 3 of Axe
How long have I been out here?
“Yeah?” I asked with a chin jerk when I got within a few feet of him.
“It’s Tank. We need to ride, now.” His tone told me that he didn’t know all the details but we needed to get moving with urgency. “I called Diesel. He’ll be here in ten.”
“I’ll be ready,” I said moving past him and heading for my room.
I grabbed clothes from my dresser, not even caring what they were, and shoved them into my bag. Not even five minutes later, I was ready to go.
Everyone here was a brother to me, but Tank was above most. Next to Cal, the president, he was the one I trusted the most. He was the one that had been there for me when I needed a friend.
Don’t get me wrong, the men of the Steel Paragons MC were all good men. They never looked down on me for where I came from, what I had to deal with growing up, or what happened the night that led me to this place. They also did their best to never talk about it. Which, I was fucking grateful for. I was sure some of them had questions as to why I’d left my old man alive, but they never voiced them. Not even Cal. However, I had a feeling Cal knew exactly why I’d made that decision.
In my mind, that piece of shit deserved to rot in his own hell before he left to meet his maker. And I made sure he spent that time decaying in his own shit completely alone.
I took in a deep breath. I could admit that I was worried about my big friend. I understood his need to take off. He had a heavy weight on his shoulders. My hope was that he would take the time he needed to heal, to move on, and then he’d come back. But a few weeks ago when Loch and I had made the trip up to the cabin, I had my doubts that he would ever recover.
I felt helpless. I wanted nothing more than to be there for him but he was determined to push everyone away. I knew it would only do more harm than good if I planted my ass there and told him I was staying. So, I left, feeling wrecked by the man I forced myself to turn away from. The hopeless, broken man. All I could do was put my faith in something higher and pray that he made it out the other side alive.
Once Diesel showed up, Loch pulled us into church where Cal and Bocca were waiting.
“Got a call from Brass. Tank showed up there not even an hour ago. He’s wounded and out of it. Brass don’t know what happened,” Cal said. “Axe, I need you to take point on this one. They have a woman there, came in with Tank and Brass said somethin’ is off.”
I nodded, not liking the feeling that shot up my spine.
I had no problem hurting someone if need be. But a woman…that was something we never did. By the strange tone in Cal’s voice, he wasn’t exactly on board with my normal ways of doing things, too.
“Tread lightly. We need information out of her. All Brass said was that she ain’t talkin’.” Cal said, his eyes narrowing at me as if he was trying to communicate something to me.
“Got it,” I said in my usual flat tone. Though, I was hesitant about the whole thing. I guessed the only thing I could do was wait until I got there and saw the situation for myself.
“Keep me updated,” Cal said turning his attention to Loch.
With a chin lift, Loch turned and left the room. The rest of us followed out.
Three hours later, we were pulling through the gates of the Gray Fort compound. I needed to know Tank was alright. I had no idea what the fuck I was about to walk into.
A woman. Shit! I didn’t have the first clue on how to handle that.
One, I wasn’t sure what I had that would help me going into this situation. I wasn’t some sweet talker like Bocca. I wasn’t overly terrifying like Diesel. And I didn’t have age on my side like Loch. To some, I was still wet behind the ears. That didn’t mean I couldn’t handle my shit though.
Two, I never thought I’d see the day that a woman was on the wrong end of things. We didn’t typically come up against women who held power in a sinister way.
And three, if she had anything to do with Tank getting hurt, I couldn’t guarantee that I wouldn’t go over the edge. I had a hard enough time keeping myself in check on a normal day, never mind when someone I cared about like a fucking brother was involved.
“You good?” Diesel asked as he dismounted his bike and unstrapped his helmet.
It was then that I realized I was still sitting there, staring blindly at the front door to the clubhouse.
“Yeah,” I said. My nose twitched giving away the amount of discomfort I was feeling at that moment. Sometimes, I wished I was normal enough to be able to hide that shit.
It was a fine line between tough, closed-off asshole and psychotic. Wasn’t sure which one I was just yet. My voice never gave anything away, and I was sure if I tried hard enough I could hide the expressions on my face. Most of the time they were so subtle that no one would pick up on them unless they’d been around me enough.
I thought back to what it all stemmed from. I used to have better control over my emotions. It was after Cal brought me to the club that I started to try in little ways. Seeing people confused by the way I talked made some of my hardness slip. Only, I couldn’t change the monotone voice that had pretty much been beaten into me. So I found other ways to set people at ease.
Yes, I was a freak. Completely made by my environment. Adapt, that was the one word I would use for how I’d learned to make it through life.
“Let’s go see how he’s doing,” Diesel said, slapping me on the back in a comforting way. He didn’t miss the nose twitch and he understood the complicated feelings I had racing through my head.
