Page 68 of Mad Max

I can’t keep my curiosity at bay even if I want to. Which I don’t, and Mad Max has never said I needed to, so I ask Gator the questions that come to mind.

“Are you growling because of me or about the business you did? Or even that you got back from it? Were you ordered back? Did something go wrong? Did you want to stay? Do you wish I wasn’t here? Did you want to talk without me listening? I can do that. Really good at that. And I’m not sure what happened, but if you’re here and no one is glaring, I think whatever you did couldn’t have been a bad thing. Or did you want some solo time with Beast? I got to say, he doesn’t talk much, but he does with me. He also doesn’t do much, but again, he does with me. So if you’re wanting some dick, sorry, but I don’t think he’s the willing type. He’ll do experimental things with me, but I think adding in another dick might be too much. Right?”

I look to my man and see his lip twitch as he nods at my question to him.

“Fuck me, she’s just like the rest. I swear to Christ I’ve got no idea how you all get them.” Gator groans with a headshake.

“Luck. Maybe a bit of faith. Mostly we don’t let them leave when we get a taste.” Mad Max winks at me before drinking his beer.

Gator snorts at my man’s response. I only smile. Boy, is he right. One kiss and the next thing we know, we’re living together. Okay, it didn’t happen that fast, but I basically knew right away that he was different. And in my mind, different isn’t all that bad. It’s good. Especially when talking about my beast.

“To your question, Fairy, it’s the name. No disrespect to the club, ’cause a club name is an honor to have. Just don’t like how I got it.”

I’m so intrigued, I’m surprised I don’t jump over the table and grab his shirt, demanding he tell me everything. Probably helps that Mad Max has a hold on my leg. Has since he sat down. I love that he’s always touching me when he gets close. Makes me feel like I’m a part of him. Not in a creepy “going to carry a lock of his hair in my pocket” sort of way, but in a comfortable “I belong with him” way.

“Beast already told me how he got his name. Nothing fancy about just getting mad. I sort of think they couldn’t think of anything on the spot and maybe were on a movie kick when they put his name together. So it can’t be all that bad, right?”

“Beast, huh? I can see that. Too bad he doesn’t refer to you as Beauty. Would make Princess and Grace happier than clams, I bet, knowing they got a real-life fairy tale at the club. But I see why he calls you Fairy too.”

I tilt my head at my beast. I guess in a way we resemble the movie, if the girl had a fascination for throwing knives and the prince did time for attempted murder. I look back at our guest, and he answers the question I haven’t voiced yet.

“Fairies have a habit of causing mischief, and from what the boys tell me, you have quite an interesting tale yourself for how you came into the club. As for being called Gator, I used to throw away the Gatorade drinks that Kitten placed as mile markers after I drank them when I was on gate duty as a prospect. The name stuck the instant she was hauled into Law’s office for trespassing. Nothing like being known for bitch duty and an energy drink all in one.”

Mad Max grunts at that. “That might have put the name in the boss’s head, but that ain’t it at all. Not from what he told me. You got a knack, kid. You see things, and you don’t let them get by you. You might not know it all, but you sit and wait, seeing what happens. And while you wait, you watch, check shit out, and I bet your blood pumps to bite. And like the damn gator, I got no doubt you’ll wrestle to the ground any prey that gets close.”

The guy’s face is full of shock, and he takes a minute to clear his throat a few times before he nods a bit. I think more for himself, as if accepting the new name, than anything else.

“Thanks, man.” He coughs once more and takes a drink of his beer.

“Anytime. Now that you got the patch, when you going to get the old lady?” Mad Max wraps his arm around me, and I just snuggle in deep. He smells amazing, and I like the warmth he offers.

For the first time since I met Gator, I see a spark of fire in his eye. “Already working on it, man. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

I shake from the rumble of laughter coming out of my beast at that.

“Good luck. If I can offer you a bit of advice, be prepared for anything. As Hounds, we already got a certain rep about us. Only the strong survive, and we only get with those willing to take on a fight with us. Make sure she’s worth it and willing.”

“Oh, she’s worth it all right. It’s the willing that I’m working on.”

“Then grab on tight, fucker. It’s going to be a long ride but worth it.” Mad Max turns his head to me and looks so deeply into my eyes, I think he’s speaking to my soul. “So worth it.”

I have no clue if Gator says anything after that, or even if a bomb is going off. All I know is the feel of my man’s lips on mine and the love in my heart for him. I’d do anything for him, even die. But he won’t let me, not my guy. I’m stuck with him, and I won’t have it any other way.

Epilogue – Mad Max

“F

uck, it’s good to have a reason to party again,” Bass says with a stretch, as if the idea of not having one has exhausted him.

“Never thought you needed a reason, Bass.”

“Fuck you, Flint. I’ve been working my ass off. Haven’t stopped since I left.”

We just laugh, knowing Bass as well as we do. Only Flint’s willing to call bullshit on him. We all would, actually, but I think the boys and I are giving him a few days to settle back into routine before the ragging really begins. He was gone a few months on club business; it gives him a pass for at least two days. Three if we’re really nice. Which most of us aren’t.

“Bullshit. Hey, Gator, tell the truth, man. Did Bass really have it hard up in Washington like he says, or is that all just crap like we think?”

“Oh, he was hard all right. But not for the reasons you think.”

---