I just hope it’s the key to solving our problems and nothing more sinister.
Chapter 3
Axel
The world around me slowly fades into focus. There’s a dull ache in my leg, reminding me that I took a bullet. Truthfully, I’d expect it to hurt a whole hell of a lot worse than it does.
I lift my head slightly, trying to take in my surroundings. I’m not sure where I was expecting to be, but it wasn’t inside a strange dining room. Wracking my brain, I try to remember what the fuck happened after taking that shot, but I come up short.
Giving up on figuring out where I ended up, I glance down at my body and make a shocking discovery. I’m not wearing any pants. And, even more shocking, the angel I saw before the world went black is in a chair next to me, tending to the wound.
“There’s no fuckin’ way I got to heaven,” I say as I lay my head back down. Apparently I did die. What a way to go out.
The woman scoffs, but there’s something sweet and light in the sound. I glance down at her, pleased to see that serious expression she was wearing just a few moments ago is gone, replaced with a teasing smile. God, she’s fucking beautiful.
“You’re not dead,” she says, deadpan despite the way the corners of her mouth tug upward. “But I agree. There’s no way you’d get into Heaven if the stunt you pulled out there is anything to go by.”
I roll my eyes, smirking at her. “Whatever you say, Angel.”
“Close,” she murmurs, pushing a strand of blonde hair away from her face. “But my name is Hazel.”
“Axel,” I say, deciding to introduce myself properly. I start to sit up, disliking lying down while I talk to this woman, but she pushes my back down with a firm shove to my shoulder.
“Oh? You like to be in control?” I ask, raising my eyebrows
At that, her face turns bright pink. She looks even better like this, flustered because of my words. I think I could happily spend the rest of my life getting under her skin like this.
Jesus. Maybe I lost more blood than I thought. What the hell am I thinking? She’s hot, but I’m not the kind of man that lets myself be tied down by women. Relationships aren’t my thing, so why am I imagining one with her?
“You were shot,” she mumbles after a moment, going back to tending the wound on my leg. “I’m trying to take care of the injury. I don’t want you pushing yourself so soon after sustaining it.”
Because I’m a bastard and we’ve already agreed that I’m not getting into Heaven, I decide to push things a little further just to see how she reacts. With a tone that straddles the fine line between mocking and flirtatious, I say, “You’re pretty good with your hands, huh?”
She splutters for a moment before regaining her composure to say, “I’m a nurse. I’m good with medical care.”
“Shame,” I say with a click of my tongue. “I’m already halfway undressed.”
She makes an indignant noise, squirming in her seat. She drops the cotton pad she was using to clean me up and pushes herself back from the table slightly. I’m opening my mouth to say something else, to see if I can get that gorgeous face even redder, when I hear my best friend and fellow Riders of Retribution member, Slash, speaking in the next room.
With a hiss, I push myself onto my feet, ignoring Hazel’s weak protests. As much as I’d love to lie around and tease her, there are more pressing matters to attend to. I need to know why the hell my associate is hanging around in this woman’s house.
Pushing through the pain shooting through my leg, I enter the living room to find him sitting on the couch next to a man I don’t recognize. The man looks uncomfortable and maybe a little scared. Slash either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, and is in the middle of telling him a story about his latest solo ride.
I swear, Slash could make conversation with a statue. The man loves to talk. I’m surprised he was content to be alone long enough for a solo ride. He probably talks to his bike when we aren’t around.
“Damn, Axel,” Slash says, rising to his feet when he notices me standing in the doorway. “You look like shit.”
“I still look better than you,” I retort through gritted teeth. “What’s going on?”
“Well, me and the guys took care of the body you dropped before you passed out,” he says with a shrug. “I was just sitting around waiting for you to come back to the land of the living.”
“How thoughtful,” I spit, shifting my weight to my good leg. I have no idea how I’m going to ride like this. That motherfucker really hit me where it hurts.
Couldn’t he have aimed for a vital organ or something?
“I’m the most thoughtful bastard you know,” Slash says with a shit-eating grin. “Anyway, we gotta get you back to the clubhouse. Prez wants to talk to you.”
I resist the urge to outwardly groan. It’s not surprising that I’m being called in. I stormed into a situation without thinking, killed a member of a rival MC, and got myself shot. Who knows what kind of shitstorm I’ve unleashed.
