Axe's Fall: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 4) (30 page)

Logan’s cheery voice greeted her, telling her that Gary wanted them to meet over at the site. “We can go together,” he added.

“Since Axe has to report the progress to the club, he should be there, as well.”

Logan groaned. “I don’t think it’s necessary. I’ll take pictures of the progress, and you can drop them off at the clubhouse. You seem fond of the club.” His tone was cold. “Anyway, I don’t like him, and I know the feeling is mutual. I’m not comfortable around him.”

“I think Gary would agree that Axe needs to be there.”

A long pause ensued. Over the phone, she heard Logan clear his throat.

“Then I’ll meet you there.”

Click.

Baylee looked at her phone, shook her head, and muttered, “Men.”

“Who were you talkin’ to?” Axe asked as he sat up.

“Logan. We’re meeting at the site.”

“On a Sunday?”

“Yep, and you’re coming, too.”

“Wouldn’t miss it. The club’s been waiting a long time for this. They’ll be stoked when I update them at our next church.”

“Good. I’ll be done in about fifteen minutes, then it’s all yours. We’ll take my car.” When he opened his mouth, she said sweetly, “No arguments.”

Then she closed the bathroom door, holding her hand over her mouth to quell the laughter bursting from her lips. Axe’s look of disbelief was priceless.

She was downright giddy, and it wasn’t all at his expense. She was blissfully happy, fully alive. Axe did something to her no man had ever been able to do—he erased the shadows across her heart.

T
he wedding was
at the Primrose Hotel in one of the small banquet rooms. The windows faced a medium-sized pond stocked with golden carp, surrounding a fountain, its water spraying up in the dry summer air from the parted lips of two bronzed cherubs.

Ten round tables covered in alternating tablecloths in orange, green, and pink looked like bowls of sherbet. The head table held a spray of baby’s breath and white and pink roses. Wait staff bustled around, putting the last touches to the place settings. Off to the left, in front of a picture window, the bridal arch bloomed with pink roses, purple hydrangea, passion vines, and olive branches, which lent a sweet aroma to the room.

Axe and Baylee made a striking couple. He sported black pants, a light gray pinstriped shirt, and his leather cut, while she wore a sleeveless chiffon dress in rose and forget-me-not print with silver, barely there platform sandals.

When they entered the banquet hall, Axe wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her close to him as he scanned the room for his mother. Spotting her speaking with the minister, he led Baylee over to the bridal arch.

Axe’s mother was an attractive woman in her late forties. Her toned body was testament to her diligence in keeping her figure. For her wedding, she wore her shoulder-length dark hair loose, the long layers softly framing her face while her wispy bangs danced over her forehead. Her nutmeg-brown eyes—lighter than Axe’s—were heavily made up with black eyeliner, mascara, and dark purple eyeshadow. Her wedding attire was a simple ivory suit with a lacy, lavender camisole underneath.

She smiled broadly at her son. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she kissed him firmly on his cheek. “It’s been a while. Let me look at you.” She stood back and ran her eyes over him then leaned in and gave him a quick hug. “You look so handsome, Michael.”

Axe groaned inwardly as he saw Baylee’s amused eyes sparkle, her sensuous lips curling into a smile. He took a step backward, breaking away from her grip. “The name’s Axe, Mom. It’s been that for eleven years.”

His mom shook her head. “Not for me. You’re my Michael, my sweet baby boy.” She laughed too loud, and her glassy eyes tried to focus on him.

He detected gin on her breath, and wished he hadn’t come.
She’s probably high on pain meds.
He could never trust his mom to act the way a mother should.
Fuck.

She turned her attention on Baylee. “Are you Michael’s girlfriend?”

Shyly, Baylee nodded.

“This is Baylee, Mom.”

His mother opened her mouth just as Axe’s eyes grew dark and threatening. She closed it and extended her hand. “I’m Lorinda.”

Baylee shook her hand. “Nice meeting you.”

Lorinda squeezed Axe’s arm. “She’s beautiful.”

Baylee blushed, and Axe’s eyes locked with hers. “I know,” he said, his voice thick, hunger creeping into his gaze.

Lorinda grabbed her son’s hand and pulled him behind her as she walked toward the makeshift bar across the room. “I want you to meet Stephen.”

Axe snatched Baylee’s wrist and tugged her with him as his mother snaked her way around tables, wait staff, and padded chairs.

A tall, lean man spoke with the bartender. From the back of him, Axe could see his hair was salt and pepper and he wore a very expensive suit. His shoulders were straight, and his voice commanded respect.

“Stephen.” Lorinda released Axe’s hand as she came behind her soon-to-be husband. She moved her hand up and down his suit jacket. “I want you to meet my son, Michael.”

Stephen turned slightly. “Please don’t interrupt me when I’m talking with someone. I’ve told you that many times.” He clamped his hand around her upper arm. “Pace your drinking, okay? I told you I didn’t want you getting sloppy drunk at our wedding. Understand?” His voice was hard as steel.

Axe didn’t like the way he spoke to his mom, and if he cared more for her, he would’ve had this jerk against the wall, knee positioned to slam him in his aged balls. Instead, he just stood there, eyes narrowed, jaw tight.

Lorinda laughed, but her cheeks turned crimson, and Axe knew she was embarrassed he and Baylee witnessed the exchange between the couple.
So much for a long-lasting marriage.
Axe gave the whole farce about six months. He knew his mom would tire of the guy’s sharp tongue, and it’d just be a matter of time until she started looking around, getting antsy, wanting male attention from someone other than him. He’d be surprised if it went longer than that.

His mother looked at Axe, smiling weakly. “He’ll be done in a minute. Then you can meet him.”

The sonofabitch purposely continued talking, way after he should’ve stopped. Axe read him like a book; the fucker was punishing his mother. He stared at the asshole’s back and did all he could to hold himself back from punching the guy. He was stuck there like a pansy-ass, waiting for his mom to introduce him to a man he didn’t give a shit about. All he wanted was a beer, and Baylee snugly tucked into the crook of his arm.

Finally, her fiancé turned around, and Lorinda practically squealed. She grabbed Axe’s hand again and said, “Michael, this is Stephen.” She clasped her hand around Stephen’s. “Stephen, this is Michael.”

Her smiling face slackened as she looked at both men. Axe’s face was dark and brooding, and Stephen’s was tight and stern.

“This motherfucker is the one you’re marrying?” Axe growled, his eyes never leaving Stephen’s face.

“Michael, watch your language!” His mother dropped his hand and raised her fingers to her gaping mouth.

“You outdid yourself this time. This fucker is the worst you could’ve chosen.”

“Stop it. Right now.” His mother’s eyes flashed and she stood by Stephen, her arm looped around his.

“Lorinda,
this
—” Stephen pointed his long finger at Axe “—is your son? How didn’t I know that?”

“ ‘Cause you’re a dumb fuck,” Axe snarled.

On the verge of tears, his mother covered her ears with her hands. “No. This can’t be. You’re supposed to like each other. Why’re you saying these things? What is wrong with both of you?”

Axe snorted. “Fucking reality, that’s what, but you always liked delusions. I’m outta here. You deserve one another.”

Axe spun around and strode away, dragging a startled Baylee behind him.

“Wait. Michael, wait!” his mother’s high-pitched voice pierced his ears. “Michael!”

Baylee, struggling to keep up with Axe in her four-inch heels, stopped in her tracks, making Axe slow down. “Axe, what is going on? You need to talk to your mom.”

Axe whipped around, a storm brewing in his eyes. “I don’t
need
to do shit. And where the fuck do you get off telling
me
what to do?
Nobody
tells me what to do.”

When he saw her crestfallen face and glistening eyes, he knew he’d crossed the line, but he didn’t care. He was pissed, and he didn’t need Baylee interfering. She didn’t know shit about what was going on, about his life and how it’d been. She needed to fuckin’ back off. Axe didn’t need her telling him shit. Period.

Lorinda caught up to the couple, who stood still staring at each other. Fury emanated from Axe, and hurt and disappointment were etched across Baylee’s face.

“Michael, please don’t ruin my day.”

His anger moved from Baylee to his mom. “It’s always about
you
, isn’t it? You don’t give a shit about anything but yourself.”

“That’s not true. I love you, you just never let me in.”

Axe threw his head back and gave a dry, bitter laugh. “Do you
really
believe the shit you say? The only one you ever loved was Lorinda Tomlinson, or whatever the fuck last name you have now. I’m sure you didn’t give Tomlinson as your name to your fiancé. If you had, he never would’ve considered dating trailer trash.”

Lorinda wiped a tear rolling down her cheek. “Do you know Stephen from somewhere?”

Axe shook his head then looked at Baylee. “You see what a great mother I have?” He turned back to his mom. “You were so strung-out on prescription meds and busy screwing any guy who would have you, you didn’t even know how much shit the Rodgers gave me when I was in high school. His piece-of-shit son, Palmer, made it a point to belittle me every chance he got. And his dad? He made sure I didn’t get the scholarship I was vying for. That asshole also made sure that I had constant contact with the fuckin’ badges. And you didn’t do shit. I dealt with that, but you
marrying
him? No fuckin’ way am I gonna watch that.”

His mom reached out and ran her hand down Axe’s shirt. He jerked away, like his mother’s touch burned his skin. “Oh, sweetie, I never knew.”

Axe gave her a hard look. “No, you
knew
, you just didn’t give a shit.” Turning his back on his mother, he took Baylee by the hand. “Let’s go.” He walked toward the doors.

“Michael. Wait,” a deep voice said.

Axe continued walking, but a firm hand grabbed his arm and spun him around. Axe took a swing, but Stephen managed to duck in time.

“Get your goddamned hands off me,” Axe growled.

Stephen let go. “Look, I’m just as surprised that you’re Lorinda’s son as you are that I’m going to be her husband, but the shock has passed, and it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Axe didn’t answer. He didn’t trust himself right then. He was seething, and he wanted to punch this smug, arrogant sonofabitch right in the mouth. Then he wanted to smash and destroy all the cutesy fucking wedding decorations, starting with that damned bridal arch. The whole thing disgusted him. His mother had gone too far. The fact she looked clueless when he was so pissed told him everything. His family was the Insurgents, always had been from the moment he began prospecting. And he had Baylee. He didn’t need this shit.

“Make your mother happy today. You and I don’t have to be friends, but today is special for her.” He tilted his head in Lorinda’s direction. She stood there, dabbing the corners of her eyes, a small smile on her mouth.

“Special,” Axe gritted. “Aren’t you, like, number six?”

Stephen shrugged then trailed his gaze over to Baylee, staring intently at her. “Who is this lovely lady?”

Baylee leaned in to Axe, her body tense. He placed his arm around her. “You’re checking out my woman? You keep it up and you’ll be visiting the morgue instead of dancing the night away. I’m on to you, asshole. You can pretend you’re this rich, respected man in the community, but I know better. You made your money by crooking people.”

“And you and your hoodlum club are so innocent?”

“I’ve never pretended not to be a ruthless, cocky sonofabitch. You’re the hypocrite. You don’t matter at all to me or the Insurgents, ‘cause we don’t give a shit about the citizens’ world. So, fuck you.” He tugged Baylee toward him and nuzzled her ear. “Let’s get outta here, babe.”

As they opened the glass doors, his mother sobbed. “Please, Michael. Come back. Do it for me. Please, don’t ruin my day. Can’t you forgive and forget?”

Axe whirled around. “God forgives. I don’t.”

The doors shut behind him as he left the hotel without a backward glance. Red blotches floated in front of his eyes; his anger was palpable. The only thing he regretted was that he wasn’t able to speak with his uncle.
I’ll find him tomorrow and make him tell him why he was everywhere Baylee was.
Axe had grown weary of all the shit associated with his blood family.

When he started the car, Baylee leaned over and kissed the side of his face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Since we’re dressed, let’s go to Aspen, have a steak, dance, and fuck like hell in a suite I’m gonna get. Sound good?”

She grinned, nodding in agreement. “The one thing I’m bummed about is I was craving wedding cake,” she joked.

He brought her hand to his lips. “You want cake? I’ll get you some. We can share it.” He winked at her and veered his car on the two-lane, paved Highway 82.

B
aylee, calmed down
from the earlier scene at the wedding, looked out the window. She watched as they passed clear rushing rivers, steep-sided valleys, and extensive aspen groves whose rounded leaves looked like green disks shaking in the breeze, shimmering under the August sun.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me what the fuck happened back there?” Axe’s deep voice broke the pool of silence around them.

“I figured you’d tell me when you were ready. I gathered you weren’t too crazy about your mom’s choice.” She cocked her head and smiled.

“That fuckwad is Stephen Rodgers, Palmer-asshole-Rodgers’ dad. Fuck it!”