Proven (Motorcycle Club Romance): Axel and Paige 3 (Fallen Idols Motorcycle Club Book 8)

Proven

Fallen Idols MC 8

Axel and Paige Book 3

Savannah Rylan

Proven

Published By Savannah Rylan Books

Copyright © 2015 Savannah Rylan

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places or events are entirely the work of the author. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, or places is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. Please purchase only authorized editions and do not participate in piracy of copyrighted materials.

Cover art by Cover Up Designs

ONE

AXEL

I watched as Blaze aimed the gun at Rocco’s head, knowing that if one of us didn’t step in, he was going to kill the motherfucker.

“Answer him,” I instructed in a low voice. “What do you know about Stephen Taylor’s death?”

Rocco flinched. “I know it wasn’t what started the war with Las Almas. Maya and Rogue did that. Isidro didn’t want them together, and the night that Taylor died was the night Isidro realized how serious they were. It divided the clubs.”

Blaze’s gun shook in his hand. “But that has nothing to do with my father.”

“It has everything to do with him. He died protecting Rogue from a shot from Isidro, because of Maya. He sacrificed himself to make the club better.”

“Killing my father did nothing for this club.” He pulled the weapon back, twisting it, so he could hit Rocco in the mouth with the butt of the gun.

Rocco slumped on his side and down onto the floor.

I shook my head. “He doesn’t know shit, Blaze. Don’t let him get to you.”

Blaze growled something under his breath before walking away.

Fuckin’ Rocco. That motherfucker put himself—his greed—ahead of his club. Ahead of his family. My hands fisted at my sides, seeing his pathetic form lying in front of me now, a low growl rumbling in my throat. How could he? I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to believe any of my brothers could be a rat, but there was no denying it any more. And Rocco had to be dealt with—the only way the club dealt with such treachery: permanently.

Trista’d already gotten in her licks, and now it was finally my turn. I leaned over Rocco, and pulled my hand back, landing another punch to his gut. “You goddamned motherfucker. We trusted you. Would have done anything for you, you stupid son of a bitch. And you sell us out? For what?”

Rocco’s head lifted, blood dripping down his face in thick smears. “I know, but just listen. Please, if you could just—”

I didn’t allow him to finish, dealing another blow to his kidneys. My knuckles were raw and bloody, but I didn’t stop. The pain in my hands was nothing compared to the pain I wanted Rocco to feel. “I don’t want to hear your pathetic excuses. If you were in trouble, you come to the club. You let your brothers help you. You do not,” I pulled back, punching again. “Sell us out. There’s no excuse for that shit.”

Rocco wheezed, the air knocked out of his lungs. I knew I should feel pity for the bastard, but I couldn’t see past the blinding rage. Adrenaline surged as I thought back to all the lies he told. For
months
. My jaw tightened.

“I’m sorry,” Rocco wheezed. “I know I fucked up. I know I did.”

“Fucked up doesn’t even begin to cover it, Roc,” I spat. “Just shut your fuckin’ mouth. Your words are as empty as your black soul. We’re all well aware that you’d say just about anything to save your own ass, but, this time, it’s not going to work.”

I punched him square in the jaw, sending blood and one of his teeth shooting across the warehouse floor. Trista eyed Ryder and I from the corner, nodding her head up, and indicating we should go over to her.

“We need to bring this to the club,” she sighed. “As much as I want to just beat that fucker to death right here and now, this needs to be a club decision. We vote.”

Ryder and I nodded, knowing she was right.

“Put him in the van. Make sure he can’t get lose. I’ll call the club and gather everyone.”

Trista pulled her phone out of her back pocket, and began to type furiously, heading toward her bike. Ryder glanced at me and I nodded, knowing we were on the same page.

“She never said in what condition he should arrive to the club,” I smirked. “Round two?”

Ryder’s face lit up and he bumped fists with me. “Round two.”

We took our time getting Rocco back to Raven’s Nest, each of us makin’ damn sure the bastard knew how big of a piece of shit we thought he was. As we pulled up to Raven’s Nest and parked, there were already several members outside waiting, hands fisted, and anger pouring off of them in waves.

Rocco lay still on the floor of the van, no longer pleading and whimpering, hands and feet bound. He was patched long enough to know what happens with this level of betrayal. He knew better than to try to beg for anything different.

Blaze jumped out, conferring with Trista about something. He hadn’t said a word to any of us since hitting Rocco with the gun. I didn’t blame him, poor guy.

I turned back to Rocco. “Better say your fuckin’ prayers,” I spat. “We’re here.”

“Axel? Before we go in, I just wanted to let you know that I’m real proud of the man you’ve become. I watched you growing up in this club from the time you were nothing but a runt kid, and now, well… you’re gonna be a great President one day.”

What the fuck was I supposed to say to that? I nodded, not saying a word.

“It’s okay, Axel. I know my fate is sealed.” Rocco sat up a little on his elbows, and gave me a smile, missing a few teeth from our earlier go-round. “Do what you need to do. No hard feelings, ‘kay?”

“Fuckin’ A, Rocco.” I didn’t bother to respond further. I knew better. The words were as empty as his soul, and anything he said was just him workin’ another angle to benefit only him. I got out, slamming the door, and taking a deep breath before eyeing Ace and Bones. “He’s in the back. Just do me a favor. Tape his mouth shut, too.”

I wasn’t sure if I could handle hearing any more of his sentimental shit, not if I wanted to man up, and do what we needed to do tonight. Pops leaned heavy on his cane, sidled up to me, and clapped me on the shoulder.

“It doesn’t make you less of a man if you can’t do this without at least a few doubts. It makes you more, son.”

I nodded. “I’m just pissed we have to do it at all, Pops.”

He sighed. “You and me both.” We started walking into the club, changing the subject. “How’s that girl of yours? And, when do I get to meet her?”

My smile lifted thinking about Paige. “Surprisingly, after all the shit the Almas put her through, she’s okay. Been workin’ a lot of extra hours and dealin’ with some shit with her roommate, who’s still in the hospital, but the two of us? We’re real good.”

Pops groaned. “Chubs is another problem we need to deal with, but after everything that’s gone down with the Almas and the cars and their guys getting killed, we’re going to need to find another way besides all out war.”

“I know, but we’ve put Chubs on the back burner for too long. I’m more than ready to teach that fuckin’ assholes a few lessons on respect.” My temper rose at the thought, just thinking of how I found Paige that night, bloodied and shaking like a goddamned misfiring engine. I cracked my knuckles, trying to calm the fuck down, but then I thought of Gina, and how she was fighting for her fuckin’ life. Those bastards deserved everything coming to them.

“He’ll get what he deserves,” Pops assured me. “But we take care of our own house first.” He nodded over to where Ace was dragging Rocco across the parking lot.  We were silent for a few somber seconds before Pops spoke again. “So, you’ll bring her by on Sunday?”

I rolled my eyes and chuckled. Pops was like a dog with a bone. There was no way he’d drop it until I agreed, and seeing as we had business to take care of, I relented.  “Yeah, Pops. I’ll bring her on Sunday. But only if you’re making your chicken cacciatore.”

The brief moment of happiness thinking about Paige vanished as we made our way into the club. The anger around the room practically vibrated off the walls.  Ace and Bones had strung up Rocco under the stairs, where the punching bag used to be. I guess the irony fit. As the club members filed passed, and headed into the church to place the final vote, each spit at Rocco’s feet. Pops and I were the last two to go in.

As I moved passed his limp form, I sighed, spitting at his feet as the others had done.

Fuckin’ Rocco.

TWO

AXEL

I took my seat next to Pops at the table before glancing around the room. Everyone looked ready to boil over, and I had no doubts as to which way this vote would go down, not after all the evidence Trista found, and Rocco’s confession.

Rogue spoke up. “We know why we’re here. Just so everyone is one hundred percent sure about their vote tonight, Trista’s gonna go over a few pieces of information.”

Trista nodded and stood. “A lot of shit went down in the last forty-eight hours. As you can see, Rocco isn’t at our table tonight. That’s because he’s strung up under the stairs.”

Pops looked at her confused, “Why?”

Trista smirked; girl had a thing for pain when it was deserved. “Turns out, Black wasn’t after Ace, they wanted Rocco. He’d been selling the parts to them all along. And then, they had the stupidity to go around and sell again, right on our turf. That Red Dragon guy with the Lexus? It was ours. But he bought it from Black, and had no idea where it came from.”

Rogue sighed, “And, how do you know this is all true? That they’re not turning us on ourselves?”
 

“Red Dragons wouldn’t play that way. Plus, we caught Rocco in the act. He was planning on heisting one of the cars we just grabbed from the show. We found him at the warehouse hotwiring the car. Preparing to drive away and never come back. Dirty fucking thief. He admitted he stole the engine, the cars, everything. Said it was time for someone else to run this club. Black pays more than Chen apparently. He wanted us to lose our connection with them, and he would have Black step in, all while pocketing the profits. That’s the last I heard from him, though.”

Bones squinted at her. “Why?”

She cracked her knuckles. “Because that’s when I started hitting him, until he couldn’t speak.”

Rogue let out a weighed breath. “Alright. You all have the information you need. We’ll go around the room. Say your piece. It needs to be unanimous.”

He turned to Trista. “There’s nothing more to say. Aye.”

Ryder followed, his head lowered. “I agree with Trista. Nothing left to say. Aye.”

Around the room the vote went, with everyone voting in the affirmative, myself included. Finally, it got to Pops.

He sighed. “You know, normally, I’m all about second chances. I mean, we all fuck up. I know I have.” He scrubbed his forehead with his hand, rubbing his hands down his face and beard. “But this wasn’t a fuck up. This was intentional. And we can’t give a second chance here. My vote is aye.”

Rogue stood. “So be it.  Ace, take him out to the back of the shop.”

Pops stood, resting his weight on the table. “No, Rogan. I’m the Sergeant at Arms. This is my responsibility.”

“No, Pops…” I tried, but he held up his hand to silence me.

“You sure?” Rogue asked.

Pops nodded once. “Yes. This is my job. The one I was voted to do all those years ago. And it’s the job I will continue to do now.”

As much as I hated that the responsibility fell to Pops, I knew there was absolutely no way of talking him out of it. Loathing grew deep in my gut, burning a hole as memories of the years we spent ridin’ together, all the summer barbeques and nights drinkin’ together flashed through my mind.  We followed as Ace dragged Rocco outside, Pops and Rogue bringing up the rear. This was on me. I was the one who fuckin’ vouched for him when he wanted to patch in. I trusted him. Believed and fell for all of his lies.  His betrayal wasn’t just to the club. It was to me. That’s what pissed me off most of all.

After securing him to one of the car lifts, the MC members made a semi-circle around him, everyone obligated to stand witness to what happens when a member turns rat.

Pops looked defeated, and I knew this was going to affect him. He wasn’t the same guy he was almost thirty years ago when he took the post, and while I knew he could do it, I also knew it would haunt him.

“Rocco Bates, your brothers have voted, found you to be a traitor to your club, and no longer worthy to wear the vest. As such, your punishment for your betrayal has been decided. Do you have anything you’d like to say?”

Rocco’s head was down, his breath coming in short gasps, which probably meant he had a collapsed lung, and was in terrible pain. Good, I thought. He deserved every second of it. He was a fuckin’ pathetic excuse for life.

“Please, just tell my sister in Seattle that I love her. And see that my nieces and her get to at least bury my body. Can you do that?”

Rogue nodded, and Pops stepped forward.

“You brought this upon yourself, Roc.” Pops lifted the revolver to Rocco’s head. He didn’t hesitate as he pulled the trigger, the echo reverberating off the walls as Rocco’s body went limp, blood dripping down his face into a puddle at his feet.

“You brought this upon yourself,” Pops whispered again, the gun slipping from his grip, and onto the ground.