Earning the Cut (Riding the Line Series, Prequel) (9 page)

“You need me, huh?” he growled.
You don’t even fucking know me.

“God, yes,” she moaned, arching into his hand.

“How much do you want it, Jade?”

“Oh, God, so badly Dax. I’m so wet. Please…” she whined, desperately.

“Sounds like you can’t wait, darlin’.” he whispered hotly in her ear. “Maybe we’ll have to do it right here. Right in front of the bar, hmm?”

Jade’s needy moan told him that she was more than willing to engage in a little public fornication. Dax wasn’t really into full-on fucking this chick in full view of the street, but as she writhed against him, her dress riding up above her knees, he could see that Jade wasn’t wearing panties. It would be quick and dirty. Easy. Like her. Jade mewled in anticipation as his hands went to his belt.

“Dax?”

The voice was tinged with shock and dismay. It was a familiar voice. A voice he hadn’t ever expected to hear again. Dax froze, feeling a prickle of shame race down his spine. He untangled his hands from Jade’s tits and turned slowly to face the girl who had abandoned him almost a year ago. It felt like it had been an eternity since he had seen that face.

Dax felt his heart pounding in his chest but he hoped he sounded smoother than his suddenly sweaty palms would suggest. Affecting his now-signature, cocky grin, he stepped away from Jade, hearing her groan with frustration. “Trish. It’s nice to see you.”

He meant it. She looked good. Well, other than the furious expression on her face. Dax took one step towards her but stopped short when Trish threw up her hand, staring at him like she hardly recognized him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked gently. It must be quite a shock for his ex, coming upon him with his hand stuck up some other broad’s dress.

“I-I heard you were working here. I couldn’t find you after graduation. Did the Bodeckers kick you out?”

Dax shrugged sheepishly. “Nah. But it was only a matter of time once I dropped out.”

Trish looked pained. “You dropped out? Was it because of me? Of us?”

“Ahem!” An annoyed voice sounded from behind them. Jade stomped over, adjusting her dress, her huge, fake tits perilously close to spilling out.

Trish, to her credit, didn’t look intimidated at all. She puffed out her equally large, but natural chest, and stared Jade down. Jade looked from Trish to Dax, and opened her mouth as if to protest. Trish shook her head and raised a brow, silently sending the other girl the kind of message that only females seemed to be able to understand. Dax just smiled apologetically, shrugging at Jade. With an audible huff, the tart made her way into Lenny’s, presumably to wait for him. Then, Trish grabbed Dax by the wrist, and hauled him partway down the street.

“What the hell are you doing, Dax? You’re throwing your life away!”

He chuckled at that. “What life, darlin’? The one you were trying to create for me?” At her expression, he sobered. “Look, sweetheart. I appreciate all you did to save me from myself. I wanted to be with you. You’re the one who threw us away. I can’t blame you. If I had your opportunities and smarts, maybe I’d do the same. But this place, these guys…they’re my family now. They had my back when I needed it most. I’m not going anywhere.”

Trish winced. “But Dax,” she whispered, “I-I think I still love you.”

“I know, baby. But you and me….it can’t work. At least, not right now. You’re going to help a lot of people, and I don’t want to be the reason you fail to achieve your dreams.”

She flew into his arms and her mouth found his. When he kissed her, Dax felt that flash of deep emotion, that fleeting something that was missing when he hooked up with females like Jade. Dax stuffed the feeling deep into his guts. He had no use for it. Trish was leaving. He wouldn’t stand in her way, but he wouldn’t wait around like some chump either. With effort, he set her on her feet, determined not to let the tears on her cheeks threaten his resolve.

“Trishelle Wagner, you will always have a part of my heart, darlin’ and don’t forget it. If you ever change your mind, track me down. Promise me.” He gave her a final kiss, again feeling a hint of that tantalizing fire that begged him to ditch everything and everyone and follow her.

“I will Dax. I promise. I um, I hope we can keep in touch.”

He knew that they would. He owed her that much. There was just a lot of this new life that he would have to keep secret. Pushing his hand through his messy, blond hair, Dax walked into Lenny’s. After a few hours, he was buzzed, entertained, and effectively distracted from his interaction with Trish.
This
was his life now, and he felt his heart and his soul grasping onto it with a vengeance.

***

It was late when he woke up feeling like something just wasn’t right. Lenny had taken off with some broad, a hot, older piece with brassy red hair. Apparently, she was an old flame. Dax sighed. There seemed to be a lot of old flames showing up lately. Dax had closed down the bar for the man, leaving Hawk, Crow, and Loony discussing something intently in the private room. Everyone was pretty wasted. It had happened before. In the past when he had been stranded there, Dax had just crashed on Lenny’s upstairs couch and then made himself useful by cleaning up in the morning. He never slept well, but this time he had awakened abruptly from a deep, exhausted sleep.

A rustling sound came from below. Dax’s senses went on high alert. He pulled on his jeans and crept down the narrow side staircase. He didn’t turn on the light, rather he stood for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the dim shapes and shadows. The sound was coming from the private room. Picking up Lenny’s lucky baseball bat from behind the bar, Dax made his way to the door, which stood slightly ajar. He heard an audible “click” and his body took over, reacting instinctively to the sound before his mind could full identify it. It was the sound a slide lock made when it was pulled.

Dax hugged the wall as a single shot rang out followed by a bellow of surprised agony. Grasping the bat with a cold, sweaty palm, he flicked the outer light switch, which turned on the main lights. When his eyes finally beheld the scene in the private room, Dax went cold and part of him just went numb. In his place at the table, Crow slumped forward in a pool of blood. Loony stood over him, a crazed look on his face that morphed into an evil grin as he pointed a gun at Dax’s chest.

Loony laughed as he regarded the bat clenched in Dax’s hand. “Wanna pay ball, kid?”

The red haze took over, and he was glad for it. There was no thought, no feeling, only action in the dulled state of purgatory that overcame Dax when he was really angry…or scared. Someone was shouting and then hands were pulling at him. Dax was catapulted back into his childhood and the memories of being dragged away from his mother. He let out inhuman scream as he was ripped off of Crow, his bloody hands warm and wet from pressing into the older man’s wound to staunch the artery. Flashes from Trish’s human anatomy book burst against his brain. Taking his pressure off the wound would kill the man. He fought the hands like a beast, his palm coming into a nose, hearing a satisfying crunch and then a yelp of pain. Finally, a fist crashed into his jaw, and he welcomed the blackness with the kind of glee only a creature of the night might share.

***

When he woke up, his head pounding, and an icy cold fist constricting his guts, Dax had no idea where he was. He howled against the bars of the steel cage, tearing at his clothing and hair.

“Hey! You there! Quit that racket!”

A flashlight shined into his face, illuminating his surroundings, sobering him almost immediately. It was a place he had hoped he would never see. It was a jail cell.

Taking stock of himself, Dax found that his jaw ached and his left eye was swollen. His hands felt numb. Memories of the night before made uncharacteristic tears come to his eyes. He remembered Loony’s face. He remembered Crow’s inert body. There were snippets of sensation that he didn’t want to explore. The slick feel of blood, the metallic smell in the air, seemed to hang on him like a sick, dark cloud.

Glumly, Dax sat in his cage, itching to get out of it. When it came time to head to the exercise yard however, all he wanted was to get back into the safety of his solitary little cell. He was tall, but he definitely lacked the hardened look of the men inside. A couple of the guys looked at him in a way that was uncomfortably familiar. Those looks, the last time he had endured them, had led to a pair of broken ribs as he fought to protect himself from one of his abusive foster fathers. Still, Dax knew instinctively that if he appeared weak, it would be worse for him. So when a fellow inmate bumped into him and then pushed him, Dax went crazy, turning into a maelstrom of fury. Oddly, the guards didn’t intervene but a group of other guys did, pulling Dax from the other man, who glared back at him threateningly.

“You a
Phantom?”
The one who seemed to be in charge asked, looked at tattoo now exposed beneath the sleeve of Dax’s orange jumpsuit.

Painful, hazy memories flooded his brain as he nodded slowly.
Am I a Phantom?
I guess I am…sort of.
Dax shook his head as if the motion would clear the fog from it. Why was he in jail? It could only mean that Crow was dead.
Fuck, maybe Loony pinned the whole thing on me…

“I’m Grim.”

“Dax.” He looked at the other man warily, and then snuck a furtive glance at the other man.

“Don’t worry about him, kid. We protect our own.”

Dax took a long, hard look at the man called Grim. He was covered in tattoos, his longish brown hair tied in a knot behind his head. A thin, white scar ran from his cheekbone to his chin. Grim stuck out his hand and Dax took it hesitantly. It was his first night of three in jail; of all the experiences he had had, this one was the scariest.

***

“Hey, you! Jamison! You’re sprung. Get the fuck up.”

Dax fought not to scramble to his feet, forcing himself to stand tall, meeting the guard’s gaze for a brief, cold minute, before mutely following him down the corridor. Although he had only been inside a few days, he had adapted to the protective behaviors he had observed among the old-timers. He kept his head down until he passed Grim’s cell. He directed a meaningful glance to the man who sat reading quietly within. Dax owed Grim his ass, literally. He would never forget it.

Hawk waited for him outside the main gate, a serious look on his face. “You okay, kid?”

“No. Not really.”

“Trouble inside? I sent word to our guys.”

“Yeah. They stepped up. Thanks.” Dax said softly. He searched Hawk’s face for some clue about what had happened.

Hawk ushered Dax into a black suburban and they drove in silence for several minutes. Finally, Dax could no longer contain himself. “Crow-is he….is he…?”

“Not for much longer, kid. The bullet lodged in his liver. He doesn’t have much time. I’m taking you to see him now. He’s been asking for you.”

Dax shivered. “It was Loony, man. I tried…” he broke down then, a harsh sob tearing from his throat.

Hawk placed a hand on Dax’s arm as they pulled into the hospital parking lot. “I know kid,” he said, his own voice breaking. “Loony turned. I should have fuckin’ figured. I never trusted his ass.”

The older man removed his dark glasses for a moment to wipe his eyes. Dax could see that they were red and wet. “I’m sorry it took us so long to get you out. Fucking red tape. The cops didn’t know you were one of us. They took Loony’s side at first. Thought you were the shooter.”

“What happens now? To Loony?”

Hawk smiled grimly. “Oh, we already took care of that, son. He’s enjoying a very personal view of the new skyscraper they’re building downtown. From about ten feet under the foundation.”

Perversely, Dax found that he appreciated the sick sort of justice the crew had delivered. “I wish I could have had another go at him.”

Hawk chuckled, but the sound came out tinged with darkness. “Oh, you did a number on him kid. Kept him from making that final shot. Broke a few ribs. You also shattered his fuckin’ jaw. A complete strike out.”

Dax met Hawk’s gaze, and for some reason, the two men began to chuckle. Hawk stepped out of the car and Dax joined him, watching as the older man adjusted his leather. With surprise, Dax saw that he was wearing Crow’s patch.
President.

“He’s really not going to make it, is he?”

“He’s in bad shape, kid. But he knows you risked your own life for him. He wants you to know that.”

Dax nodded as they entered the hospital. “Fuck, man. I hate the fucking hospital.”

“I feel you, kid. Too many ghosts.” Hawk shuddered as they got into the elevator and headed up to the ICU.

Seeing the man he had perceived as so strong and invincible in such a frail state made Dax’s heart hurt. Hawk cleared his throat. Crow opened his eyes and gestured weakly, beckoning Dax closer. Carefully, Dax sank down in the chair next to the man’s hospital bed. For a moment, all he could hear was his own heart beating amid the swishing sounds of the machines keeping his old friend alive.

“Hey, kid.” Crow’s voice was so weak and brittle.

“Crow, I’m so sorry. If I had woken up earlier…”

Crow shook his head. “No, kid. This was my mistake. Got greedy. Trusted the wrong guy.” The dying man summoned Dax closer with a labored cough.

“Heard you held me together with your bare hands, kid.” He grasped Dax’s hands and looked at them in wonder.

Dax could say nothing. He nodded, perilously close to breaking down. Crow made eye contact with Hawk, who approached the bedside, his head lowered.

“Take care of the club.”

Hawk nodded. “I will, boss.”

“Hawk!”

Hawk looked up at the sharp tone in Crow’s voice. “Yes?”

“Give this kid a cut.”

Dax’s head jerked up in surprise, feeling his head begin to move in denial.
No!
I failed him.
He’s dying!
I don’t deserve shit…

“You earned it, kid. Wear it well.” Crow said, the ghost of a grin appeared on his pain-lined face.

“But…”

“Don’t argue with a dying man’s last wishes, kid.” Crow’s eyes closed.