Page 33 of Axle's Angel
Roman chuckles, turning dark eyes to me, “Yeah babe, he checks on you constantly. I think he’s scared you’re going to disappear again.”
“Oh.”
“He’ll get better the longer you’re back in his life,” Roman reassures me.
“Okay.” We sit in silence and people-watch for a little while when I see North stride through the crowd, greeting people as if he knows them well. Which he does, as he’s been in Garret’s life for years. I met him this morning, and I liked him.
He was everything Garret had said he was. Although he was still carrying demons. He hid them or maybe controlled them by participating in underground fights. Fights that clearly worried Garret.
He scans the area until he sees me and Roman. Raising a hand in greeting, he goes to a cooler and grabs two beers and a soft drink. His long strides eat up the ground between us.
“You two looked thirsty,” he says, handing Roman one of the beers and me the soft drink before climbing onto the table on my other side. Sandwiching me between the two of them.
“Thanks, North,” I say, popping open the can and taking a sip.
“No worries, Angel. Garret sent me over to check on you. He’ll be done with the client soon.”
Warmth fills my belly and spreads through me that he’d been worried enough about me to send North.
“Thanks,” I bump North with my shoulder. “Appreciate it. I’m not used to so many people and until Siera and the girls arrive, I only know you and Roman. It’s a little overwhelming, although everyone’s been very nice.”
Roman chuckles and slants his eyes towards me. “That’s because Garret gave us all a warning this morning.”
I turn to Roman in surprised shock. “No! He did?”
“Yeah, look,” Roman replies, handing me his phone. His text messages are open.
Axle–Yo, fuckers. It’s Angel’s first day meeting all of you. Be cool, yeah, or I’m only going to let the appies work on your bikes for the next month.
There’s a bunch of shit talk in the threads below, but after the first one I don’t read any more. Laughing softly, I hand Roman’s phone back to him, shaking my head at the ridiculousness of men but also absolutely thrilled that Garret had taken the time to make sure I was okay today. I hadn’t realised that he’d known how nervous I was.
“Love the man,” I whisper under my breath.
“He’s a good man,” Roman agrees with a nod. “Kept me on the straight and narrow for years. Same for North.”
North nods. “Roman’s right, Angel. Axle’s one of the best, but then you already know that.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “I know.”
The three of us sit quietly, lost in our own thoughts when there’s a sudden flurry of activity amongst the bikers who until then had been milling around chatting amongst themselves.
“I guess Siera and the girls have arrived,” I say, amusement lacing my tone. That amusement increases when I feel Roman tense next to me.
Garret told me of his obsession with Siera. I won’t interfere; Siera is more than capable of looking after herself, and Roman is a good man, but he’d have his work cut out for him when it came to her. She had scarcely looked at a man since Caleb passed away. I understood. He’d been a good man taken too soon, and she’d grieved for a long time after he’d passed. Then there were the girls, the business and we’d got busy. Life was like that, but I had to admit that I selfishly hoped she’d give Roman a chance.
“You guys really like the whole hippie thing, huh,” North comments.
“What do you mean?”
“Angel,” he grins at me, “you hardly scream biker chick with the whole Boho thing you have going on, and neither does your sister.”
Looking down, I frown. I’m wearing my favourite jeans; they’re old, soft, worn and fit like a glove, slouched brown boots with tassels and turquoise embellishments. My top is cream and is gauzy with flouncy sleeves that are cuffed at the wrist. I’ve gota tank top under it as it’s completely see-through. My belt is handmade, also with turquoise embellishments and tassels.
Lifting my head, I look at Siera who is wearing one of her loose, flowing dresses that clings to her in all the right places. She’s got her favourite cowboy boots on, and her usual plethora of bracelets and rings. Her hair is hanging loose around her shoulders, and she laughs at something Tru says.
Next to me Roman tenses, then sighs. Tru and Janis are in their usual jeans, boots, and band t-shirts. Tru has her bright red hair in a high pony, and Janis has hers in two braids.
I shrug, because I think we look good. We have our own style, and I don’t care if nobody cares for it.
