Page 12 of Savior
He shrugs my hand off of him, turning to walk over to the bench, and grabs his bottle of water. He chugs a few gulps down, his back to me. I notice the new outline of the Saviors MC rocker tatted on his flesh. He takes a breath, and after a few moments, says, “You kept me in the dark about everything… And then… you almost died.”
“I didn’t single you out, Axel. Only Viking and Jason knew that night… There wasn’t any time to-”
“You wouldn’t have told me anyway, and you could have fucking died!” he whirls around on me now, pain and anger in his red rimmed eyes. “I stood there with Vanna in your hospital room for hours watching over you.” He points his finger at my chest, centimeters from jabbing me with it. Axel is the only man alive I’d willingly take that from. “I cleaned up the pools of blood in your cabin after you woke up and the doctors said you would be okay. All by myself.” His jaw clenches as he fights the quiver in his bottom lip. I pretend not to notice, for his sake. “Buckets of bloody water, Dean… Most of it, probably your blood, from the looks of you that night. But I did it. For you.”
I don’t know what to say, so I let him unleash his pent-up frustration on me as I stand before him, feeling increasingly more like shit. An upset Axel is a rare sight to behold… And I’m responsible for this. This rage mixed with pain in his eyes. I fuckin’ put it there. Hooking my thumbs in my denim pockets, I stand and take what I’ve got coming to me.
“You think I’m just a kid. That I can’t handle anything.” He goes on, a slight tremble in his voice now. “I’m a man, Dean.” One of his balled-up fists, slams against his chest with a thud, before dropping back to his side. “Just like the rest of you.”
But you are different, Axel… You’re pure. Truly good and without blemish or sin tainting your soul… Unlike the rest of us.
Axel has a place in Heaven waiting for him. Has all along. The rest of us… the shit we’ve done… We’re all still trying to earn our way in.
“Axel, I never meant to make you feel any less.” I say with a sincerity I hope he can hear. “I call you kid out of love, brother… And I’m sorry you saw what you did in the cabin… When Viking said the mess was taken care of, I assumed he hired a cleaning crew… I didn’t know you saw any of that.”
I’m a little pissed off that Viking even let Axel handle that situation on his own. Though, I know now, Axel would be even more pissed at me for feeling this way about it.
“But I did. I handled it.” He reiterates. “I got the job done.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t think to tell you what was going on that night, but I’m glad you were at the hospital when I woke up.” I don’t know what else to say to him.
Axel nods at first, then scoffs and shakes his head. He walks past me to grab his shirt and slips it back on, shoving his arms through the sleeves and yanking it down his torso. Then grabs his cut and slings it around his shoulders, sliding it on as well.
“I’ve got to get out on the floor with Viking.” He says, about to walk out and head to the bar. “Earn my damn keep.”
“Axel, I wouldn’t have left you all this,” I tell him, gesturing to the room around us in reference to the entire club house, “If I didn’t fully expect you to be president of this MC one day.”
“Yeah, thanks for that.” He says, but his tone sounds anything but grateful, or convinced. He won’t meet my eyes.
“Axel…” I’m at a loss for words beyond that.
He finally lifts his face. “Just tell me one thing. I know Viking will always be your first call, as Sergeant at Arms, and your best friend… but, had there been time, would youhave called me? Do I even make the cut as someone you can rely on in a dangerous situation?”
“Axel, I don’t even know how to tell you how much you mean to me…” I begin to say, before he cuts me off again.
“That’s not what I asked you!” he shouts at me. “I know you love me, Dean. I need to know if you are capable of seeing me as a grown man you can rely on! I need to know if I make the cut! Literally!”
“You more than make the cut. I trust you implicitly, Axel.” Though I know now, I can’t tell him that my first instinct is, and will always be, to protect him. To keep him out of harm’s way. Not when he’s equating my concern for his wellbeing, with belief that he’s not capable. That he’s a lesser man than the rest of us. He isn’t. He’s better than all of us.
“Then just show me. And I’ll showyou, there’s nothing I can’t handle that any of these other guys can.” He insists.
“Alright.” I concede, though I can’t ignore the slight feeling of trepidation this promise stirs within me as I stare at him. The boy I met at eight years old. Looked after for thirteen years. Now a man, demanding to be treated as such. I know there’s a war coming with the Chrome Demons. Their silence is only the calm before the storm… Why now, does Axel have to come into his own?
“We’re fine, Dean.” He says, a disheartened look still lingering in his eyes. “You’ll see me one day.”
“I see you, Axel.” I sigh. “I’ve always seen you.”
He nods, though I know I’ll have to prove it.
When we walk out to the Twisted Throttle, Vanna is behind the bar with Cherry. They’re laughing and dancing together to Tom Petty’s American Girl, drying shot glasses and tending to customers. Laying eyes on my angel instantly calms some of the turmoil in my soul over Axel and everything else. I can’t help but smile as I watch her and Cherry singing along with the song. It warms my heart to see her becoming more and more at ease, despite the few weeks off harassment we both suffered through with the local media. She seems more at home in this roadhouse. Around my crew. In this little town. I’m glad for it. She is home.
Axel slaps me on the back of my cut and I turn to find him smiling at me, as if to reassure me that everything really is fine between us. I fight the urge to mess up his hair, offering him a fist bump instead. As Axel walks off to join a few of the prospects hanging by the pool tables, I shift my attention back to Vanna behind the bar.
With the reassembling of the Saviors MC under my leadership, as well as the addition of a few more prospects, we’ve attracted a slew of new Lady Lays that are eager to make themselves useful around the club. Which is fine by me. If the women are running drinks all night, trying to get themselves noticed as being helpful and attentive to patrons and my MC brothers, that’s less time Vanna has to spend on the floor. Not only does it make her job easier, I also like her better behind the bar. Separated to a slight degree, from the riff raff. Especially if she’s going to be dancing, like she is now. Like she’s been, having her fun with Cherry.
I try to keep my territorial, possessive male urges in check. As long as she’s behind the bar, I’m not going to encroach on her fun. She deserves a taste of freedom after surviving Jack Nero. If Vanna wants to dance, she can dance. God knows I’ve worried about far worse in regards to her feeling out, and exercising her new found freedom.
She’s looking like a total fox tonight, in her strategically slashed Saviors MC shirt. The jeans she’s wearing are tight with leather crisscross stitching running down the sides of both legs, hip to ankle, and the pair of Harley Davidson motorcycle boots I got her for Christmas. Her dark hair is long and layered, and I don’t think she’s wearing a stitch of makeup. She doesn’t need it. My girl is a natural beauty. My curvaceous enchantress. Rocking my ring, my mother’s diamond, on her left finger. She never takes it off, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. The only thing she needs to top it all off, is my cut. My Property Of patch on her back. Someday soon, she will be wearing it.
