Axl (Sons of Chaos MC #1) by Riley Rollins

Author:Riley Rollins [Rollins, Riley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 0692705759
Amazon: B01F0SSM6U
Publisher: Dolch Press LLC
Published: 2016-04-28T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22: Holly

I exited the convenience store, leaving the temporary air-conditioned paradise and returning to the baking outdoors. It was late in the afternoon, and the desert day had reached peak hotness.

Axl stood next to his bike, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot. As I approached him, I saw that he held a lit cigarette between his fingers. He held the other hand over his injured shoulder, blocking the bloodied and torn bullet hole from any nosy passers-by. I felt sorry for him. But he looked even more like a handsome movie star badass than before.

Damn. If only he’d gotten picked up by a Hollywood agent instead of a dirty biker club, his life would’ve turned out a lot differently.

“Didn’t know you smoked,” I said.

“Bummed it off a guy. Only on special occasions.”

He brought the cigarette to his lips and took another drag. “What now?” I asked. No one was within earshot, but my voice came out almost a whisper.

“Gotta split ASAP. Cops are gonna get our description.”

“They’ll be looking for a guy and a girl on a motorcycle,” I said. Suddenly I felt very nervous about standing next to Axl and his bike, here in the convenience store parking lot.

Axl thought a moment. “Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “Gotta ditch the bike.” He sighed.

Axl finished up his smoke, grabbed a couple things from the bike’s saddlebags, and said, “Come on.” We left the bike sitting there and headed around the back of the store. A couple cars sat parked next to a large dumpster.

“Looks like we’re driving a fuckin’ cage today,” Axl said.

He proceeded to jimmy open the driver’s door of a crappy little Honda hatchback using a piece of wire from the dumpster. I eyed the rear employee exit of the store nervously as he did so, and it felt like days passed. But in reality he had the thing busted open and started in what was probably less than two minutes.

We got in the “cage,” as he called it, and hit the road again.

I watched the passenger side mirror nervously throughout the whole ride, watching for blue and red lights in the background. They didn’t come. Thank God.

Axl took us to a small town whose name I didn’t know, and we found a dinky little military surplus store.

“You’ve gotta go in alone,” said Axl, “Can’t do it myself with this shoulder.” His jacket was badly stained and caked with blood. Yeah. That would’ve been a mistake.

He sent me in with a short list, and I got us changes of clothes, a small tent, and a couple boxes of freeze-dried foods. I wasn’t looking forward to eating this crap, but what choice did we have? We were now two fugitives on the run, and I guessed we weren’t gonna be staying in any more motel rooms for a while.

We filled up the car and then we drove again. We sat in silence in the stolen vehicle. I could tell that Axl’s mind was troubled. Not because of his hurt shoulder, but because of something else.

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