Blood Vow (Black Dagger Legacy #2)(34)

ELEVEN


The call came in to Axe’s Brotherhood-issued cell phone at around four a.m., and he answered it as he sat in front of the fire in his father’s cottage.

“Hello,” he answered.

Sure as if he had conjured her up out of nowhere, the female he had been thinking about non-stop said, “Hi, it’s Elise.”

“Did I get the job?”

There was a pause. “Yes, you did. The other bodyguard that came was a female, and my father—”

“Would never have hired her. Yeah, I guessed.”

“Um … is there any way you could come back to the house? My sire would like you to sign some documents and then I thought we could talk a little more about the next couple of nights? I’m not sure we ironed out how many evenings—”

“Give me ten minutes.”

“Ah, okay. All right. Thank you.”

Axe ended the call and sat there with his phone in his hand. And three … two … one—

Sure enough, the call from Peyton came in next. And Axe didn’t bother with a greeting, he just accepted it and kept the phone where it was, down by his thigh.

Through the tiny little ear speaker, the male went off, his voice all treble. “Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell kind of lies did you tell them? You have no business—none!—guarding my cousin. You are—”

Axe put the phone up to his ear. “Not your decision, Peyton. Sorry—”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Axe cranked his head around to the front door. “Are you kidding me.”

“Open your fucking door!” came the demand.

Axe ended the connection and got up, his knees cracking. Muttering under his breath, he went over, cranked the knob, and opened up.

“FYI, I don’t lock this place,” he said in a bored tone. “Next time you come to rant at me, just walk on in.”

As he pivoted away, he had every faith that Peyton would ride his ass, and surprise!, surprise!, that’s what the aristocrat did, marching through the little room toward the fire.

“What, you can’t turn the heat up?” Peyton snapped. “And it’s dark as a cave as well as cold as fuck.”

“Are rich people like you bred to be judgmental? Or does it just happen because of all the money?”

“This is not a fucking game, asshole!”

Axe pivoted and rolled his eyes at the guy. “Do I look like I’m playing Monopoly over here?”

Peyton got right up in his shit. “Tell them you’re not going to do it. Or I will.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Coming in here and trying to order me around? You don’t know me, we’re not kin, and what I do on my free time is none of your fucking business.”

“Deny that you want her. Go on, lie to my face and tell me that you don’t want her—and then you can piss around a whole lot of bullshit that you’re going to be even halfway professional in this!”

“FYI, Richie Rich”—Axe jabbed two fingers into the SOB’s chest—“I’ve spent all my life around things I can’t have. So I’m really fucking used to it. And you should feel pretty cocksucking good about that. That’s what you people do, right. You look down your noses at commoners like me.”

“You’re a male. This has got nothing to do with where you come from.”

“Ohhhh, okay, right. So males can’t have any self-control. None at all.”

“They can’t! Don’t be a little bitch—”

“So you’re fucking Paradise, then. Behind Craeg’s back. Got it. Good to know.”

The guy frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Axe smiled coldly and leaned in. “You want that female. You want her so fucking bad you can taste it. I see you looking at her, pretending like you’re smooth and shit. But you ain’t. So, yeah, if males can’t exercise self-control, then clearly you’ve got your dick in her mouth—”

The right hook came flying in at a perfect angle, and you want to talk about a light show? As contact was made, Axe’s head snapped up and over, his brain going loose-cannon in his skull, his vision briefly browning out.

“You’re fucking deluded, man,” Peyton spat. “You’re totally—”

Twice. In less than twenty-four hours. The douche bag punches him twice.

Axe pulled the gun he kept tucked in his waistband out and put it to the guy’s temple so quick, Peyton didn’t have time to step back. “The safety’s off. And I have nothing to lose. So how ’bout we start with you never fucking hitting me again. You got two shots on me. The third will put you in a grave.”

Peyton blinked. A couple of times. And Axe met him right in the eyes just so the male knew how dead serious he was.

“Get out,” Axe said in a low voice.

“You’re wrong about me and Paradise. She’s with her male. She picked him. I’ve never been with her and I never will be. So you just drop that bullshit—and if you don’t call Elise’s father right now, I’ll go over there myself and tell him you’re out. You are not getting into that house—”

Axe moved the gun to the side a thin inch and pulled the trigger. The pop was loud; the impact of the bullet in the wall was louder.