Perceive by K E Osborn
KENZI
With a firm tug, I wrap Axel’s leather jacket a little tighter around me as the car pauses at a large set of gates, almost as intimidating as the ones outside the Malice MC compound. Kace rolls his window down at a small speaker box protruding from the ground, murmuring quietly under his breath before reaching out and pressing a button at the front.
The metallic face of the panel rolls upward, a shiny glass screen appearing inside where Kace places his palm, holding it for a few seconds before it lights green. The gates ahead instantly begin to slide open, and I look over to Axel, my eyebrow raised questioningly.
He smirks and diverts his gaze, giving me nothing as usual.
Huffing under my breath, I turn my attention back to the window, squashing my face up against the cold glass as I try to figure out just where the hell we’re going. Brick walls disappear into the distance on each side of the vehicle, fading into the darkness.
The street lights highlight a suburban street ahead. This place is new, it’s different, and it has me completely confused. I’m almost positive we should be headed back to The Agency, to my cozy little cell.
Everything that happened tonight was because of me, because of my moment of freedom that quickly became something more like a moment between life and death.
My stomach twists and turns like two hands gripping my insides and squeezing, even as I mentally repeated the doctor’s words over and over in my head.
He’s going to be just fine.
He’s going to be just fine.
They should make me feel better—but they don’t.
Damn Ruin had to be the freaking hero.
Why? Why were these people so determined to protect me after what I thought of them, after the way I treated them? Those bullets, they were my karma, at least they should have been.
It’s a hard pill to swallow when you know that you’ve spent years cursing the names and memories of the people who have spent those same years searching for you, loving you, wanting so desperately to protect you.
The car surges forward, the large gates closing behind us, my eyes growing wider as I take in the beautiful homes lining the streets. Each one is an exact replica of the one before—two-story, a double garage to the left and a sweet little porch to the right where the front door sits proudly.
The cream-color paneling is dull under the dim street lights, but even in the shadows, you can tell just how clean and crisp everything is.
It’s almost like driving through Pleasantville.
Kace takes a left, driving us further into the maze of houses with no identifying features. This time, though, the street comes to a private cul de sac. He coasts into the driveway of the house right at the end, pulling the SUV up close to the garage door before throwing it into park. I can’t help but eagerly scan the surroundings, distracted for a second by the lights that were following us as they pull into other driveways on the street. I know they’re members of Axel’s team, the other two cars having followed in close convoy the entire way home.
“You live in a commune?” I question when Axel pulls my door open.
He chuckles softly, offering me his hand to help me down from the oversized vehicle. “I don’t know if that’s the word I would use.”
“It’s the word I would use!” Lily calls over her shoulder as she heads for the front door. She pauses for a second, handbag in her hand. “You guys wanna come in for a something to eat?”
Axel shakes his head. “It’s getting late, we’ll grab something at home. This one needs to rest,” he explains, nodding at me.
Before offering Lily a thankful smile, I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Apparently, I need to rest,” I echo sarcastically, drawing a soft giggle from her. “Maybe we can catch up soon?”
I can’t say tomorrow. Or this week. Or next. Because I simply have no freaking idea where I will be. What I’ll be doing or even if I’ll be here.
Axel presses his hand to my back, directing me toward the footpath with a subtle nod to Kace.
“Luca and Noah will be around for the next few hours,” Kace explains simply, following Lily to their front door, his body slipping in behind her with his hands on her hips. “I’ll take over with Eli in the morning. Let me know when you’re up and ready to go. I want to get this shit done and this dickhead removed.”
“Gotcha,” Axel agrees, his brow furrowed. His arm slips around my waist almost naturally as he guides me down the driveway to the sidewalk. The air is cold, a sharp chill stinging my cheeks, but what do you expect at three in the morning? Thankfully, we’re only three houses down when I find myself being directed into another identical driveway.
This time, the path to the front porch is a little simpler, not lined with flower beds, no potted plants sitting outside or hanging from the porch roof.
Instead, there’s a simple hedge.
Cut sharp and straight.
No shit.
Nothing fancy.
Could a house be more Axel?
I might not be able to remember the Axel from our past and who he was then, but I’m becoming entirely aware of the type of person he is now. I’m getting to know him—his likes, his dislikes, his passions, his love for his club and family. The man doesn’t do fluff or fancy. For him, the world is almost black and white. All he needs is the people he loves and this strong sense of doing what’s right—no matter how or what he has to do to accomplish that feat. The trip to the clubhouse had solidified those observations and after just one night, I feel like I know more about him than I ever would have discovered had we never left The Agency.
That part alone still has me confused.
That place is different.
It’s complicated.
The Agency—it’s not him.
So how the hell did he end up there?
“You hungry?” Axel questions after working over the three different electronic type gadgets that are needed just to get the front door open. We step inside, and he instantly locks the door behind us before helping me shrug off his heavy leather jacket that, although it’s warm and comforting, is weighing me down tremendously. I roll my shoulders as he pulls open a small coat closet beside the front door, placing it inside before nodding for me to follow him.
“I could eat,” I admit with a little encouragement from my growling stomach. Axel flicks a few light switches as he brushes by, and I blink furiously, trying to fight the bright lights as they illuminate the short entry which leads toward a sparkling kitchen just ahead.
Everything is new, modern, and practically sparkling, making me wonder for a second if we just walked inside some display home that he uses on the odd occasion.
“Do you actually live here?” I wonder out loud, my eyes circling the room a couple of times, taking in the expensive fixtures and untouched-looking furniture. When I finally stop, feeling slightly dizzy and a lot in awe, I find him in the kitchen, standing at the stovetop. The shirt he was wearing has been stripped off, replaced by a black wife beater that hugs every damn muscle on his torso.
The sight draws me in, my body floating toward the huge kitchen island with white marble countertops. I pull myself onto one of the stools, watching him as he grabs a pot from the cupboard and turns to face me holding a box of instant mac and cheese.
“I live here when I want to,” he answers, tearing at the top of the box with his teeth and pulling a packet from inside. “When I’m not on-call or working, I stay down at the clubhouse. Feels more like home down there than I think this could ever feel.”
My head bobs up and down.
I’ve already felt that.
This is not him.
This big, fancy house for one person. Axel is a family man and grew up in a clubhouse full of people, what I can only imagine didn’t give anyone a moment of silence, space, or alone time.
But when that’s what you know, it becomes comfort.
That becomes home.
I spot a strange-looking little rock sitting on top of the kitchen counter and pick it up. An odd sense of familiarity rushes through me as I check it over. “You collect rocks?”
He glances over his shoulder, a warmth emanating from him as he smiles at me. “It’s yours, actually.”
Unladylike, I let out a snort, checking out the small object with drawn-on eyes that are half warn off. “Mine? This thing looks ancient.”
He chuckles. “It’s from when we were kids. It’s a pet rock.”
Letting out a small laugh, I place it back down on the counter. “A pet rock? I had a pet rock?”
“Well, technically, you made it and gave it to me. So, I guess it’s mine.”
My chest squeezes that he’s kept this for so many years. “How young was I when I made this?”
He glances up to the ceiling like he’s thinking my question through. “Maybe… like six?”
Giggling, I shake my head. “My artistic skills needed some improvement.”
“You were six!”
“And that thing is hideous. I can’t believe you kept it.”
His eyes meet mine, and understanding flows through us. He doesn’t need to say anything. I know it’s because I was his world. An energy pulses through the air between us, but I clear my throat turning my attention to the concoction he’s creating on the stove. “Are you making mac and cheese from a box?” I screw my nose up as I watch him pour the packet of pasta and powdery cheese mix into a pot with some milk and butter.
He snorts loudly, not even bothering to turn back and look at me as he reaches across the counter, pulling a giant spoon from the drawer and stirring the strange concoction. “Trust me, you love this stuff.”
“Uhh…” I almost argue, the idea of cheese in a powdered form with some pasta that’s God knows how old, being anything I want to put in my mouth seems like a far stretch. But honestly, I don’t know what the point is anymore. I really should have learned my lesson by now.
The fact is, Axel knows me.
He knows me better than I know me.
Better than Hendrix claims he knows me.
And he proves it twenty minutes later when I scarf down an entire bowl of boxed mac and cheese and then some, and it’s damn good.
“Well, then…” I mutter, sweeping my finger through the leftover cheesy goodness that coats the bowl before depositing it onto my tongue. “I stand corrected.”
Axel grins, trying to cover his smugness by lifting his bowl closer to his mouth, but I can see it loud and clear. “I know you.”
“I know you too,” I argue back, placing my bowl on the small coffee table next to the large cloud-like sofa we’re sitting on at opposite ends. Wrapping my arms around my body, I wiggle deeper into the cushions. “I may not know your favorite food or how old you were when you learned to ride a bike, but I know this…” I swirl my finger around the fancy room, “… is not where you want to be.”
He places his half-empty bowl next to mine and sits a little taller. “You’re right, it’s not.”
My brows pull together. “Then why are you here? Why are you working for The Agency?”
“Because of you.” His eyes hold mine. They’ve hardened from the playfulness that had been present just a few minutes ago, but it’s his words I find wrapping themselves around my gut and squeezing like an anaconda. “I never intended on doing anything other than joining the army, serving my time, and going back to the club.”
“What changed?” I ask with a slight croak, though I’m sure I already know the answer.
He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “You disappeared… into thin air. Fucking poof. And everything changed.”
Pulling my knees to my chest, I wrap my arms around them and rest my chin on the top, feeling like a little girl listening to a fairy tale. Only, this fairy tale is about me, and its happy ending is still to be determined.
“We tried to find you, pulled in favors with other clubs, got ourselves in debt with the kinds of assholes you don’t want to owe favors to,” he explains, each word making my eyes burn more, that tickling feeling crawling up my throat as I know tears are approaching. “Dad used to work for The Agency. He knew if anyone could, they would find you, so he asked for their help. But Kace’s mom, Camilla, was running things at the time, and she said they only do that shit for people who worked for The Agency. So I joined.”
I clear my throat, trying to remove the lump that’s formed. “You’ve been risking your life for them, for six years, on the off chance that they might find me,” I state, squeezing myself a little tighter. “Why? I could have been in fucking Australia. Or Poland. Or Zimbabwe.”
A smirk curls at the corner of his mouth. “We checked there.”
“I could have been dead!”
“But I knew you weren’t,” he growls, leaping to his feet. I feel his heavy footsteps in my chest as he stomps back and forth across the room, sweeping his fingers through his hair and dragging those long loose strands away from his face. I uncurl my body and slowly get to my feet, following him around the back of the sofa.
“I knew you weren’t dead. I knew you were out there.” When he pulls to a sharp stop right in front of me, I lean back into the sofa, digging my fingers into the fabric. Axel is intimidating. Not because he’s scary, but because of the effect he has on my body. It’s something I can’t fight. Something I’ve felt the moment I set eyes on him beneath the desert while the fucking world was literally crumbling at my feet.
I didn’t even know who he was back then.
I just knew he was important.
Those deep blue eyes burn through me from beneath his thick, black lashes. They’re dark and stormy, and when he takes a step closer, it feels like a cyclone building, sucking the air from the room.
Each breath becomes a little shakier while his hands inch forward, hovering over my hips. The way my tongue snakes out and wets my lips gives him the silent permission he’s looking for and suddenly, his hands are on me, lifting me off the floor and sitting me on the back of the large, heavy sofa.
I gasp, reaching for him, wrapping my hands around his neck to hold myself steady while he nudges my legs apart and steps in between them. The heat that radiates off him is so addictive, like a flickering fire in the winter that warms your body all the way through.
One of his arms wraps around my waist, holding my body tightly against his, while the other slides up my neck and cups my jaw gently, his fingers moving in my hair. With just a breath of air between us, I refuse to move, to speak, to do anything that might result in him pulling away again like he did earlier.
I know I overreacted then.
I know I threw everything back in his face.
Because I was embarrassed.
Because I was confused.
He was trying to do what was right, and he was trying to do it for me. Yet, I couldn’t help but be a fucking brat.
This time, I’m letting him lead, and anywhere he’s going, I will happily follow.
The only thing I can hear is our breathing. With our noses barely touching and his thumb stroking my cheek, it feels like the world around us doesn’t exist.
“I don’t know if you will ever feel the connection I feel, but it’s something I can’t explain,” he whispers, his gaze holding mine like he’s hoping I can see inside his mind. “It’s like… like my fucking soul is so connected to yours, that if you died, I almost feel like I would drop fucking dead too. That’s how I knew.”
I press my lips together nervously before I gain the courage to speak. “Thank you,” I murmur, tugging on his neck a little as I lean forward and press my forehead to his, letting my eyes fall shut. “Thank you… for not giving up on me.”
“I’ll never fucking give up on you,” he rasps. “I promise.”
“Same,” I croak, finally ready to let everything go and move forward. “Same.”
“Fuck.”
I can’t help but smile at the soft curse, but it’s his lips pressing to mine that catches me off guard. His fingers slip up further into my hair, twisting into the long thick strands and pulling gently as he tilts my head to the side. My nails scratch at the back of his neck, digging into his skin as I urge him closer, though I know it’s impossible given we are already wrapped so tightly together.
His soft lips challenge mine, slowly building, the need becoming more and more frantic.
I just want him.
To touch him, to feel him, to have his energy surrounding me.
It’s something else, something I never imagined I would ever feel. It’s love, it’s protection, but it is also acceptance. He knows what I’ve done, he knows I may never remember the past we had, but he’s okay with simply having the future.
That’s all I can give him, and this is him telling me that’s all he needs.
Tap, tap.
We both jump, Axel with a lot less panic as he pulls his gun from the back of his jeans and points it directly at the sliding doors that lead off the living room to the large patio outside.
“Fucking asshole,” Axel curses, shaking his head.
I finally turn to look, my heart only slowing in speed when I spot a grinning Luca standing on the other side of the door. He has a gorgeous dog on a leash and is dressed in all black, making him hard as hell to see in the darkness. Luca raises his free hand to cup his mouth and presses it to the glass. “Finally!” The murmured sound instantly makes me laugh, and I press my face into Axel’s neck, trying to hide the red flush spreading quickly across my cheeks.
Axel groans and pulls back, helping me down from the back of the sofa before yelling back at his friend. “Go watch your porn somewhere else, asshole!”
Luca’s grin only grows wider, and he throws us an enthusiastic thumbs up before stepping back off the patio and instantly fading into the darkness.
“You should get curtains or something,” I joke, leaning into him and noticing the way his muscles are now tight and on full alert, our moment now gone. “Your neighbors are nosey.”
He hums low in his throat. “You’re telling me.” Pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head, he gives me a tight squeeze before stepping back. “Come on. Let’s get some sleep before he comes back.”