The Lies Of Dawn

C H A P T E R 10

That night Celia fell asleep in Ax's house.

His arms were wrapped around her small frame but he had not let himself sleep. His mind was troubling him. Plenty of things had happened during these past few days and he wasn't sure of how to react. The little dove in his arms had helped him forget about the bad parts such as his meeting with Bruce and Mick. She was in his bed every night and they lost their selves in each other. Their passion could have been characterized as poetic but Ax was a pragmatist and such terms did not appeal to him.

They were polar opposites in that aspect. While Ax did not care for the philosophical side of things, Celia couldn't help but give in to that part of her soul. However, that wasn't the reason why Celia fled the scene of the crime every single night.

She always claimed that she couldn't stay due to personal reasons but her excuses were rather suspicious.

Ax grew more and more annoyed each time she left. But in a way, he realised that it was better if they continued like that. He didn't want to suck her into his world of darkness. She didn't deserve that. She might have been physically pure anymore, he had made sure of that but that did not mean that he also wanted to taint her soul.

After his fight, all he wanted was to seek comfort in her warm body. And that was exactly what he did. Celia had fallen asleep shortly after and Ax didn't have the heart to wake her up so that she could pack her things and leave him alone. Part of him didn't want to be left in the darkness with his equally stygian thoughts.

But another part was oddly satisfied with her decision to share his bed for something as mundane and personal as sleeping. She was the type of person that had running tendencies. She wasn't a decidophobic but her past had made her realize that she should spear herself heartache whenever she could.

Her head was resting at the crook of his neck, her breath slightly tickling his feverish skin. She looked peaceful in her sleep and Ax could not help but wonder how that must feel. But little did he know, Celia was a victim of severe nightmares for the past five, almost six, years. Nevertheless, she felt secure in his arms and for once sleep was not claiming the role of an enemy but of a long lost friend.

The same couldn't be said about the mechanic.

Ax's nightmares involved monsters hiding beneath their flimsy skin that perverted others from seeing their true form. They involved the long nights in prison, the nights where not even bars made of steel could keep him safe.

He remembered his time in jail vividly. All those sleepless nights with fear and resentment crawling under his skin. At first, he had wanted to end the M.C. wholly. He wanted them all dead but he soon realized how reckless and foolish his plan was. He wasn't Al Pacino in Scarface, he couldn't arrive at the clubhouse and kill the bastards while smirking and saying 'Say Hello To My Little Friend'. Reality wasn't a fucking Hollywood production.

So, with a heavy heart, he settled for killing Bruce and letting Mick take over. Mick had always been an idealist and needed to hold on to the thought that he could return the club to its former glory, take it back to a time when Bruce's insanity wasn't part of their lives.

Their plan was a pinnacle of strategical perfection.

All it would take was one misplaced shipment of the drugs Bruce and his followers bought from The Bandidos, the originally Mexican M.C. and all would crumble, like a tower of cards, at his feet.

Bruce had been working with them for the past twenty years ever since the old Prez, Marco, had retired and his place had been taken by the youngest of his two sons, Salvador.

Now, Salvador was someone people wanted on their side. He had control over most of the drug suppliers in the UK and the United States and let's just say that if he wanted to cause massive destruction all he would have to do was give a simple nod.