Free Earning the Cut (Riding the Line Series, Prequel) by Jayna Vixen Page B

come across such a freaky-looking animal. Lenny said he was some special, expensive breed but that he was worth more to him than money. Even though Curly drove Dax nuts, he developed a fondness for the miscreant. Curly didn’t seem to mind Dax either, and had taken to meowing a loud greeting upon his arrival each night.
    Crow seemed to take him under his metaphorical wing. At first, Dax wasn’t sure if he should trust the man, but Crow seemed pretty down to earth, and blunt too. He was a guy you took at face value. Hawk didn’t take shit from anyone either. Dax soon discovered that the vice president was known as kind of a loose cannon. While Crow wore the President patch, it was easy to see that Hawk handled the details and kept the guys in line.
    It was Friday night. The crew was in a celebrating mood, but Dax wasn’t sure why. Probably something to do with Loony and his guns. From his short time with the crew, he had garnered that they were into some no-so-legal activities. The fact didn’t bother him. Fuck the rules. Of all the guys, however, Loony was the only one who made Dax’s internal alarm bells ring. There was something about the guy he just didn’t trust, and he had picked up on it the very first night he had seen the man. Crow seemed to like the guy though, making Dax feel guilty for his unfavorable thoughts. The inner circle poured in from whatever deal they had obviously just brokered, filling the air with a tangible excitement.
    “Well, boys, we’re in the big leagues now!”
    Dax noted that a few of the older guys looked uncomfortable at Crow’s proclamation, but everyone raised their glasses of bootleg brandy nonetheless. Then, Crow, Hawk, and Loony disappeared into a private room next to the bar. The night wore on, loud and fast. At one point, two chicks got into it, and Lenny intervened. Dax and couple of the other guys watched with interest as the bartender separated the two hair-pulling, screeching broads.
    “Fighting over cock. Never thought I’d see the day,” Crow said, materializing behind Dax with a beer in his hand.
    Dax quirked his brow. “Seriously?”
    Crow chuckled. “Fucking Phantom stalkers will do anything to get under an original.” He took a long swig of his beer.
    Some of them didn’t mind getting under a grunt, either, as Dax soon found out. Or on top of him. After a few months, he had quite a reputation with the ladies. The ease with which the panties came off around Dax became a running joke around the bar, and although he was a grunt, his sexual prowess earned him the grudging respect of most of the crew.
    ***
    Six Months Later
    Dax had never felt so…useful. It was amazing how a bunch of rough-looking bikers could be so supportive. He was learning a lot, but it wasn’t like being in school. Gray showed him how to use a wrench and soon he was helping with repairs rather than just washing the bikes. Working with his hands made Dax feel productive in a way he had never felt before. He aligned the tailpipe perfectly, looking up as a large black van roared into the dirt lot in front of the warehouse. A bunch of the crew piled out, and began removing heavy crates from the back. Hawk strolled over to him, and watched as Dax tightened the last bolt on his new, custom exhaust.
    “Nice job, kid. Thanks.” Hawk pulled on a pair of black leather gloves and held a second pair out to Dax as he stood up and stuck the wrench in his back pocket. “Ever shot a rifle?”
    Dax felt his eyes widen and the grin spread over his face. He had seen plenty of weapons but he had never handled one. Like most young guys filled with testosterone, he jumped at the chance to shoot a real, live gun. It turned out he was pretty good at shooting stuff. Dax had natural aim and excellent hand-eye coordination. He spent the afternoon testing all kinds of different pieces with a few of the other grunts. He was accurate and steady, not wavering from his shot even when the others purposely tried to