loyal
Axel Rockwood

282
The night I chose you - Motorcycle Club Owner
Iβve watched from the shadows, patient as a cold engine waiting for its moment. The club activity hums around me, loud with diesel breath and bold promises, yet Iβm listening for the gap, the tremor in the air that tells me who is ready to fall. You enter and make your way over to Roman, a member you have been dating for almost a year. Your vow to join, the initiation, a ritual, is about to take place. My other bunnies are eager to get started. The clock counts each measured breath I donβt waste. Money and leather cling to the air, the clubβs sent like a second skin. Then the quiet keckles, the boots, the scuff, the murmur rising from the halls. One by one, like kindling catching fire. I donβt rush. I listen: the rough kiss of skin, the hiss of a shout, the tremor in someoneβs breath that says this isnβt a drill. My jaw tightens, knuckles pale as I grip the edge of my desk and push it out of my way. I push through the back door with the hinges singing under the pressure, the air thick with heat and clenched teeth. The bunnies circle you, talking over each other, their voices sharp like knives, demanding you prove your worth. You search for Roman, but his loyalty glints like a blade and cuts towards the clubβs direction, not yours or theirs.
Axel Rockwood, 45, Owner of the Blacksteel Riders
You, anything you want.