Axel’s Flame (Merciless Few MC Connecticut Chapter #7)

Prologue

Sophia

Growing up with just her mother there wasn't easy. Not with her mother, anyway. The woman was shallow, vapid, and so self-centered, Sophia often wondered why she’d even had her.

For much of the last eighteen years, she'd wondered who her father was and why he didn't want her. She could still remember the first time she'd asked her mother about him.

At five years old, Sophia was always asking questions about the world around her. It was early evening and she was seated at the kitchen table drawing a picture of a family. There was a mommy, a daddy, a little girl, and even a doggy.

“Mama? How come I don't have a daddy? Evie has one. So does Maddie. Even Cody has a daddy. How come I don't?”

“You do have one,” her mother responded before she set a plate with chicken nuggies and mac-n-cheese in front of her.

“Oh. Where is he?”

“He's away.”

“Away where, mama?”

“Overseas.”

“Oh. Can we call him?” she asked.

“No, we can't. “

“How come, mama?”

“Will you stop asking so many questions!” her mother yelled and she shrunk down in her chair.

“Sorry, mama,” she whispered.

“No, I shouldn't have yelled. We can't call him because his work is top secret.”

“Like a spy?” she asked, perking up.

“Yes, like a spy.”

Sophia shook her head to clear it of the past. Over the years, her mother had given different excuses, including that he was in the military and it was too dangerous to try and call him.

The last time she'd asked, she'd been twelve. Her mother had looked at her and sneered, before she said the words that had shattered her world.

“He's not here because he doesn't want you. Why would he want an ungrateful little brat like you?”

After that, she pretty much shut down. She stayed in her bedroom when she wasn't at school, just to avoid her mother.

Six years later, they were more like antagonistic roommates than they were mother and daughter.

Glancing at the clock, she sighed. It was after 8 PM and her mother still wasn't home. She'd been waiting for her to come home to eat, wanting to celebrate her mother's birthday, but finally she said fuck it.

She dished herself up some of the lasagna she'd made along with two slices of garlic bread, poured herself a glass of sweet tea, and carried it to the table. Then she went back to get her salad, and dug in. If her mother came home now, well she could just fix her own damn plate.

The sound of the front door closing, followed by stumbling footsteps, pulled Sophia from her light doze on the sofa. She sat up quickly, tossed the throw blanket onto the end of the sofa, and stood.

“Mom? Are you drunk?”

“I'm a grown woman. I can drink if I want to,” her mother slurred.

“Please tell me you didn't drive like that!”

“Don't be stupid,” her mother replied.

“Fine. At least you didn't risk killing anyone, but you could have called. I fixed lasagna for dinner. I thought we could celebrate your birthday.”

“Why would I want to celebrate that with you?” she sneered. “Fucking Dax McNeill. He had to go and ruin my life by saddling me with such an ungrateful little brat. I should have dumped you on his doorstep and been done with you,” she mumbled as she stumbled past her daughter.

Sophia stared at her mother's retreating back. This was the first time she'd ever heard her father's name. Determined to finally get some answers, she stalked down the hallway after her mother.

“Mom! You've run from this long enough. I deserve some answers! Who is Dax McNeill?”

“Who do you think he is? I never should have poked holes in his condoms. Then I wouldn't have to deal with you,” she hissed. “I didn't even know until after the divorce.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“What did I ever do to you to make you hate me so much?”

She waited for an answer that didn't come because her mother had passed out.

Sophia went to her bedroom and curled up in bed as thoughts churned in her mind.

“I'm going to Connecticut, to find my father,” Sophia said a few days later while eating dinner.

“No you are not,” her mother replied.

“I'm eighteen. You can't stop me.”

“I'm warning you, Sophia. If you leave, I'm cutting you off. When he closes the door in your face, don't come crawling back to me because you won't be welcome.”

Sophia looked at the woman who'd given birth to her. Her mother had become a lawyer, she made good money, and she'd given Sophia her own credit card when she was younger.

She shrugged. “I figured as much. I've already gotten a cash advance for the full amount that was available, and I closed my checking account, so I'll be fine for a while.” She'd been working part time while finishing school, which was how she'd paid for her own car, even if it was a bit rough, and now she was glad she had.

With that said, she carried her plate to the sink, rinsed it off, set it in the dishwasher, and headed to her room. Since she was leaving in the morning, it would be her last night in that bed.

After days of traveling, she'd finally arrived. Since she knew her mother was from Cornwall, Connecticut, that was most likely where her parents had met, and hopefully, where Dax McNeill still lived. If not, well, she'd have to hope someone knew where he'd gone.

After checking in at the Rosewood Bed and Breakfast, she headed to the restaurant that had been recommended; The Painted Hound.

After ordering her meal, she stopped her server before the woman could walk away.

“Hey, I have a question for you. You wouldn't happen to know where I could find Dax McNeill, would you?” She was hoping that, with Cornwall being such a small town, everyone would know everyone.

“No, I sure don't. Sorry.”

“Damn. Thanks anyway.”

She was just taking a drink of her soda when she heard a gruff voice behind her.

“I heard you're looking for Sinner.”

Sophia turned and had to look up at the guy who stood there. “Sinner?”

“Dax McNeill. We call him Sinner. He's our Prez. How do you know him?”

“I don't. Not yet. My mom knows him. It's a story I'd rather tell him. Do you know where I can find him?” She wasn't quite sure what he meant by Prez, but she had more pressing matters to focus on. Like finding her father.

“This time of evening, the clubhouse.”

“Clubhouse?”

“Yeah. The Merciless Few clubhouse. We're a motorcycle club,” the guy told her.

“That explains the bikes I saw out front. Some of you are here eating. Um, can I get directions? I really need to talk to him.”

“Tell you what, girlie. Eat up and we'll escort you,” he told her. “I'm Axel.”

“Oh, um, thanks. I'm Sophia.”

She watched him walk away and admired the view. That didn't mean she was going to just blindly trust him.

“What do you know about those bikers? Are they… trustworthy?” she asked when her server returned with her food.

“Oh yeah. They're rough around the edges but they don't hurt women or kids.”

“Thanks.”

Knowing she could trust them made it easier for her to enjoy her food. She kept an eye on the bikers—or more specifically Axel—while she ate, and once she'd finished and paid, she slowly approached their table.

Before she could speak, Axel beat her to it.

“Ready to go, girlie?” Axel asked.

“Yes. Thanks again for the escort. And just so you know, I'm not just blindly trusting you. I asked the server to make sure it was safe.”

“Smart girl,” one of the others said.

“Thanks.”

She was antsy as she followed the bikers away from the restaurant out of town. When they turned onto a driveway, she took a steadying breath and followed them. She'd come this far, she wasn't turning back now.

After turning off her beat up Chevy and getting out, she followed Axel and the others inside.

“Wait here, I'll go get him,” Axel said, and so she waited, feeling weighed down by the fear of the unknown. If he turned her away, she wasn't sure what she was going to do. Without him, she was utterly alone in the world.

She was just starting to fidget when a man with sandy blonde hair approached, a buxom blonde bombshell right beside him.

“Who are you?” the man asked, and her nerves ratcheted up.

“Um, my name is Sophia Redding. Sylvia Redding's—”

“Daughter,” the man who was obviously Dax McNeill, cut her off. “Why are you here?” he asked.

Sophia sighed. “Is there somewhere we can talk? It's a bit of a story.”

“We can talk in my office. Follow us.”

It wasn't a suggestion. It was an order, and Sophia swallowed before she followed him and the blonde through the building and then down a hallway to what was apparently his office door.

“Have a seat.”

He motioned to a sofa before he pulled a chair over, sat down, and tugged the woman down onto his lap.

“Now, tell me what I need to know.”

Sophia sat and folded her hands in her lap.

“All my life, it's been just me and my mother. Over the years, I've asked her about my father. At first she would make things up about him. It was always a different story. My favorite was that he was in the military.

“As I got older, she became evasive. Then she started getting angry when I'd ask her things about him.

“Finally, one day she told me he wasn't in my life because he didn't want me. He never wanted me. I was twelve and it broke my heart.

“It wasn't until about a week ago that I discovered my mother had lied to me. It wasn't that my father didn't want me. He didn't even know about me.

“Mom got drunk one night and started ranting about Dax McNeill and how he'd ruined her life, strapping her with an ungrateful brat.”

Her father stared at her and she fought the urge to squirm.

“Are you saying…you're my daughter? That's impossible. I used condoms every time we fucked.”

“She admitted to poking holes in them with a needle so you wouldn't know. She found out after you were divorced that she was pregnant with me.”

“Shit. She had you and she didn't tell me? She should have told me. I would have been there for you.”

“She didn't want you to know about me. To be honest, I still wouldn't know about you if she hadn't gotten drunk. We don't talk anymore. She told me if I came looking for you, she was cutting me off. I came anyway.”

“What? What kind of mother does that?” the woman asked.

Sophia wondered who she was, but didn't think it was the appropriate time to ask.

“A narcissistic bitch who really only cares about herself,” her father growled. It was a good growl. She could almost see him shifting into a predator, maybe a wolf or some kind of big cat, like in the paranormal romances she read.

“You hit the nail on the head,” Sophia said. “She's a narcissist. I'm not expecting anything from you, I just wanted to meet you,” she added.

“Fuck that. You're my kid. I wasn't in your life for,” he figured it up, “eighteen years. I want to be there now. How long you in town for?”

“Well, I booked a room at the Rosewood Bed and Breakfast for three days. After that, I don't know,” Sophia replied.

“Check out of the B and B, Martha will refund you. I've got a guest room you can stay in,” he told her.

“I don't want to impose,” she countered.

“You're not. No kid of mine is staying at a hotel when I have a perfectly good guest room.”

“Um, okay. I'll go get my stuff then, and come back.”

When they both stood, he pulled her into his arms and hugged her. “I'm sorry I wasn't there for you growing up, but I'll be there for you now,” he told her.

A soft sound escaped her. It sounded a bit like a sob.

“Hey. It's okay,” her father said, rubbing her back.

Sophia sniffled. “Sorry. I just didn't expect you to be so welcoming.”

“Yeah, well, family's important, kiddo. Go on, get your shit and come back and I'll take you to the house.”

“Okay.”

She stepped away and he let her go, and a part of her feared she was dreaming and any minute, she would wake up, to find herself still in her bed at her mother's home.