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Daxxy boy

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Daxon Henley the 2nd born to the Henley clan. Everyone know that Darrion is the next in line to take over biker country, he's the level headed one. I mean for fucks sake, he's a doctor. Damon, the one who brought a goddess into our mix. Also, the front liner. Always the one sent out to handle what needs to be done with a painting of red for good measure. Baby boy Dane, the one kept tucked away since he's to young to patch in and do any real damage or work. So where does that leave me? I'm just the filled brother. I do the jobs they just need a body on really. I dont have a place. Well besides fucking the lambs, testing out the products for Van, and you know, the random drinking contest we find some fun in. Erin. Everyone seems to fit in, expect these two. Maybe they fit perfectly to gether. Or some sappy shit.

Romance / Action
5.0 1 review
Age Rating:

hello baby

HEY GUYS! this story line takes place after book 2, book 1 and 2, and all POV with Damon and Savannah, which can be found on Galatea, under "At The End Of The World"

This will only contain POVs with Daxon (i can not legally post any POV with Damon and Savannah since i have a contract and earn royalties with the sister app, Galatea. please be sure to download and read there so you can stay up to date with our biker prince and goddess herself.

because of the cut scenes where Savannah or Damon would be, the story line here will be a little choppy since the flow has been cut. i will add a little guidance for insight but i can NOT say anything that in the story line for Savvy and Her angel. please please please read it on galatea! and comment, like and follow lol i love hearing from you guys.

this is all because of how amazing you guys are that i can even do this, and am so pumped to release some POv with Daxon! our playboy finally gets to stand in the line light!

drumm roll pleaseeeeeeeeeeeee







(info here is, chapter 96 of book one, and chapters 140 to 146ish in book2, but most of all book2)



“Hello and good morning from the sexiest mother fucker south of the Canadian coastline. My name is Daxon and I hope you eat shit and die. Thank you and goodnight.”

Darrion drags a hand down his face, one arm bent at the elbow and the other shielding his eyes.

Lets just say he isn’t a fan of how i’ve used out new little discovery.

“What?” I scuff. Shrugging my shoulders, I don’t get it.

The knob on the dashboard is slid down so I can hone in on the next cell. Coming through the speakers one at a time I pride myself on this nifty little invention I came up with.

They all laughed when I drew my specs out. Said it couldn’t be done. Said it was impossible.

Well look where we are at now? And have been for a good ole minute thanks to my drunken dream journal. It took a lot of convincing and gadget altering before they would even sit down and hear me out. Finally when I tuned in to unc’s shaggen wagon they started to take me just a little bit more seriously.

About damn time am I right? I got loads of good ideas up here. Especially when I’ve got a drink or two in me. The hardest part was getting dad on board. You would think it would be oh i don’t know getting an eye in the jailhouse and getting it to work long term without the pigs of rock finding out.

“HEY YOU! Yes, I’m talking to you. I know you can hear me and guess what fuckface I can see and hear you. Every moment of the day. Every second you spend beating off. I’m here. Just watching as time ticks away. Tick. stock. Tick. tok.” and I change the station to the next cell.

“What was the point of that?” Darrion repositions the mic and takes over the video controls. It makes my day seeing them tweek out when they hear me over the speakers.

I could spend a whole ass day in here just fucking with the inmates since they cant do shit back. It’s like the game where you slap the bull and run.

Well this is kind of like that in the way the bull is the jail goers, slapping them is like how i talk mad shit into the mic and blast it out through the speakers, the running away one would from slapping said bull well is kinda like the cell switch i do whenever i stopped caring.

It’s actually not like the game at all.

Anyways, where was i? Oh yeah. Darrion, the fun ruiner.

“Why are you the ruiner of fun?” tuning into the cell i have really been after, some real fun starts.

“How’s it going in there? Warm? Comfy?”

I made a promise to Savannah that i would'nt let these fuckers go.

They have to pay for what they did.

Picking up on the vibrations in the air I turn it to 10 and hold it for 4 seconds intervals letting them rest and starting again. I already had some pretty good ideas on torturer practices. We here in the wolf pack know our way around what goes bump in the night.

“Do you have somewhere to be man? I’m good here. If you need to do something, go right ahead and don’t let it stop you.”

Darrion always acts like the next thing on his to do list is so much more pressing than whatever it is we’re doing. Just like how all this came to be. I guess he forgets faster than I do, I don’t really know. Thinking of what’s going on in a play by play upstairs in the head space of Darrion would ruin my entire goddamn week. He is wayyyy strict.

Savannah had him dead to rights with the whole stick up his ass thing. Always been his way.

“No but you do.”

This time he is the one to reset the board, calling the ear splinters to a quits.

This little soundboard makes a frequencies that can rupture eardrums if I hold it on for too long. I’ve found the sweet spot for most men to be right around 6 to 8 seconds so I’ve been having a blast tuning it to just about 5 seconds and giving them a rest before going in. this way it just hurts, very. Very. painfully. And thanks to my nifty little setup here I can do this whenever I want for however long I want. And since they are locked away, I have free access whenever I want to kill some time.

“They deserve this. She’s right. You know it. They deserve worse than this and if we would-..”

If we would have been better brothers. We would have known. It wouldn’t have come to this.

He called Savannah when the chips were down. He called someone besides us to come help. To protect him. From something he shouldn’t have been in.

We can’t tell him we know. Can’t offer much else to Tristan.

Got the club right back against Vannah.

If there was a list of all time greatest fuck ups we would be at the top of the list.

We can’t say shit to anyone. Not to dad who is back on the hating bandwagon. Not to the rest of our brotherhood who thinks van is just a spoiled selfish cunt.

Not to Dane who thinks he’s all alone now he can’t just run to Van.

“I got up early for this.” I set the controls back and have another go. Darrion gives up, turning away and heading for the door.

“Tomorrow you will too.” the sound of his boots on the floor holt's with precision.

“Excuse me? Your not the fucking boss of me.” yeah i figured that would get him.

He hates being told what to do.

“You’re right, I’m not. But He isn’t just my brother, and these pieces of shit should have had a lot more than just some ear pain coming. So tomorrow you can do your part just like I’m doing mine.” I hold the sound for a half second longer and look at the screen. Cataloging the way Ricky buckles off his cardboard cot and upchucks on to the floor.

“Wow, that escalated quickly. I hear the jailhouse slop is exceptionally good coming up more than it is going down. What do you think? Hmm? “

The sting of the paintballs haven’t been forgotten on my end, come tomorrow morning we will see if Darrion has.







*“Making my way downtown-walking fast, faces pass and I’m bound. Dananaan. And I miss you. Danana, and I kiss you and I would walk a thousand miles if I could just.. Seeeee. Youuuu- tonight!”* singing along to the radio outside of the high school I make sure i give Mrs. Watkins a whistle when her fine ass comes out the gym doors. It isn’t all bad being on babysitting duty for Percy. He isn’t that bad to be around. Kinda like van, who without i am bored as shit.

Everything is important and I can’t have much fun with all these hardasses.

I need a rematch. I will win eventually. She can’t have that good of luck over this shit.

I’ll sell my soil at a crossroads. I really don’t care. I want my victory the most I have ever wanted anything ever.

“Hey Emily, how are you doing this beautiful afternoon?” i'm off my bike and tailing the round end of the biggest tease on this fucking plant. It was my sophomore year of high school when a miss Emily Watkins became our teacher’s aid. Luckily for me, I was a problem child and needed an extra set of hands.

Oh baby does she have hands.

I was a minute past my eighteen birthday when I showed up to her apartment and said I was ready to make my birthday wish come true.

“Get out of here Mr. Henley before the campus police escort you off the premises.”

Oh if looks could kill, yikes.

“Now, now, Emily, it’s important you play nice with the other kids.” sliding between the front of her path and the front of her tasty body I pin us between the honda she was passing.

The official looking folder in her hands wacks at my chest. Her brown eyes looking up through those glasses already has me amped and ready to go.

“Mr. Henley. If y-”

“Don’t you think we are on more of a first name basis, Emily. Or do you restore back to proper ways after your delicious pussy has been snacked on? I didn’t finish school. I don't know what the proper english is for the title of the person who made you take a unprompted vacation just so we could fuck-” her hands cover my mouth.

The bell rings at every corner of the quad with doors erupting with high schoolers. The end of another day in paradise I’m sure.

Kissing her hands I shot her a wink before I let her go on her way. Ill be coming back for more after i get blondie squared up. Off to debate practice it is.




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