Flame

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Flame Page 11

by Chelle Bliss


  “When we let someone into the shop, we’re not only letting them into our business, we’re giving them access to our family. No one gets hired without a full work-up, no matter how fucking great their work is,” Joe tells me, his face hard and unreadable.

  “I was never a prospect,” I reply, feeling like I need to explain my checkered past.

  “We know,” Izzy says, crossing her arms in front of her chest, leaning back like me. “You wouldn’t be in that chair if you had been.”

  “How do you know?” I’m pretty sure the things she’s saying and thinks she knows aren’t public knowledge or part of any record. At least not something someone could find out without digging into my background, finding the filth I wanted to stay hidden.

  “Babe,” she says, a shit-eating grin spreading across her face. “My husband may be an investigator now, but he was a DEA agent working the MC scene all across the South. If there’s something he needs to know about a person or any club in the country, he’s going to find it and not stop until he does.”

  “He asked around about me?”

  Izzy nods. “He went right to the source, had a sit-down with Tiny.”

  My shoulders slump, and I let out a long, exasperated sigh. “He went to Tiny?”

  Izzy nods. “Yep. Got all the dirt.”

  I raise an eyebrow because I’m sure he got some dirt, but he didn’t get the steaming pile of shit that was my time hanging with the Disciples. “Tiny isn’t much of a talker.”

  “Tiny and James go way back, and my brother Thomas and he go even further. They picked Tiny’s brain, got the dirt they could get, and were satisfied enough with what he had to say that I got the okay to offer you that seat.” Izzy pauses for a moment, shifting in her chair, leaning forward with her elbows resting just off the table. “And just so you know, the Feds watch those clubs every second of every day. You’re in the files. Your name is there, pictures of you at their compound, riding with them, causing the havoc only the Disciples cause. If Tiny hadn’t vouched for you, telling my husband you were just a kid who needed a home and help, you wouldn’t be sitting where you’re sitting.”

  “Still don’t like that shit one bit,” Joe says, glancing down at his daughter as she gawks at me like she didn’t know a damn thing about my past.

  She may not have known about the Disciples, but she knew why I was at Bike Week. It’s not like we met at the ice cream shop, sharing wanton glances as we licked our cones. We met at a biker rally. One of the biggest ones in the country for fuck’s sake.

  “I was never in the life, and I don’t plan on ever being there either. Those guys took me in when I had nowhere to go. They gave me a bed and a place to belong at a time when I had nothing and no one. They were a solid in my life when all I had was chaos.”

  “They don’t do that shit out of the goodness of their heart,” Izzy says, clearly knowing a lot about the life from her husband. “I spent enough time around those guys to know that life comes with strings.”

  “You know a lot of bikers?” I ask, trying not to laugh because the woman may be scary, but she didn’t seem the type to be hanging out at compounds, sucking the cocks of random bikers for kicks.

  “Someday, if you stick around, maybe I’ll tell you about the time I spent with the Sun Devils. But that day isn’t today, kid.”

  My eyebrows shoot up. “I know enough about the Sun Devils that I’m not sure I want to know about what shit went down between you and them.”

  “The fucking Sun Devils,” Joe groans. “I hate those fuckers. They caused enough shit with this family that if I ever see one of them again, I’ll…”

  “They’re all put away, Joe. Calm your shit. They can’t touch us now,” Izzy tells him like he doesn’t have a reason to worry, which isn’t entirely true.

  “They have a far reach, Iz. Even behind bars, those fuckers have eyes and ears on the ground. I’m waiting for the next time they come after this family. And besides, it’s not like they have life sentences.”

  I swallow down the lump that’s lodged in my throat, thinking about the Sun Devils and the carnage they’d spread across the South back in the day. “They came after the family?”

  Joe nods, eyes steely and cold. “Kidnapped Izzy and, hell, Angel too, but in the end, they landed in the place they deserved. Should’ve known better than to mess with two DEA agents’ family members, but they weren’t always the brightest fucking bunch. They let their thirst for vengeance cloud their judgment and sealed their fate in pulling the shit they did.”

  “Happens a lot with men like that,” Anthony adds as he lifts his beer glass to his lips.

  The table goes on chatting about the Sun Devils as I sit there, staring at them in shock and amazement. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that the MC went after the Gallos. They seem like the nicest people in the world, maybe wound a little tight and possibly a little too loving, but why the fuck would they come after them and kidnap two women who weren’t even part of the world? It makes no sense. But then again, shit inside the MC world rarely made a bit of sense unless you were part of the life with axes to grind and anger to burn.

  “I’m ready to go.” Gigi stares at me across the table. “You ready?”

  I nod, swallowing down the last sip of beer and pushing my seat back, standing. “Let’s hit it.”

  “You two be careful on the way home,” Joe says like he’s said it a million times before.

  A weird feeling crashes over me as Gigi waves goodbye. One of belonging. One of family. All about something I never had before but wished like hell I did. No one has ever given a shit if I got home okay or made it in one piece. The only person who cared was my grandmother, but she wasn’t even that concerned, figuring I was a man who would somehow get myself through anything.

  But Gigi grew up Gallo. She grew up surrounded by love, not knowing what it’s like to have no one at her back. She is luckier than she could ever know, and I am kind of jealous of the life she’s lived. The love she has. The acceptance that is freely given.

  I’d give anything to have just a small sliver of that goodness in my life. I may not have been given it by birth, but I’ll do whatever I have to do to get a little piece of it in my life now.

  13

  Gigi

  “I love the last piece you did tonight,” Pike says with his wrist on the steering wheel, looking like he’s driven my truck a thousand times. The flash of oncoming traffic lights up his features, sending shadows across his face.

  I stare at him in the relative darkness, taking in the slight bump on the bridge of his nose and the lushness of his lips. “I love when clients want me to design a piece. When they give me free rein to run with their thoughts and turn it into something original and meaningful.”

  “You nailed it. The coloring was spot-on too,” he praises, and warmth blooms inside my chest.

  “Thanks.” I turn my head just as he turns his to look at me because I don’t want him to know I’m staring at him. “I could use a little more practice at shading.”

  “Nah. It took me a couple years to get as good as you are now. In five years, you’ll be featured in all the big magazines. Mark my words, Gigi.”

  “That’s really nice of you to say, but you don’t have to suck up to me. I don’t plan on blowing up your world anytime soon, Pike.”

  He rolls the truck into the empty parking space in front of our apartment building and stops, turning to me as he cuts the engine. “I figured if you were going to, you would’ve done it already.”

  “Oh,” I whisper, glancing at him when he shifts, sliding a little closer to me. “What are you doing?”

  “Just wanted to talk alone for a few minutes.” Pike stares at me in the soft glow of the parking lot lights, and I practically have to will myself not to leap into his lap.

  Even after fifteen months, the pull to him is so heavy, the attraction so deep, I have to remind myself he’s not for me. We have very little in common except for where we live and what we do.
He comes from a different life. One without a loving family but with the Disciples in his past.

  “You can talk from over there.” I tick my chin toward his side of the cab, because if he gets any closer…

  He scoots closer, and I hold my breath. “What’s going to happen?”

  My fingers work the fringe on the bottom of my denim shorts, and I remind myself to breathe. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  The one thing I know about Pike is he won’t do anything I don’t want. If I tell him to back off and it’s not going to happen, he’ll leave me alone. But then I remember the way his mouth tastes, the sensation of his lips against mine, and how much I want to feel his body pressing mine into the mattress.

  “Sometimes, the best things never are.”

  “What if we get caught?”

  He cocks an eyebrow. “Your parents have surveillance set up?”

  I shrug, laughing nervously because the way he’s looking at me is nothing short of hot and needy. “I wouldn’t put it past my mother. My father is overprotective, but my mother is downright smothering.”

  His gaze drops to my lips as I speak, and heat sparks across my body. The needy ache I’ve felt for him since the moment I laid eyes on him again at Inked amplifies, and I’m pretty sure nothing but his touch will help chase the feeling away.

  “Darlin’,” he says, and my belly tumbles. I keep telling him how much I hate that word, but damn it, it’s a lie. It’s so much better than babe, and when Pike’s saying it, there’s nothing sweeter and it’s a total turn-on. “Get your ass over here and kiss me already.”

  I gawk at him. It’s like he’s reading my mind because my body language doesn’t exactly scream sex right now. I haven’t moved an inch, too scared of what will happen if I do. The last time Pike and I kissed, we barely came up for air for almost a week. With my current dry spell, I’m confident it’ll be much the same, but I don’t have the luxury of time.

  When I don’t move, Pike slides closer until our knees are touching. “I’m going to kiss you, Gigi.”

  Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Yes! Yes! Yes! I want to crawl into his lap, wrap my arms around his neck, and kiss the hell out of the man until I’m gasping for air.

  “Pike,” I whisper, my eyes locked on his mouth as his tongue pokes out, sweeping across his bottom lip. “I…”

  The words don’t make it out of my mouth before his hand is on my jaw, caressing my cheek with his thumb. “Tell me no, and I’ll stop.”

  “Pike,” I repeat like my brain is fried and his touch alone has rendered me completely and absolutely stupid.

  He leans forward, eyes locked on mine, hand on my face as the shadows pass over his face when he moves his mouth closer.

  “Yes,” I whisper so quietly, I can barely hear myself over the loud thumping of my heart against the insides of my chest.

  When his lips connect with mine, so velvety soft and warm, I can do nothing but open to him. The man is hard everywhere. Hard arms. Hard features. Hard eyes. Hard cock. But the one place he’s soft is his lips. His mouth is demanding, just like the rest of him, as his lips press against mine. He tightens his fingers behind my neck, pulling me toward him, and my body moves on its own. Without thinking, I crawl into his lap, straddling him in the front seat of my truck in the very public parking lot of our building.

  My arms go around his neck like they were always meant to be there as I settle into his lap, pressing my chest against his, loving the demanding way he’s kissing me.

  I could get lost in him.

  I did actually.

  Fifteen months ago, I’d been in this same position, tasting his lips, figuring I’d never see him again.

  Wrong.

  He slides a hand around my back, gripping my ass roughly as his tongue moves across my lips, and my skin starts to tingle everywhere like his mouth is the lighter fluid and his touch is the match. My body’s on fire, burning for the man below me.

  I grind my hips as I open my lips, giving him anything he wants. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched like this. So long since I’ve felt this kind of need for anyone. In all honesty, I haven’t wanted another man since the day I drove away from Daytona, telling myself Pike was nothing more than a fling.

  Pike’s fingers slide up the back of my neck before tangling in my hair, securing me to him even though I’m not going anywhere. I’m right where I want to be.

  “I missed this,” he murmurs against my lips, sending a jolt of white-hot electricity down my spine like a lightning bolt of need coursing through my system. “Missed how sweet you taste.”

  I moan and tighten the hold I have around his shoulders, latching my lips back on to his to stop him from talking. We talked all day. What we didn’t do was kiss. Now isn’t the time for chatter. Now’s the time to get what I’ve been thinking about since the moment I laid eyes on him again.

  A man clears his throat, and I freeze, my eyes flying open and going wide. We stare at each other, our mouths still touching, but not breathing.

  “Excuse me,” the man says, not giving two fucks that we’re currently getting hot and heavy in the parking lot. “I’m looking for a Mr. Pike Moore.”

  Pike’s lips move to the side, sliding off mine slowly, and I want to crawl through the open window and knee this guy in the balls for interrupting us. “I’m him.”

  The man reaches down, fishing something out of his pocket, and Pike’s body stiffens under me. His hand is wrapped around my arms, hauling me off his body and to the other side of the truck, shielding me from whatever the man is about to do.

  “I’m Special Agent Russo from the FBI. I was wondering if I could have a minute of your time.” The man flashes his identification before snapping the leather wallet shut.

  Pike growls. Flat-out growls like he’s about to attack. “It’s almost one in the morning, I’m sitting in the truck, having a nice time with my girl, and you pick now to bust my balls?”

  The agent’s eyes cut to me and then back to Pike. “Sorry for the bad timing, but I’ve been waiting around here all day for you, Mr. Moore.”

  “Bad timing,” Pike mumbles, his hands balling into tight fists against his legs. “Understatement of the fucking year.”

  “I only need a moment of your time,” the agent says, making no move like he’s going to leave and let us finish what we began.

  Pike’s gaze moves to me. “Go inside, darlin’. I’ll only need a minute.”

  “I’m not leaving.” No man is going to tell me what to do, and like fuck am I leaving Pike out here alone with an agent without finding out what the hell he wants.

  “It’s about your dad.”

  If I thought Pike was stiff before, he’s hard as granite now. His movements are slow, letting the man’s words wash over him, soaking into his soul. “Is he dead?”

  “He wasn’t the last time we had eyes on him.”

  Pike moves his hand to the steering wheel, making no attempt to get out of the truck as I sit next to him, not moving and barely breathing.

  What the hell could the agent want with Pike if it has to do with his father? Whether Pike likes the man or not, I can’t imagine a cop showing up, asking me questions about my own blood.

  “I don’t talk to my father, so I don’t know how I can help.” Pike’s eyes burn as they come to me. “I’m busy with my girl, so if you could come back tomorrow, maybe, and I mean maybe, I’ll talk to you.”

  “Sir,” the agent says and shakes his head. “I’m not leaving until we talk. If I have to haul your ass downtown to FBI headquarters to do it, so be it.”

  My hand clamps over my mouth as I gasp, and I try to cover my horror at the entire situation. “Is that really necessary?” I mumble against my palm with wide eyes.

  The agent nods. “Actually, let’s take a drive. I’d like to speak to you in private. It’ll be safer downtown.”

  “Like fuck,” Pike hisses, hand tightening around my steering wheel like he’s trying to choke the life out of it.<
br />
  “Don’t go.”

  I stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, but that’s always been my way.

  “Ma’am, do you want to take a ride in the back of my car too? You can wait in the holding cell where we keep the good criminals.” He winks.

  Pike’s out of the truck before the guy can straighten his face again. “Leave her the fuck alone. If your beef is with me, keep it with me. Ya hear me?”

  I lunge to the side, trying to grab on to his arm but miss, falling face first into the seat. “Let me call my uncle,” I mutter into the fabric as I push myself upward to a sitting position.

  Pike turns, his eyes flashing a warning that needs no words. I’m to call no one. “I’ll be fine. Get your ass inside and lock the door.” Pike ticks his head toward the apartment building like I’m just supposed to obey.

  Is he for real? If the situation weren’t so dire and the agent didn’t look like such a giant douche, I’d laugh right in Pike’s face. “Pike, I don’t think…”

  “He’ll be fine, ma’am.” The man dips his head, giving me a bullshit smile like I’m just going to take his word on that. He already said shitty things to me and hasn’t been the nicest to Pike even though he’s supposedly only wanted for questioning.

  “Are you arresting him?” I blurt out as I slide across the truck, crawling to my feet just behind Pike.

  The agent’s gaze sweeps over Pike as he pulls at the cuffs of his dress shirt that are barely peeking out from his suit jacket. “Not yet, but stranger things have happened.”

  Well, isn’t that reassuring?

  “Just go inside, Gigi,” Pike orders as I start to reach for my phone. “Call no one.”

  I let out a loud huff before jamming my phone back into my shorts pocket. “Fine.”

  “Let’s go, son.”

  “Don’t call me that. You’re not my daddy,” Pike says coldly.

  “The longer you wait, the later it’ll be when you get back.”

  Pike turns to me and grabs my hands, tangling his fingers with mine. “I’ll text you when I’m back, darlin’. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

 

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