Tess Property of Blaze: Book #5 in the Blood Brothers MC Series

by Collard, J. A.

  “Sure, man, come in.” I open the door for him, and he enters then shuts it behind him. “Just give me a sec,” I say as I walk to the bathroom and wash my face, trying to wake myself up for whatever news he’s here to tell me. I quickly swish some toothpaste around in my mouth, so I don’t gross Tracker out with my skunk breath, then grab a towel from the rail and wipe my face. After one last glance in the mirror—I still look like shit but at least feel a bit more awake now—I walk back into my room, ready for whatever Tracker has for me.

  Tracker is standing against a wall, his intense gaze boring into mine. “Sit down, brother,” I offer, pointing to the bed, but he shakes his head and stays where he is.

  “I prefer to stand.”

  “That bad?” I ask, raising my eyebrows at him.

  “Yeah, that bad, brother.”

  “Fuck!” I grunt, then sink down on the bed, facing him. “Okay, hit me with it.”

  Just as Tracker’s opening his mouth to talk, another knock sounds on the other side of the door. I send Tracker an apologetic look and stand and open the door. “Hey, Hawke, what’s up?”

  “Prez is calling church,” is all Hawke says.

  I raise my eyebrows. “Now?”

  Hawke looks into the room. Noticing Tracker standing there, he nods over to him, and Tracker nods back. “Yeah, now. You too, Tracker.”

  “Tell Prez we’ll be there in a sec,” I say, looking back over to Tracker, not liking the look on his face.

  “When Prez says now, we know he means it. Now get your asses out there,” Hawke says, pointing his thumb behind him to the doorway.

  I inhale, resisting the urge to ignore Hawke’s order.

  “Fine, we’re coming,” Tracker says, like he’s reading my mind. Disobeying Prez and a call to attend church was an idiot move, one I wasn’t about to do despite wanting to know what had Tracker all serious.

  Hawke turns and leaves the room, and Tracker follows, but before he exits, he turns toward me and presses the file he’s been holding into my chest. “I’m sorry, bro.” My eyebrows pinch together as I look down at the file and Tracker’s hand. “Wish you didn’t have to find out like this,” he adds, then removes his hand and walks away, leaving the file in my hand.

  Everything in me wants to open it and have a quick glance at its contents, but Prez has called church and I need to go. I quickly walk to my bed and place the file on top, knowing I’ll be back to take a look at it right after church finishes.

  After one last glance at the plain-looking folder sitting on top of my black comforter, I turn and exit my room, slamming the door shut behind me before heading to church.

  Blaze

  I make my way to the room where church is held with coffee in my hand, and shut the door behind me, taking a seat at my normal spot. I’m impatient for it to be over so I can go take a look at what the fuck is in that file. I spot Tracker, and he looks away; whatever it is must be bad if Tracker can’t even look me in the eye.

  The gavel slams a couple of times and my attention falls to Prez.

  “Brothers, we found them,” he says with a smile on his face. “Hawke and Gunner went out and questioned some drug dealers last night, and they got lucky with one on the corner of Maxwell and Steele, who said a man with a Forseekers patch bought some cocaine off him. He said he’d want more, and if he could deliver it to some warehouse downtown.”

  “You get the address?” I ask.

  “We did,” Hawke answers with a smile on his face. “Gunner and I took a ride to where the warehouse is and staked out the place. Music was blaring from it, and we saw four members out front holding the fort.”

  “So what’s the plan?” I ask, looking around the room. “We go in, just like that?”

  Prez shakes his head. “No, we need to be smart—we need an inside man.”

  “You thinkin’ the drug dealer?” I ask

  “Nah, man, we can’t go telling him our business, one mess-up and all will break loose.”

  I nod my head; he’s got a point. “Who, then?”

  Prez looks over at Rhyder. “Rhyder, you up for the job?”

  “Me?” he asks, clearly shocked and pointing his finger at his chest.

  “Yeah, you. We’ll have your back. We will be waiting outside.”

  Not liking that Rhyder is going in, I speak up. “I’m your sergeant-at-arms, let me go in.” The look of relief on Rhyder’s face tells me I made the right decision. Rhyder’s like my little brother. I mean, he’s tough and shit, and I know he could hold his own, but still, I’m the protector of the club, and I should be the one going in. I look over at Prez, who’s rubbing his jaw. “What? Somethin’ wrong with me goin’ in Rhyder’s place?”

  Prez shakes his head. “Not sayin’ that, bro, just wondering if you’re in the right headspace to be dealing with this.”

  “C’mon, Prez, you know I don’t let personal business get in the way of club business. Let me go in.”

  “I’ll go,” Tracker interrupts, and I turn to face him, pissed that everyone’s trying to take my spot. “I know what to look out for, I should go.”

  I inhale deeply and narrow my eyes at him. “Fuck that, I’m going,” I growl.

  “You’ve got some shit to do, remember?” he states, and I smirk.

  “What’s wrong, you’re not seeing your little princess?”

  Tracker crosses his arms and glares at me. That’s right, brother, I know about your precious girl, the one you’re trying to keep away from this club.

  “What you know about Sophia?”

  “Sophia, is it?” I smile smugly. “How old is she anyway, nineteen?” I joke, but Tracker steps in before I can continue.

  “Shut the fuck up, brother, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  We all know Tracker has a girl—she’s from Vixen Falls, he met her when he was out looking for his brother Tate, back when Tracker was an FBI agent. He told Hawke one night that he met her before he joined the Blood Brothers and wasn’t sure how she’d react if she came out to the clubhouse to meet all of us. He must be serious about her, because he’s never been with another woman since I’ve known him, and that’s saying a lot. He’s had lots of opportunity, I won’t lie, and it kills me to admit it, but he’s a good-looking guy—mocha skin, green eyes, and a body that shows he works out every day… fuck! Now I sound like I want cock….

  All jokes aside, Tracker is a good man, and he’s there for us no matter what. He’s proved that time and time again. And I know whatever he’s found on Tess would have been hard for him to share with me. But whatever it is, he obviously thinks that me going into the warehouse to search for signs of the missing girl isn’t a good idea, and for once I’m gonna listen. I need to read the file anyway.

  I smirk again, remembering the conversation was currently focused on Sophia. Whistles sound around the room, and everyone begins to chant “Sophia, Sophia.”

  Tracker shakes his head and looks over at Prez. “C’mon, Prez, stop this shit now.”

  Prez laughs, then says firmly, “You heard him boys, that’s enough,” and slams the gavel down on the solid wood of the table. “We’ve got a serious situation on our hands, so if everyone agrees, Tracker’s going into the warehouse. Tracker, you sure about this?”

  Prez looks over at Tracker, who looks at me first, and then back at Prez. “Yeah, I’m sure.” He then turns to face me again—why do I feel like he’s trying to protect me from something?

  “Okay, boys, tonight at 2100 sharp, the Forseekers are expecting a delivery of coke. Tracker will go in with the coke, and will try and look around the place, see if there’s any sign of girls.”

  “What if they ask where the real drug dealer is?” Hawke asks.

  Prez looks from Hawke to Tracker. “Just say you had to step in, that the regular guy had to cover another district or something like that.”

  Hawke nods, then asks, “What if shit goes down, how will Tracker get word to us?”

  “I’ve got a mic tha
t I was able to get from an old friend from the force. It’s small and looks like a button, and I’ll attach it to my shirt so you guys can listen in. You guys will hide out not far from the warehouse, and if I need help, I’ll use the safeword.”

  “And what’s that?” I ask, still not liking that Tracker’s going in alone.

  “Bros before hoes,” he says while chuckling, and we all burst out laughing.

  “I like it,” I reply, still laughing along with my brothers.

  Prez gives us a minute to quieten down and then looks around the table at each of us. “In all seriousness, boys, we need to remember who we’re dealing with here. The Forseekers have a bad reputation, and we all know that Viper has a record and a short fuse, so we need to be careful. I don’t like that this is all happening so quick, I’d like more time to plan, but this may be the only opportunity for us to get in there. And if they are the ones who are stealing women from the streets then we need to act now. Tracker, don’t take any risks, if things turn sour, just get yourself out of there. Our only aim is to see if anything’s out of sorts, and that’s it for now, you got it?”

  Tracker nods. “Got it.”

  “Hawke mentioned that the club is covered by fields and trees, so we’ll take cover behind the bushes and have visual on the warehouse using our equipment.”

  “One question,” I pipe up.

  “What’s that?”

  “Where we gettin’ the coke?”

  Prez smiles. “I got it.”

  “What do you mean you got it?”

  “Let’s just say, Hawke got the dealer to agree to give us the coke.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “I won’t even ask.”

  “Better that you don’t,” Prez agrees. “Okay, lets meet out front at 2100. Rhyder and Gunner, you ride in the SUV so we have the audio.” Rhyder nods. “Any other business?” Everyone around the table is silent. “Okay, then. Church is out.”

  He slams the gavel down, and I get up from my seat with one intention in mind: to get to that file.

  Tess

  It’s 10:00 a.m. and he still hasn’t called. So much for only one night of leaving me alone. I thought he was desperate to see me—if he was, then why isn’t he banging down Jeff’s door?

  Jeff went into Ink Me today. I couldn’t do it, but luckily I only had a couple of clients that Jeff could take over for me, because I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on anything other than what’s happening in my life right now. I still don’t know what I’m going to say to Blaze, or how I’m going to explain my past to him, but right now my head is a mess. If I tell Blaze I’m married to the VP of the Forseekers, and that I’ve been lying to him this whole time, then I’ll lose him. If I leave quietly and go back with Viper, then he will never know the truth. I’ll still lose him, but maybe it would be the better option—I won’t have to see the hurt or disappointment in his eyes when I tell him everything. This way, I can leave and never look back.

  I know it’s harder said than done, but I’d be protecting him, and the memory of us. With a tear rolling down my face, I finish my coffee and walk over to the sink to wash my mug. A ringtone sounds throughout the apartment, and at first I ignore it because it’s not my specific ringtone. Maybe Jeff left his phone here. But then I recall Viper giving me a phone, one that he said I must answer or else he’ll hurt Blaze.

  I sprint for the spare bedroom that Jeff made up for me last night and follow the sound of the phone. Finally I find it in the back pocket of my jeans, and with my hands trembling, I hit Accept and answer it.

  “Hello?”

  The familiar sound of Viper’s voice travels through the phone. A voice that still makes me squirm.

  “Hello, wifey, I was beginning to think you weren’t going to pick up.”

  “Ah… sorry… I was just….”

  “You were what? Fucking that biker?”

  I sink to the bed on shaky legs and feel the rapid thump of my heart as I press my hand to my chest. “What do you want?” I manage to say, the sound of his voice sending a chill through my entire body.

  “What do I want?” he repeats, his sarcastic laugh coming through like nails on a chalkboard. “Oh, Teresa, I haven’t even begun to explain what I want. But don’t you worry, you will find out, because I will show you exactly what I want—and soon.”

  I grab a pillow from the head of the bed and place it on my lap and squeeze it tight, knowing exactly what he wants to show me.

  “Listen, Teresa, listen very carefully. I’m going to text you an address, and I want you to meet me there tonight. Do you understand, Teresa? Tonight!”

  My breath hitches at the back of my throat, and my palms are all sweaty, as thoughts of being alone with Viper enter my mind.

  “What about my dad? Where is he?”

  Viper’s laugh again makes me shudder. “Oh, that’s right, you’re a selfish daughter, too. You don’t that know your old man has had to step down from being president because of his heart, do you? That’s right, Teresa, guess who’s president now?”

  Dad has heart issues? Part of me feels sorry for him, and a little guilty for leaving him. But then I remember exactly what sort of father he was, and the guilt washes away. I bite down on my bottom lip, trying to hold back what I really want to say. “You?” I manage to squeak out around the lump in my throat.

  “That’s right…. You’re now married to a president,” he spits out, pride lacing his voice.

  “Does my dad know where I am?” I ask as I get up from the bed, the pillow hitting the floor, and begin to pace, trying to think of a plan as to how I can get out of this situation. It’s too soon, I can’t see him tonight.

  “I haven’t told him yet, I wanted to surprise him, and that I will. Our business here in New York is finished, so we’re heading home in a couple of days, and you, wifey, will be coming with me. So you better get your ass to the address I’m going to text you, or I will come looking for you, and I know exactly where to start.”

  Tears spring to my eyes as I think about the Blood Brothers clubhouse, how it’s been a home to me for the last two years, and now, I’m going to have to leave it—and Blaze—so that I can protect them all.

  “Teresa, are you listening?” he shouts.

  I stop pacing and reply, “I need some more time,” thinking about Ink Me and leaving all that behind. Not to mention having to go get some of my things from the clubhouse.

  “Tonight, Teresa, you hear me?”

  Not wanting to anger him, I agree. “I’m listening, I’ll be there,” I say on a whisper.

  “Good girl, see you tonight, baby.”

  I don’t reply, just disconnect the phone and stare at the screen, lost in my thoughts. A buzz comes from the phone and it vibrates in my hand—it’s a text from Viper: Meet me at 2 Shirby Drive, it’s an old warehouse down a dirt road. 7pm sharp. DON’T BE FUCKIN LATE.

  I swallow hard and throw the phone on the bed, thinking about Ink Me and how I’ll never work there anymore, or see Jeff, who’s become a really good friend. I think of the clubhouse and Luisa, Jasmine, and their kids. Charity, and all the boys I’ll miss. I need more time… time to arrange things, but I don’t have it.

  I do need to get some of my things from the clubhouse, which means I’ll most likely run into Blaze. I’m going to have to play it cool, act like I’m breaking up with him or something. Anything to make sure he’s safe.

  With that plan in mind, I grab my clothes and head to the shower.

  Blaze

  I walk out of church and head straight for my room. Tracker stops me just outside the doorway and places his arm on my shoulder. “Brother, I’m here if you need me.”

  My eyebrows shoot together and I look into his eyes. I can see worry and determination staring back at me, and I feel a chill run down my spine. I don’t reply; I can’t. I just look back at him and nod my head before I take off toward my room.

  Entering, I shut the door behind me and lock it. I don’t want any more interruptions.
I need to get this over and done with. I see the folder still on my bed and slowly walk over to it. Rubbing my jaw with one hand, I lift the folder with my other. I can’t go back from this—whatever is in here, I can’t take back once it’s out there. What I want is to throw it in the trashcan and forget I ever asked Tracker for intel, but I know deep inside that it needed to be done, and that I need to read what’s in this file. With a steady breath, I turn and sink down onto the bed and open it.

  A picture of Tess is on the top of the page, with details regarding her listed beneath:

  Teresa Bronx: Born November 4th, 1994

  Address: 2 Lockford Avenue, Los Angeles (CA) 90015

  Father: John Bronx, born August 9th, 1966

  Mother: Marisa Delguera, born, November 24th, 1976 - deceased November 4th, 1994.

  I stare at the date Tess’s mother is listed as deceased and realize with a heavy heart that it’s the same date as Tess’s birthday. But what has me stumbling is Tess’s birth name—Teresa. She’s never mentioned before it’s her name.

  I run my hand through my hair and continue reading down the page, and that’s when my stomach falls down to my feet and blood rushes to my head.

  Husband to Teresa Bronx: Vincent DeLuca – AKA, Viper — Forseekers Motorcycle Club. Convicted of attempted murder, February 12th, 2018. Released, November 9th, 2018.

  My eyes are glued to one word—husband. Husband? What the fuck! My eyes run over that sentence once again. Husband to Teresa….

  I slam the folder shut, not able to stomach another word. My hand is shaking as I look down at the folder, and then I throw it across the room. Papers from the file land on the floor, and the picture of Tess sits on top, staring back at me. Taunting me. My breath comes out in fast bursts as I struggle to control myself. Anger like nothing I’ve ever felt before runs through my entire body, and I rub my eyes with the palms of my hands as they blur in anger. I jump off the bed and link my hands behind my head as I pace the room. I feel like a caged animal, ready to pounce as the air in my lungs burns my throat. I drop my hands and search the room. Tess’s perfume sits on the dresser, along with her makeup. Her T-shirt and bra lie across the chair in the corner of the room with her boots sitting under it. Everywhere I look, she’s there. Yet, she’s not mine—she’s been married this whole fucking time.