Blaze: Devil's Nightmare MC: Book 11

by Lena Bourne

  But it’s back now, worse than it ever was because I tried to ignore it and now it’s mad.

  “You know what they did to me! To my family! You know they killed little Josh! You know it was Crow and Hijack that most likely did it. Why bring them with you to see me?”

  Colt grabs my arm, whispering, “Easy now,” in my ear. But I’m beyond reason. I never wanted to think about any of this ever again.

  Slate is staring at me with his mouth open and his eyes wide. But the pleading look in them has been replaced with shock. I take a few deep breaths to steady myself, to get a grip on my sanity before it floats away forever. But it might already be too late.

  “Talk and I might put in a good word. Maybe you can be the one sent home to tell them what happened to the others. But talk fast,” I say in a voice so cold and dead I’m not even entirely sure it’s my own.

  Slate opens and closes his mouth a few times, looking from me to Colt. Finally, he swallows hard and fixes his eyes on me.

  “Me and Buddy, we didn’t want to be a part of it, we really didn’t,” he stammers. “We were so glad when you didn’t show up at the bar. And then Colt left too so we thought it was all off—”

  “Talk fast, I said,” I interrupt. He swallows hard again.

  “The Snakeskins, they found out you joined Devil’s Nightmare MC and they made us get in touch with you,” he says. “They’d kill us if we hadn’t. I have a wife and a little girl now…she’s two, I have to stay alive for her—”

  “Why the fuck did you join the Snakeskins, man?” Colt asks.

  “Because my wife’s…I married Nia,” he stammers.

  “As in Crow’s and Hijack’s sister? That Nia?” Colt snaps. “Why the fuck would you go marrying into that snake pit of a family.”

  “That’s neither here nor there right now,” I say. “Why the bombs? Why attack the Devils? Why not just take me out?”

  Slate eyes turn scared again, but it’s an old kind of fear and has little to do with his current situation.

  “It’s not us that want to attack you, we’re just acting as the middlemen, as the way in,” he says. “Taking you out as well was the cherry on top for the Snakeskins, though I’m sure the old bastard had some other gain from it too.”

  “Old bastard is the Snakeskin’s president, right?”

  Slate nods. “The guy hates me. He hates that I married his daughter and am family now. He’d like nothing more than to see me dead. So I had no choice, I really didn’t Blaze, you gotta believe me.”

  This sorry little weasel thinks I care. He couldn’t be more wrong.

  “Who are they working for?” I ask.

  He swallows had again. “Roadside Sinners MC. They’re hell-bent on revenge for something you did to them.”

  What we did was kill their president and his two sons. And a bunch more. But we let most of them live. Clearly, that was a bad, bad mistake.

  “You’re sure about this? How sure?” Colt asks, glaring at him.

  “A hundred percent,” he says. “This old guy with a ponytail came to the clubhouse a couple of months ago. He knew all about you, Blaze, and the Snakeskins’ problem with your family. And he wanted us to get him close enough to you so he could get his revenge on the Devils. That’s exactly how he put it. I was there. He just came in and announced it to the whole clubhouse.”

  I look at Colt. “Get Hawk, he needs to hear this.”

  He nods and leaves.

  I have trouble looking at Slate. His news isn’t as bad as I feared it would be, but it’s far from good.

  “So you telling Colt the Snakeskins and my family were no longer feuding, that was just a lie?” I ask.

  He nods. “Yes.”

  “How many dead since I left?” I ask, not even sure I want to know.

  “Your uncle Reggie. Shot in the back by the side of the road,” he says. “The Snakeskins are denying it, but it was them, I know it.”

  Reggie’s jolly, red-cheeked face floats before my eyes. He still knew how to joke and laugh. One of the few in my family who did. Somehow, the hatred, death, and fear that were our every day didn’t kill his spirit.

  Colt and Hawk enter the room, cutting this conversation I wish never happened short.

  “I need some air,” I tell Colt as I squeeze past him out of the cell. Hawk calls after me, but it’s just noise to me.

  It was Uncle Reggie who suggested I should leave before the hatred swallowed me up. Reggie who gave me the strength and the money to do it.

  And now he’s dead. I can’t even wrap my mind around that idea, let alone accept it.

  10

  Misti

  I have two new pairs of skinny jeans, one black with rips in the knees, which is all the rage these days, Stormi says, the other light grey, along with two new t-shirts that hide what needs hiding while still showing off my figure. I also have several pairs of lacy underwear and two matching bras. Just thinking about wearing those makes my cheeks heat up. I’ll have to lose this shyness if I’m ever to get anywhere with a man.

  My nails are dark blue with shiny white crystals worked in. The overall effect uncannily resembles the gorgeous night sky that blossomed over me and Blaze last night. I now even have my very own leather jacket which Stormi insisted on buying for me even though it cost way too much. She finally convinced me to stop refusing when she said it was an early birthday present.

  Yet, I’m home alone, sitting in the old armchair by the window, watching Mrs. Lamber, the neighbor across the street prune her lovely roses. They bloom a faint purple and she’s managed to train them into a lovely bush almost as tall as she is.

  The sky is turning yellow. Soon it will set completely. I was sure Blaze would be here by now.

  Stormi was picked up by Ace two hours ago, and even though she offered, I told her not to ask him where Blaze is. He’s not here. Not picking me up for dinner and dancing like he promised. And that’s all I really need to know.

  I could be reading. I could be watching some TV. I could be washing my new clothes or pruning my own roses that line the narrow pathway across our front yard. Instead, I’m just sitting here, wishing to hear the rumbling of a Harley approaching and pretending I don’t care if it doesn’t.

  I was spared this yearning. This idle waiting for a man to show up and pay attention to me. I don’t know what to do with it now that I have it.

  I’m still and rested and yet I’m not calm. My heart is tapping in my chest, going too fast, but at least the beat is steady and strong. It’s from excitement. Plain and simple. Something I hardly ever felt before my operation, because I had trained myself not to.

  I think I was shutting down the last few years before Stormi found out about the miracle operation that has now given me a new lease on life. I think I was saying goodbye to the world. And I think that’s what made her search for a cure so frantically and relentlessly, stopping at nothing to provide it for me when she did find it.

  And what am I doing with the new chance at life I was given?

  Exactly what I was doing before, that’s what.

  Sitting by my bedroom window and pining. And why? Because a guy I hardly know made me a promise he’s not keeping.

  Enough is enough.

  I stand up as fast as I dare and take a look around my very messy bedroom. The boxes filled with Stormi’s old clothes are taking up about half of the room, some of them half full, others already empty. The pile of clothes that was on the armchair is now covering my bed. I start by emptying the rest of the boxes and filling them up with my old clothes. The shapeless, flowery church-going dresses. The worn-out and washed-out lounge pants and hoodies. The underwear that is more fitting for a grandma than a young woman. But it was comfortable. I feel my cheeks heating up as I again think of the new pieces of underwear I got today. I hope I won’t blush this badly when Blaze peels off my clothes to reveal them. I hope that night comes.

  Before I’m even done filling the first box, I’m out of breath, my heart tapping very
fast, struggling to keep up with my need to be busy, but I keep going.

  And it doesn’t get any worse. I take regular breaks, letting my breathing and heartbeat return to normal, and eventually, I have all my old clothes packed up and my closet is filled with only my new acquisitions and Stormi’s gift.

  The sky outside is pitch black, the street silent when I finally close my closet door. Or try to since it’s so packed with stuff.

  It’s almost midnight. Blaze isn’t coming. And I wish I could say it doesn’t bother me.

  We forged a connection, he and I. Undeniably so. But maybe it was just me feeling that. I have no idea how relationships between men and women work. All I have is this burning wish to see him again that no amount of trying to ignore it will douse.

  Blaze

  Cool winds started rising before the sun even set fully, bringing with them sand and regret. I could be somewhere with Misti in my arms, getting to know everything about her. I could be dancing and eating and kissing with not a care in the world.

  But that kind of carefree existence was never meant to be my life.

  I might have dozed off a few times today, but I haven’t slept yet and my eyes and my brain are both full of burning sand. I don’t know if I’ll ever sleep again.

  We’re all still at the walled-in compound. The interrogations were finished hours ago and now Cross and the execs are having a meeting to decide what to do next. I’m sitting alone, leaning on the wall and trying to make a decision and trying not to remember Reggie. Neither is happening to me.

  Colt came over a few times to try and talk to me, but I hardly remember what he said before he read my state of mind right and removed himself. He knows me well enough to know exactly when to leave me alone.

  But he’s walking over to me again now, his face twisted with worry and his steps not as long as they usually are.

  “Wanna go grab a bite to eat?” he asks as he sits down next to me.

  “What’s gonna happen to the Snakes?” I ask instead.

  He shrugs. “Cross is still deciding that, but I doubt it’s gonna be anything good. My guess is they’ll stay here for a while longer though.”

  “You think he’ll let them live?” I ask. Not that I care. Not about any of them. The burning black ball of hate is back in my chest and it never lets me feel anything else.

  “I have no idea,” Colt says and play punches me in the arm. “Come on, let’s go eat something, and then you need to sleep. Your eyes are blood red and kinda scary, to be honest.”

  He laughs, but stops abruptly as I fix my gaze on him.

  “I’m going back home,” I say.

  His breath catches in his throat and he looks shocked. I can just see his brain working to come up with the right words to say to me. There are no right words. None at all. There’s nothing to say.

  “Cross will need us here,” he finally says.

  “I’m going alone, Colt,” I say and stand up, moving slowly like the old man that I’ll never get to be. That my uncle will never get to be. Or my other uncle, Tom that I hardly remember. Or my little brother. Or my big brother. Or…the list goes on and on and it will never stop.

  “Come on, Blaze, you’re being stupid,” Colt says but in a half-hearted way. He knows exactly what I’m actually saying. He knows me that well.

  “It’s where I belong,” I say anyway.

  Colt gets up too and faces me. I have trouble meeting his eyes.

  “It was so hard for you to get away from that shit, Blaze,” he says. “Don’t go rushing back into it.”

  “There was never any leaving it. And now people who had nothing to do with it are dead because I tried to pretend it was,” I say. “Don’t you see that?”

  He shakes his head in disbelief. “Don’t take that on yourself. It’s not your doing.”

  “Yeah, it kinda is,” I say and offer him my hand. “It was good knowing you, Colt. I hope we see each other again.”

  Now he really looks shocked and he seems to have forgotten how to breathe.

  “Stop talking like that,” he finally says in a choked voice. Then he takes my hand and pulls me into a very tight hug. I feel nothing of what I’m supposed to. Just a mild annoyance that this is taking so long. Once it gets too annoying I step away.

  “You’re really doing this?” he asks and I nod.

  “My place is with my family.”

  “Cross won’t like it,” he says.

  I chuckle coldly. “He has plenty of other things to worry about. I don’t expect to be around long enough for him to get to me.”

  Colt’s phone starts buzzing, and it takes him a couple of seconds to decide to pick it up. Once he does, he just listens to the person on the other line, the grimace on his face growing darker and darker.

  “All right, I’ll be right there,” he finally says and hangs up.

  His eyes are clear and scared and kinda sad as he looks at me. “Hawk needs me. But you stay right here. We’ll talk more when I get back.”

  I shrug and sit back down. That seems to be enough to convince him I’ll be here when he gets back.

  I don’t like lying to him. I’m no good at it anyway.

  But I have no intention of staying.

  My place is with my family, fighting the blood feud that will never end. Except in death.

  11

  Misti

  I wake up shivering, my teeth chattering, the dream of being stuck inside a glacier cave, surrounded by ice not quite fading even as I open my eyes to the murky grey light of dawn and realize I forgot to close my window before falling asleep on top of my covers.

  The dream wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t scary either. And the colors of it were the perfect watery blue, cold and untouchable, but gorgeous. I try to recall more of it as I walk to the window to close it, but it fades completely as I see the bike parked by the curb. Despite the lack of light, it shines silver and I know it’s not Ace’s. He wouldn’t park in the street. He always parks in the driveway.

  I wish I could run and in my mind, I kind of am, as I walk downstairs and open the front door wide, the cold blasting into my face. I hardly notice it.

  Blaze is sitting in one of the two wicker chairs on the porch to the left of the door, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, his jacket zipped up, his arms wrapped tight over his chest, and his chin down. But his eyes are open.

  “What are you doing out here? Why didn’t you ring the doorbell?” I ask as I walk towards him. But something in his eyes as he fixes them on me stops me mid-step. It’s death and it scares me.

  “I don’t know why I’m here,” he says in a raspy voice. “I meant to be far away from here by now.”

  He makes no sense. But all my fear is gone. Replaced by pain. His, not mine.

  I smile and extend my hand to him. It’s shaking.

  “Come inside, we’ll have some coffee and I’ll help you figure it out,” I say.

  A very faint smile alights on his face, mostly in his eyes. But he doesn’t take my hand.

  “I probably shouldn’t.”

  “But you will anyway,” I say assertively and smile wider. “Come, it’s freezing out here.”

  This time he does smile and the creaking of his leather jacket as he gets up suggests it did in fact freeze during the night.

  I have no idea what’s happening. I’m not even sure if this isn’t just another dream, and I’ll wake up any moment wishing it wasn’t.

  But I’m wide awake and he looks more real than anything or anyone I’ve ever seen as he precedes me into the house.

  “The kitchen is straight ahead,” I tell him as he stops at the foot of the stairs and looks back at me.

  He nods and keeps walking.

  My heart is tap-tapping in my chest again, steady as a clock.

  Once in the kitchen, he sits down at the table and I rush to the coffee maker because I need something to do while this scene normalizes in my head. He’s so quiet, I have to glance back over my shoulder while I mak
e the coffee just to be sure he’s really here. The scent of coffee soon fills the room, rich, and thick, and invigorating, telling me beyond doubt that this isn’t a dream. I never smell anything when I dream.

  “This isn’t how I pictured our first morning together,” he says in a faraway voice as I set his cup on the table in front of him.

  “Me either,” I say and chuckle. The sound is eerie and out of place in the silence.

  “What happened?” I ask more seriously.

  He looks at me sharply like my question surprised him. It surprised me too. But I know something bad happened. How did I know? I have no idea.

  “I’m going back home,” he says. “I was well on my way last night, but then I realized I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to you.”

  He smiles sadly.

  I’m so confused. I’ve always associated home with happiness and joy. Mostly because for me, the alternative to it was the hospital. But the way he talks about going home sounds like he’s marching to his execution.

  “I’m glad you came to see me before you left,” I say. “When will you be back?”

  “Never,” he says and it sends my heart fluttering, the steady strong rhythm gone like it never was.

  So many thoughts are flittering through my mind, I have no idea which one of them to focus on.

  “I don’t want to never see you again,” I finally mutter, since this seems like the most urgent thing to say.

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “But there’s no other way.”

  “Yes, there is,” I say. “Take me with you!”

  He looks at me like I’ve just said the craziest thing in the world.

  “It’s no place for you,” he finally says.

  “Sure it is, why wouldn’t it be?” I say. “I’ve never been on a trip. And I mean never.”

  He narrows his eyes at me, pity replacing shock. “It’s not that kinda trip, Misti. It won’t be fun.”

  His tone as he says it suggests the word fun in this context is the world’s biggest understatement.