Satan's Breath
Page 27
The mayor frowned. “I don’t know, Blaze. What if someone wants to take a shot at you?”
She laughed. “Hey, I’m not runnin’ for President. I just want to sign a few autographs.”
“Okay, but be careful. If you see anything suspicious, withdraw gracefully. I want the chief to go with you.”
She and the chief walked over slowly, the chief scanning the crowd suspiciously while his hand rested on his revolver. The fans yelled even louder when they saw her approach, and reached out to try and touch her.
She saw autograph books waving in the air, and after she signed as many as she could, she shook hands with several, and said goodbye to all. She even noticed some were crying, something she felt like doing herself.
The chief kept his eyes peeled for anyone who might want to harm her, and then escorted her back to the road where Blaze began saying her goodbyes to Greg and Mr. Farewell, one by one.
“I still think it could have worked,” Greg said as he looked at her longingly.
“The broadcast?”
“No, Blaze, us.”
She smiled. “Yeah, maybe. Just don’t forget me.”
He smiled at her. “I couldn’t if I tried. When you dig into a man, it’s not easy to get you out.”
“Nice parting words. Thanks, Greg.” She walked up to Mr. Farewell. “Goodbye, sir. I know I gave you a lot of headaches, but you handled them like a champ. I never did get a chance to thank you for allowing us to do the show that brought Barry Schorr out. If it hadn’t been for you…well, I hate to think.”
Mr. Farewell didn’t say anything, just squeezed her hands and smiled. Blaze thought she saw tears in his eyes.
As she hugged the mayor, he whispered in her ear, “On behalf of everyone in Savannah, we love you. As far as I’m concerned, you can come back anytime.”
Tears edged her eyes as she looked up at him with gratitude. “Thanks. Thanks a lot.”
When she came to the chief, she put her arms around him and kissed him full on the lips. Everyone yelled, and whistled, and gave out with wolf calls. When her lips separated from his, she said, softly, “Sorry, Chief, but I had to give them something.”
“Do much more of that and you’ll have to give me something.”
Blaze laughed. “Hey, Chief, tell that wife of yours not to have so many headaches.” She winked. “She doesn’t know what she’s missing.”
Through with her goodbyes, Blaze stepped back from all of them and stood there waving. The lights were stationed on her, and the cameras rolled. Her legs were spread, with one long, shapely leg showing through the split in her gathered skirt. Her blouse glittered in the lights, and she yelled out as loud as she could. “Goodbye, Savannah, it was nice while it lasted!” With that, she turned and swayed over the county line, stopping just beyond long enough to turn slightly, lift her hand in final farewell, and throw all her fans a kiss.
The crowd watched as she turned away from them. And with an exaggerated sway that only Blaze Alexander could manage, she walked away, her silhouette getting swallowed up in the bright rolling fog, and the crispness of her stiletto heels growing faint with each step she took.
With Blaze finally out of sight, a blanket of sadness fell over the crowd. The klieg lights blinked out, leaving only the camera lights spotlighting the reporters who stood in place while they made their comments, and then signed off, putting one of the most historic events in Savannah’s history to rest. Everyone turned away with sadness for what they thought was the end of an era.
As he turned to go back to the city, the mayor happened to look up at a sign that read ‘Riverwood Road.’ He stood there thinking. “Not anymore,” he whispered, “starting tomorrow, the paperwork goes in that changes it to Blaze Alexander Crossing.” He smiled, knowing that after tonight, that’s what everyone would call it, anyway.
Wade Perry walked over to where Greg stood and put his hand on his shoulder. “God, what a woman, huh?”
Still looking toward the fog, Greg spoke softly, “Yeah, she was one hell of a lady, all right.” They both stood watching the fog as if they could still see her.
“Come on.” Wade squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll give you a ride back to the city.”
“Can’t, I’m with Bran.”
“Hell, he won’t care. Besides, I want to tell you about this incredible deejay I heard when I was in New…”
“Hell no!” Greg turned to him. “I don’t want to hear any more stories about deejays you heard anywhere, anyhow.”
“No, it’s ‘anyhow, anywhere’.”
“Anywhere—”
“No, man, it’s ‘anyhow—’”
“Wade, it’s ‘anywh—’”
“Wanna make a bet?”
“Yeah? What are…?”
The WSCX dynamic duo walked away, their bickering voices getting lost in the wind.
* * * *
Blaze walked the short distance to a gas station where a car was supposed to be waiting to take her to the nearest airport. When she walked up, the car wasn’t there. She looked around, and then looked down at her watch. “God, this is the last straw. All I need is to be stranded in Bugtussel, Alabama, Georgia, or wherever the hell I am.”
She opened her purse and pulled out a canister of pills. Pulling off the cap and turning it over, a couple of aspirin fell into her palm. Looking around for a water fountain, she finally saw one and walked over. Leaning her head back, she put the aspirin on the back of her tongue, leaned down, and got a drink.
“I always said, anyone who could swallow a pill at a drinking fountain deserves to get well.”
Blaze nearly gagged. She jerked herself up and turned around. When she saw Erik leaning against a truck with his arms folded across his chest, she suddenly dropped everything and flew into his arms. They stood there among scattered aspirin and smothered each other with kisses until they could hardly breathe.
“What are you doing here? You can’t be—”
“Yeah, I am. I was staying at a little motel not far from here, and when I heard what happened, I volunteered. I had my own little episode with Calvin Little, and after I told it to the mayor, he had even more reason to fire Calvin. Calvin Little’s ass is cooked to the friggin’ core.”
“I love you, Erik Grant. I don’t care about your past, Calvin Little, or my uncle Ralph. I only care about our future together.”
“My God,” he whispered, “I’ve been to hell and back waiting to hear you say those words.”
Her gaze moved along his handsome face drinking in the sight of him, “I just can’t believe you’re here.”
“Well, I am, big as life, so let’s get out of here, okay?”
“Where are we going?”
“I don’t know. Wherever you say. I’m free as a bird.”
“First back to L.A., and then who knows? The way I feel, I’d like to conquer the world. Let’s start in a place that’s never heard of me.”
Erik scratched his head. “Well, now, that’s a tall order, but we’ll give it a try. Who knows? There may be a few yokels in a wheat field, or a cow barn somewhere that’ve never heard of the mysterious Queen of Steam.”
As their truck chugged down the long winding road, Blaze looked up at the last of the glowing horizon.
As they rode into it like she’d read in all the fairy tales, she turned to look at Erik’s handsome profile, and knew she’d found him at last—her hero. A man strong enough to slay the big, ugly dragon that once haunted her past. His sword, not one of steel, but hot, burning flesh. A strong surge of desire gathered in her groin, and for the first time in her life, she couldn’t wait to have him inside her.
Erik looked down at her hand as it slowly crept along his thighs to his generous manhood, and shifted a questioning gaze over at her. “My God, woman, are you gettin’ fresh with me?”
With love in her eyes, and her deep whiskey voice dripping with seduction, Blaze whispered, “Hell, yes!”
THE END
ABOUT TEMPLE MADISON
My name is Temple Madison, and I write about men, which includes manlove on occasion. Some of my men are good, others are bad. Some noble, others will scare the crap out of you. As a rule I put characters together who would never find each other in real life. But why not? I’m a fiction writer, and anything goes!
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