Inflame Me

by Ryan Michele

  “Hey, yourself.” I toss down the wrench and rise to my feet, wiping the grease on a nearby rag.

  Tanner stands with her hands in the back pockets of her jeans and flip flops on her feet. Her tight shirt has a huge mouth with a tongue sticking out, and it hugs every one of her curves to perfection. She’s a small, little thing, reminding me of a little sprite. I shake my head at my thoughts.

  “Dagger won’t tell me anything,” she says as her eyes connect to mine, almost pleading with me.

  “I’m not saying shit, either. It’s taken care of, and that’s all you need to know.” I swear I hear her growl low in her throat, and I have to admit it’s pretty fucking sexy. “What are you out doing?”

  She shrugs, her right shoulder hitting her ear. “I had to get out of there for a bit. I needed air.” I wouldn’t doubt that she does.

  A phone rings, and Tanner pulls a cell from her back pocket then looks at the display. She doesn’t answer, only hits ignore.

  I raise my brow.

  “I think it’s the cops,” she explains. “I’m waiting for them to leave a message so I know for sure. It’s my mom’s phone, actually. I’ve been carrying it around.”

  “Come on.” I leave the garage, making my way over to the picnic table near the huge playset that was built for the kids. I hop up onto the table, and Tanner’s hot ass follows. She sits not even a foot from me, her elbows resting on her knees. The smell of sweet flowers invades my nostrils, and I suck in deeply.

  “Do you know what you're gonna say to them?” I ask.

  “Yeah. Dagger won’t tell me anything, but he told me to tell the cops Mom brought me down here to meet him, and we got in a car accident. I’ve got it; I just don’t want to deal with it.”

  “Better sooner than later.”

  She nods. “It’s nice here,” she says softly.

  “It’s not bad. I grew up here, so I’m used to it.”

  Her head turns to me. “You have family around here?”

  I stare across the compound. “The only family I’ve got are the brothers you see.”

  “I’ve only got my mom.” She pauses, and I look at her. “She’s always been my rock. It’s kind of strange being hers.”

  “I bet, but from what I can tell, you did the right thing by coming here.”

  Her emerald eyes connect with mine. “I think so, but I’m shitty at this running from the law thing.” She chuckles. I really like the sound.

  “Yeah, you aren’t good in that arena. Need to teach you a thing or two.”

  She shakes her head emphatically. “Nope. I don’t want to know. I’m never going through this again.” I wish I could tell her that it won’t, but shit happens. That's life. I won’t lie to her.

  Her phone buzzes. “I’d better check it.” She starts pushing buttons, and then her gaze goes off in the distance like she’s deep in thought. She pushes the phone off and turns to me. “Yep, cops need to talk to my mother as soon as possible. I guess I should call them back.”

  “Might as well do it now and get it over with.” I wouldn’t mind listening to the conversation, either.

  She shakily dials the number. “Officer Mayer?” She pauses. “This is Tanner O’Ryan, Mearna O’Ryan’s daughter. You called?” She remains sitting next to me, her eyes averted.

  “We were in a car accident, and Mom hasn’t been feeling well; that’s why I’m calling you instead of her.”

  “She’s okay. Sore, but healing.”

  “Me, I’m fine. Can you tell me why you’re calling?” I have to admit she’s damn convincing, much better at this than her murder clean up skills.

  “I understand you’d like to speak with her, but she’s sleeping. I’ll be more than happy to speak to you on her behalf … Okay … Mom brought me to Georgia to meet my father for the first time,” she tells the cop, and I suck in everything on this one-sided conversation. “No, we left right after I got off work for my vacation on Thursday … Right … I believe she told him.”

  Tanner’s eyes turn to me, her face white as a ghost. Guess she’s finding out what happened to the house. Her jaw goes slack as she listens to the phone, her eyes searching me, but I give nothing away.

  “Oh, my God. Is James all right?” That sounds pretty believable even to me. “Oh no!” she says a little bit over the top, but somehow reels herself in. “You mean he’s gone? … There’s nothing left?” Her eyes grow to the size of saucers as she stares at me, silently begging me for answers. “I see … I’ll be sure to tell my mother right away … His parents did?” I’m definitely curious about that. “Okay. I’ll tell my mom. Thank you,” she says then turns off her phone.

  “You guys blew up the house?” she practically squeals.

  I wrap my arm around her, pulling her to my body. She’s got some serious fight in her. “We did what had to be done to take care of the problem,” I say in a low voice. “Do you think the cops bought the story?”

  She huffs. “Seemed like it.”

  “Good. What’s going on with his parents?”

  She stills in my arms, so I release her. She wraps her hands around her body. “They claimed James’s body. They are setting up the arrangements for him.” She shakes her head. “We’ll have to go back for that.”

  “It’ll all work out, Sprite,” I tell her, half believing it. She’s the one who’s got to believe it so she can keep her shit together.

  She jumps off the table, brushing her ass with her hands. “I need to go and talk to my mom.” She skirts away before I can say another word.

  GIRLISH LAUGHTER COMES from the bar of the club, and my eyes swing to it like magnets. Tanner and Princess. From the looks of things, it’s more Princess than Tanner. Her expression is kind of glum, but she’s putting on a brave face. It’s fake as hell, yet she’s trying.

  I have been away for the past day and a half on club business and haven’t had the opportunity to see her since our small chat outside the garage. After hearing her conversation with the cops, I told Pops and Dagger, and all seemed well.

  Looking at her now, I see exactly what I’ve been missing.

  She’s wearing these sexy as fuck jeans that curve her ass as she sits on the barstool and a navy blue shirt that hugs her just as tightly. No doubt, under those clothes is one hell of a body.

  “Don’t fucking think about it.” Dagger comes up to the table I parked my ass at and falls in the seat beside me. “I don’t have a damn clue if she’s my kid or not, but if she is, stay away.”

  “Since when do I listen the fuck to you?” I bite back. I fucking hate people trying to control me. I’m the one in control. I keep it that way for a fucking reason. This shit isn’t club-related. If I want to fuck her, I will. He may be my best friend, but even he won’t tell me what to do.

  “I know, but fuck.” He rubs his hand over his face in frustration. “I can’t believe I could have a kid. I cover that shit up religiously, but back then …” His head shakes like he’s remembering some fond memory. “Fuck, I don’t know, brother.”

  “Don’t know what to tell ya.” Mearna’s been knocked out on pain meds for the past couple of days while her body heals, so Dagger went with me on the run. It was good because Tanner doesn’t know shit, and Dagger walking around like a caged animal is not fun.

  “Why the fuck wouldn’t she tell me about Tanner? My fucking kid? I’ve missed her whole fucking life,” he drones on.

  I’ve got to say I feel for the brother. I don’t know what I would do if the tables were turned.

  She’s turned my way several times, our eyes connecting like some live wire between us, but neither of us have moved.

  Breaker catches my eye at the bar, talking to Tanner. He’s leaning against it, beer in hand, and whatever in the fuck he’s saying is making her laugh. This time, it’s not the fake shit I noticed a few minutes ago. No, this shit is real.

  As she flips her sexy as fuck reddish-blonde hair, which I initially thought was fire red when I first saw her, but realized it
was the party lights, over her shoulder, anger bubbles inside of me like hot lava. I don’t know where it comes from, and I don’t know why, but it’s there, and it’s steady. I don’t like the fact that someone is making her laugh, and I don’t like the fact that she’s going to be leaving to go to that fuck-wad’s funeral. Fuck!

  The grip on my bottle gets tighter, and my breathing picks up without caution. When her head falls back from another laugh, the grip tightens, and the bottle shatters in my hand, beer spilling all over the table and shards of glass entering my hand. I know I’m cut, probably pretty badly, but my eyes don’t leave Tanner. I can’t even force the fuckers to.

  “Brother!” Dagger yells beside me, standing swiftly and his chair scraping against the floor. “What the fuck?”

  Tanner, Princess, and Breaker all look our way. Princess’s eyes grow wide as she hops off the stool, grabbing a towel and darting over. Tanner quickly follows after her.

  “What the hell, you big lug?” Princess says as I feel her wrapping my hand.

  I need to get a fucking grip. This shit ain’t right. No, I don’t do this shit. I don’t care. I share all the fucking time. This has to end.

  I abruptly stand, clutching the towel in my hand. “I don’t need your fucking help,” I bark at Princess then storm to my room.

  Tanner’s eyes stay on me, and I can’t get the fuck out there fast enough.

  WHAT IN THE hell was that look he gave me when he stormed out of here? It was a mix of contentment and disgust. I know I look bad with the bruises, but I was never expecting that kind of reaction.

  Before we left, I thought he may have felt whatever it is that eats at me every time he’s around. Sure, it was brief, but I couldn’t stay by him another minute longer since I was so damn nervous. As a result, I made the excuse that my mom needed me. Then he left with Dagger for a day or so, and now this.

  “What the fuck is his problem?” Princess asks Dagger.

  I realize that my mother says he’s my father, but I just have issues with calling him daddy dearest right now. I don’t even know the man. I don’t know any of them, and they act so differently than I do.

  I cornered Dagger, telling him what the cops told me, but he refused to tell me anything except what I told them was good. I didn’t think it would work for shit, though. Sure, I had no one at home who was pining for me, and with my vacation, no one would be expecting me. I’m pretty much a loner, and I like it that way. However, if the house blew up, I figured there would be some investigation or something.

  I tried to ask more questions, but Dagger only shook his head.

  I’ve never had a father before, but I don’t think you’re supposed to be scared of him, are you? Because I’m scared as shit of Dagger. Only one person scares me more, and that’s Rhys.

  “Fuck if I know. Asshole got beer all over my fucking jeans,” Dagger bites out. “One minute, we’re talking, and the next minute, he’s crushing fucking bottles with his hand.”

  I am probably not supposed to be totally, utterly impressed by this, but I am and also intrigued. I can’t believe he’s strong enough to do that. I’ve never met anyone who could, not that I have a lot to pick from. I have been to bars where fights break out, though. Bottles get slammed and broken on the table, but never by a fist.

  “Who the hell knows with Rhys?” Princess says, shaking her head. “I swear that man is going to combust one day.”

  “Why do you think that?” I question. I mean, there has to be a reason one would think that way.

  “He’s not one to mess with, Tanner. He’s hard. Biker hard.”

  I stare at her, stunned. “What in the hell is biker hard?”

  Princess motions for me to come back over to the bar. I follow and jump up on the stool. “Biker hard …” She sits there in seriously deep contemplation.

  “Is it that hard to describe?”

  “For me, kinda. I’ve grown up in this life; it’s all I know. Someone from the outside more than likely won’t see things the way we do. It’s hard to explain.” Princess grabs her beer and takes a long pull from it.

  I say nothing, because what can I say? I have no idea, and if she can’t explain it when she’s lived it, how in the hell am I going to figure it out?

  “Let’s do an easy one.” Princess points to the corner of the room, my eyes following her finger. “What do you see?”

  “Uh … Three women sitting on the couch with practically no clothes on.” Well, really, no clothes. What they have are small scraps of fabric that cover their nipples and other lady parts. Damn, I would never wear something like that out in public and around all these guys.

  “Those are club mommas.”

  I turn back to her. “Club mommas?”

  “Yep. Free pussy.” I gasp at the thought. “They give it up to whomever, whenever, and however. Any brother, that is.”

  “They do what?” I pause. “Like prostitutes?” I’ve never been around one. Sure, I’ve seen movies and seen it depicted on television, but never actually met one. I’m not a prude by any means, but really?

  “No, not prostitutes. Those girls don’t get paid.”

  “Then why do they do it?” At least get paid for it.

  “To be part of the club. They aren’t really, but it’s the closest they are ever going to get. They put their pussy out there for all the guys, so they get a spot on that couch and protection, but if they bring any bad shit to the club, they’re out,” Princess explains.

  “Is that what you are?”

  Princess sucks in a deep breath and waves pulsate off her. I immediately feel like a heel. Me and my stupid big mouth.

  Dagger chuckles. “Nope, Princess won’t give up that pretty pussy to anyone but Cruz. It’s a damn shame.” I still at his words, and Princess must see it.

  “You’re freaking your kid out, Dagger,” she tells him, shaking her head, but a smile graces her face.

  “I am who I am, Princess.” And I’m totally getting that vibe from him. It seems like every man here is who he is and makes no changes for anyone. Okay, Tanner, welcome to biker world.

  “No, Tanner, I’m not a club momma. I’m an ol’ lady.” I really need to brush up on this shit, because if I ever called my mother an old lady, she would tan my hide.

  “I need another beer,” Princess murmurs before going to get one and coming back. “An ol’ lady is one of the brothers’ women.” She turns around, showing me the back of her leather vest. It says ‘Property of Cruz.’

  “Property?” I question.

  “Yep. I’m his. In our relationship, it also means that he’s mine. We are committed to one another and no one else. He doesn’t screw around with other women, and I don’t screw around with other men. It’s like marriage, biker style.” She twirls the bottle as I take in the information, my mind racing at all the thoughts circling it, starting to put the pieces together. “I only wear this when I’m here at the club with the brothers or with my man. There are rules to wearing it.”

  “So some ‘brothers’ ”—I kind of stumble on that word a bit—“have ol’ ladies and still have other women?”

  “Yep. If both parties agree to the scenario, then that’s what it is.”

  I again try to wrap my head around this information. I guess it wouldn’t be cheating if they both agree to it, but who would? Who would allow their significant other to be with someone else? I look over to the women still sitting on the couch. I could never allow my guy to do that shit to me. It’s not even on my radar.

  “I’m sure I couldn’t do that. So how does that work? With you and them here in the same space?”

  “It gets tricky at times, especially if one of the brothers is getting it on the side, and the ol’ lady doesn’t know. One thing you gotta know about the club is that the club and brothers come first. It doesn’t matter what situation it is; those two things are always first.”

  It seems very stonage-ish, but I keep that to myself. Who the hell am I to say anything? I have no clue. I h
ave no reason to judge. If this is my father’s life, then it is. It also doesn’t mean that my mother and I need to be part of it.

  “It’s just a lot to take in.”

  Princess laughs. “You have no idea, sister.”

  Sister? Did she really just call me that? Warmth comes to my heart. I’ve never had a sister before, and just being called that is … well, awesome.

  “Sister?” I question.

  “Around here, us ol’ ladies or kids of brothers, we’re family. We call each other sisters. It’s an endearment between us.”

  I smile at that. I have only ever had my mom. I had a couple of good friends, but they are long gone, living their lives. I haven’t talked to them in ages. Sure, I have my co-workers, but that’s exactly what they are—people I work with. I wouldn’t exactly call them friends.

  I always wondered what it would be like to have an actual family, one you would spend holidays with or have big meals with. Don’t get me wrong, my mom did the best she could, and I do not begrudge her one bit for that. It is merely something that I have never experienced before, and I gotta admit I like it, maybe even more than I should. I’m also confounded because I don’t exactly know how to act with it.

  “I’d better go check on my mom.” I hop off the stool and begin my way to Dagger’s room.

  Mom’s been pretty out of it, and I know Dagger wants to talk to her, but that just hasn’t been an option yet. Hell, I would like some answers, too.

  I’ve been sleeping with Mom, so I’m grateful to Blaze for getting those clean sheets. I even scrubbed Dagger’s bathroom yesterday, too scared to sit on it to pee.

  “Fuck!” is yelled through one of the doors as I make my way down. I stop at the semi tortured sound. “Son of a motherfucker.” This time, it’s growled in pure pain. Rhys.

  Should I knock? Should I keep on walking? Shit. He may have something up his ass, but I know the guy who talked to me yesterday is in there.

  I knock softly and push open the door, poking my head in. “Rhys?”

  His eyes snap to mine, fury pulsing off his body in waves so thick I’m surprised I’m still upright and not falling on my ass.