Blaze: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World)

by Delaney Foster

  Unrequited.

  That’s what they call it when you want something from someone, and they don’t want it back.

  Forsaken.

  That’s what it feels like to be alone inside, to be rejected.

  Defeated.

  That’s one thing I refuse to be.

  I walk back inside the house with a smile on my face. It’s the same smile I wore when my uncle, my only living relative, told me he was sorry but they just didn’t have room to take in another child. The same smile I wore when I told Gavin it was okay that he cheated on me with Jane, that they belonged together. The same smile I wore when I saw Travis at In-N-Out three weeks after he changed the locks… with a beautiful blonde on his arm. It’s the smile of a motherfucking warrior. It’s my shield, my F-U to the world when the world tries to bring me down.

  Brody was right. Nothing about what just happened felt casual. When I saw the look on Blaze’s face after he saw Levi, all I wanted to do was fix it, fix him. Until that moment, I’d been terrified of how being with Blaze would make me feel. I was worried that I would lose control, that he would consume me. But in that moment, I knew I’d been wrong. He needed to escape his pain, and I needed to be the one to take it from him. Whatever he needed, I needed it too. In that moment, I knew Blaze wouldn’t just consume me.

  We were already consuming each other.

  Levi and Brody are standing next to the kitchen. Mirror images facing each other with one hip leaned against the island and arms folded across their chests. They both turn and watch me as I walk by.

  Brody straightens first. “Everything okay?”

  I begin layering the lasagna noodles in the pan. “Everything is great. He was just dropping Liam off.”

  Levi unfolds his arms and turns to face me. “How do you know my brother?”

  Brody and I share a look very close to that of a student caught cheating on a test. Part of me was hoping Blaze was the reason Levi and his family wanted to sponsor HoH. That would make explanations like this easier. According to Kai, we have the racing circuit to thank for our newest sponsor. I still haven’t figured out whether I believe in happenstance or not, but if I did, this would be one hell of a coincidence.

  “There was an accident at Blaze’s brewery, and Liam was involved.” I’m not sure how much more detail I can go into without making Liam—or the house for that matter—look like an episode of Shameless. This man is about to invest a lot of money in our mission. I need him to know it’s worth it.

  Levi raises a brow. “The fire?”

  “Yes. But it wasn’t…” I feel myself stumbling on my words in order to not unleash the Mama Bear and get defensive. “Liam is a good kid. That’s not normal behavior for him.”

  “So, what happened to him? To the boy?”

  “Blaze was very understanding. He said he wouldn’t press charges as long as Liam helped clean up the mess he made,” Brody says as he starts taking plates out of the cabinet.

  “My brother, the saint.” Levi chuckles to himself. “Lucky for the kid.”

  I layer the shredded chicken over the noodles to keep my thoughts where they need to be and off of Blaze. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. This kind of thing doesn’t happen often. It’s the first time ever, actually. And Liam isn’t a troublemaker. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it all, still hoping one day he’ll talk to me about it.”

  Levi reaches across the counter and rests his hand on top of mine. “Relax, Adrienne. I’m not judging you or the boy or this house or your organization. I was just curious. I thought maybe you and my brother were… well…” He shakes his head. “Anyway. I’m glad we got that out in the open.”

  I pull my hand away to smother the chicken in ranch sauce and cheese. “Thank you for that. And so am I. When I first met you, I thought maybe Blaze had mentioned something to you about what we do.”

  He laughs. “Blaze hasn’t said a word to me in three years.”

  I finish the last layer then put the pan in the oven. “I’m sorry.”

  Levi clenches his jaw. The pain that’s in Blaze’s eyes when he talks about his brother is also right here in Levi’s. What happened with these two? “Don’t be. It’s between us. We’ll work it out one day.”

  Something in my gut tells me it won’t be that simple.

  Throughout dinner, Levi entertains the boys with stories about racing. He’s so animated when he talks about the thrill of the crowd and the high speed of the race. Everyone, including Brody, is hypnotized by his excitement. By the end of the meal, he invites us all to enjoy box seats at his next race. I don’t know much about the racing world, but the looks on the boys’ faces is enough to make me say yes—as long as we get permission from Kai, of course.

  He tells us about how he got started racing and all the different places he’s seen. The boys listen in awe to stories about a life they think they don’t deserve, a life I want for them more than I want my next breath. I’d give anything to take their starry-eyed dreams and make them real.

  Levi talks about his parents. He talks about the famous people he’s met. He does nothing but talk. And talk. And talk. I start to wonder if the guy just likes the sound of his own voice. He’s so different from Blaze, who hardly talks about himself at all. I busy myself with cleaning the kitchen while they gather in the living room after dinner. It doesn’t keep his voice from echoing in the open space. At one point, I half expected him to make us mirror YouTube videos to the TV from his cell phone so we could all watch him in action. By the time Levi says goodnight and shows himself to the door, I’m pretty sure my ears are bleeding.

  Brody should have been gone hours ago, but he insisted on staying through dinner. I’m thankful for that because every time Levi looked at me from across the table and winked, my gut twisted.

  He plops down on the sofa and stretches a long arm across the back. “I think now would be a good time to finish our conversation.”

  I wait for the sound of the boys’ footsteps thumping as they go up the stairs to go quiet, then I sink into the cushions next to him. “Trust me, that conversation is over.” There’s no other way to explain it without reopening that wound, so I don’t even try.

  He gives me a side glance. “It didn’t look over from where I was standing.”

  “Well, you weren’t standing where I was.”

  “No, but I am a dude, and I know what it looks like when a man is pissing on his fire hydrant.”

  “You should really rethink your analogies.”

  “You know what I mean. That look Blaze gave you when he walked in and saw you with Levi. That was pure possession.”

  Possession.

  That’s when you belong to someone.

  How can I belong to someone who doesn’t even want me?

  The next morning, our neighbor, Mrs. Williams, comes to the house to sit with the boys while I drive Liam to the brewery. My stomach is in knots the whole twenty-five-minute drive there. It gets worse when I pull up and see that his car isn’t here. He knows it’s my day to drop off Liam. We’ve had the same schedule for over two weeks.

  He’s avoiding me.

  It’s not like I’m going to strip my clothes off and beg him to fuck me. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it, but he made his choice. I’m a twenty-four-year-old woman who has dealt with a life full of rejection. Somewhere along the way I got tired of begging people to want me. I know how to straighten my ponytail and move on.

  The tall guy from the other day walks over to the car. He narrows his gaze and tries to peer inside, shielding the sun with a hand over his eyes.

  I roll down my window, and he leans in. I squint up at him. “Good morning. Blaze didn’t say anything about being late.”

  “Morning. He went to pick up some plans. He’ll be back later.” He gets this smile on his face, this cat-that-ate-the-canary smile that is one-hundred percent cocky but kind of adorable. “But I promise the kid is in good hands.”

  Okay, maybe Blaze is
n’t avoiding me.

  “I’m sure he is. I’m Adrienne. If you need anything, Liam knows my number.”

  “It’s nice to finally meet you, Adrienne. I’m Hector Romero, but most people call me Hero.” He stands up and stretches his arms above his head, making his shirt rise up to just below his belly button.

  Hero. I wonder how many times that nickname has gotten him laid. Probably not nearly as many as those abs have.

  Liam walks around the car and gives the guy the kind of handshake that only guys seem to know how to do—the kind where you don’t actually shake hands. It’s more like you slide hands then hook fingers. This is why girls hug. Hugs are so much easier.

  “Well then, it was nice to meet you, Hero. I’ll be back later to pick him up.” I nod toward Liam who started walking toward the brewery.

  “Looking forward to it,” he answers with a wink and a salute, then he walks off to catch up with Liam.

  Somewhere between picking up broken crayons off the floor and doing laundry, I decide to sit down and catch up on the latest episodes of Lucifer on Netflix. Zeke is sitting at the dining table, making his latest masterpiece out of modeling clay. Ryder is putting the final touches on his Lego representation of the Eiffel Tower. Jacob is upstairs reading The Hound of the Baskervilles for his summer reading program before school starts in a couple of weeks. Nate is upstairs taking advantage of Liam’s absence by not having to take turns on the PlayStation.

  It’s peaceful.

  I tuck my feet up under my butt and curl into the corner of the sofa. As soon as I find the remote and turn on the television, the doorbell rings. My phone is in the kitchen, so I can’t cheat and see who it is without getting up.

  We get legal documents delivered here all the time thanks to the nature of our organization, so I don’t think twice about opening the door without looking through the top glass first. The moment I swing it open and see the man standing there, my heart falls to my stomach.

  He smiles, revealing a top row of perfect teeth and a set of dimples, but there’s nothing charming or kind about it. His grin is sinister. It’s predatory. Tattoos crawl from the top of his neck down beneath his solid black T-shirt then down both arms and to his fingers. His dirty blond hair is tousled on top of his head but cut short in the back and on the sides, and his eyes… His eyes are the devil’s eyes, so dark brown and soulless.

  There’s a pistol tucked into the front of his jeans. He makes zero effort to hide it from me or anyone. A shiver shoots down my spine, coating my entire body in an icy chill.

  He cocks his head to one side and narrows his eyes to regard me. “I need to talk to Liam.”

  It’s not a request. He isn’t asking permission. It’s a demand, plain and simple, one I refuse to meet.

  Instinct tells me to slam the door in his face. Common sense tells me that’s a bad idea. “He’s not here.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yep.” I end the word with the pop of the “p,” hoping he’ll buy into my charade that I’m not affected at all by his presence.

  He looks over my shoulder—not a hard task since he’s about a whole foot taller than me. I pray none of the boys have ventured into the living room and into his line of sight. Whatever he sees, or doesn’t see, seems to satisfy him because he glances back at me for a brief second before he turns back toward his car.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” I call after him.

  He turns halfway. His upper lip curls up in a wicked smirk. “Not unless you plan on inviting me in.”

  Hello, Prey. Meet Hunter.

  “Your name. So I can tell Liam you stopped by.”

  “Mal. Tell him Mal stopped by.” He spins on his heel, heading back to his car. “I’ll be seeing you.”

  The second his car is out of sight, I text Jake to come sit with the boys so I can go get Liam. Other than Brody, he’s the only one I trust to keep them safe. I’m done tiptoeing around what happened the night of the fire.

  It’s time for the truth.

  Liam is nowhere to be seen when I pull up at the brewery. The blue Corvette from earlier is gone, and Blaze’s car is parked near the front door.

  Inside, Blaze is sitting at one of the tables talking to a man in a gray polo and jeans. Liam is up on a ladder, scrubbing the wooden ceiling with steel wool. I march across the hardwood floor and stop at the bottom of the ladder.

  “It’s time to go home.”

  Liam blows a curl off his forehead then glances back up at the roof. “Yes ma’am. I’m almost done. I just have a few boards left.”

  I prop a hand on one hip. “Off the ladder and down here, Liam. Now.”

  Blaze crosses the room, stopping right behind me. My stomach feels the tight pull it always does when he’s near. “Look, if this is about last night, don’t take it out on the kid. He’s got one more day of work then he never has to come here again. You never have to come here again.” His voice is low, almost a whisper, but still deep and controlled. His breath on my neck makes my nipples tighten against the lace of my bralette.

  My body vibrates at the sound of his voice, but my anger is a buzzkill. “Oh my God, you are something. You think this is about us?” I spin around to face him. “Oh, right. There is no us. There’s only you.” Apparently, there are stages of rejection just like there are stages of grief. Last night, I felt sorry for myself. Right now, I’m just pissed.

  He narrows his eyes. “Me? Did you even hear anything I said last night? I’m trying not to make this about me.”

  “You know, last night during dinner I kept thinking to myself, how can two brothers be so different? But now it’s clear. You’re exactly the same. The only difference is that Levi flaunts his ego on the outside. You hide yours behind a charming smile.” Suddenly I’m ten feet tall and bulletproof. Blaze is two-hundred-some-odd pounds of pure muscle. I have to crane my neck to look up at him for crying out loud. What the hell am I thinking?

  He grabs me by the arm, his fingers biting into my flesh. “Excuse me just a moment,” he says to a man sitting at one of the wooden tables studying a set of blueprints.

  Liam watches us from the top of the ladder. Before I can tell him to get down here for the third time, I’m being hauled into an office behind the bar. Blaze closes the door behind us, slamming me against it. He holds my hands above my head and leans forward, caging me in. His eyes blaze with anger, frustration. Desire. Twin pools of molten copper as deep as the ocean I am drowning in. His scent, soft leather and clean laundry, sinks into me. I should fight him off, but I can’t force myself to do it.

  “First things first. I am nothing like my brother. Nothing,” he grits out. “Is that clear?”

  When I don’t answer the pulse in his neck throbs. I want to lick it. Like a wounded animal. I want to kiss him and make it better. Instead, I swallow my need and focus on his face.

  He continues, his gaze searing through me. “Second, I did what I did last night because I’m trying to protect you.” He takes another step forward, contradicting his own words.

  Protect me? From what? Multiple orgasms? My heart is protected, boarded up nice and tight. The only thing he can hurt is my pride.

  I narrow my eyes. “Why? Because you think I’m not strong enough to handle casual sex between two consenting adults? Or because you think I’m one of your groupies that hangs out at the bar chomping at the bit for a minute of your attention?”

  He glares at me, his nostrils flaring as he tries to control his breathing.

  I fix my gaze on his. “I’m not weak, and I won’t beg. I’m not that woman.”

  We stare at each other, chests heaving, breath panting, lips parted. His fingers flex around my wrists as if he’s struggling with the thought of letting me go.

  He licks his lips as his gaze drops to my mouth. “I know you’re not. Fuck me. I know.”

  His words are strangled, unguarded and guttural, and I feel him slipping. We’re both slipping… headfirst into insanity.

  “
I can’t slay your demons, Blaze. But I can make them quiet for a little while.” He releases my wrists, but I keep my hands above my head. He glides his fingertips down the length of my arms. A gentle touch from strong hands. Torture. Pure effing torture. He stops when he gets to my armpits, watching my chest heave.

  He rests his forehead against mine, squeezing my shoulder blades and pulling my body to his. “Last night you said you were scared of me. The truth is I’m scared of me too. I’m afraid I can’t be careful with you.” Then he drops his hands and steps away.

  “I don’t need you to be careful. I just need you to be ready. When you decide that’s good enough for you, you know where to find me.”

  I should have kept my mouth shut. I should want to stay away from him.

  I should.

  But I don’t.

  He lets me go without another word. The minute I step out of the office, my soul mourns the loss of him.

  “Are you mad at me?” Liam asks on the drive home.

  “We’ll talk about it when we get back to HoH.” My nerves are already a livewire. I don’t want to talk about the fire and get either one of us upset.

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  “We’re almost home, Liam. We’ll talk then.”

  The road stretches for what seems like forever. My eyes focus on the painted lines in the middle of the interstate disappearing like candies on a conveyor belt. My head is in so many different places right now. I know from experience that the best way to stop feeling something is to stop thinking about it. I’m a master at compartmentalizing. I can put up walls like nobody’s business. That’s what I’m doing now, focusing on the sound of the tires on the asphalt, the feel of the leather-wrapped steering wheel, the way the sun shines through the windows and heats my skin, forcing my mind to be still. Liam doesn’t say anything else, and neither do I.

  When we finally make it home and walk in the living room, Jake has the boys gathered around the coffee table, and he’s showing them ridiculous card tricks. This grown man looks so childlike and at ease. He looks up at me and smiles over the cards fanned out across the table in front of him. He never asked me why I needed him to come sit with the boys. He just showed up. Somewhere deep inside Jake there’s a good man waiting to come out—somewhere way down deep.