He tells Zeke to pick a card, look at it, then lay it face-down on the table. I cross my arms and lean against the wall and watch in silence. Jake takes Zeke’s card and slips it back into the deck and shuffles. A moment later, he pulls out a card and shows it to the boys.
“Was this your card?”
Zeke’s eyes grow wide as he sucks in a gasp. He nods his head. “How did you do that?”
Jake stacks the cards and places them on the table then stands. “One day, I’ll teach you,” he says with a wink then meets me by the door.
“Thank you for sitting with them.”
“No problem.” He gets that look in his eyes, the one that reminds me that no matter how sweet he may appear, Jake Grimes is still very much a man-child. “You know—”
I hold my hand up to stop him right there. “If you’re about to say I owe you another favor, I’m going to put your balls on a barbecue.” I make sure to air quote the word favor.
He gives me a twisted grin. “Whatever it takes to get them in your mouth.”
I point to the door. “Go. Get out.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “I’m fucking with you, Addy. But seriously, you want to talk about why you called me here?”
Even Jake is smart enough to know I’d never call him for a favor unless I really, really needed it. I want to take him seriously because as far as friends go, Jake would be a good one. He keeps it light but isn’t afraid of the heavy. I can see why he and Brody are so close. That and the fact that they’re both obnoxious…
“Maybe some other time. I need to talk to Liam first.”
“Okay. If you need anything else, I’m two miles away. Remember that.”
After Jake is gone and I make sure the other boys are thoroughly preoccupied upstairs, I bring Liam to the living room and have him sit on the sofa.
I sit beside him, knees bent with my bare feet tucked into the crack between the cushions. “You had a visitor today.” I see the panic in his expression as he sucks in a breath. “Someone named Mal. Lovely guy.”
He swallows hard then sits up straight, turning his body to face me. “Miss M, I can explain.”
“Good. Because you’re going to. Starting now.”
He exhales. “Mal is my sister’s boyfriend—”
“Wait, you have a sister?” Where was this in his file? Kai never mentioned any siblings.
He nods. “Her name is Alex.” He shrugs one shoulder. “Well, Alexandra. But we call her Alex. My mom gave her up for adoption when she was a baby. A few years ago, she found us. It’s the main reason my parents fought so much. Alex has a different dad, and my dad didn’t want my mom having anything to do with her. I don’t know why. I just know he hated when my mom talked about it. So, she made me keep in touch with Alex. Keep tabs on her and report back. She said Dad didn’t want her having anything to do with my sister, but he wouldn’t care if I did. Alex started dating Mal about a year ago. He’s been after me to join his crew, but I always found reasons to blow him off. Then after my parents died, I knew Alex was the only family I had left. I had to find a way to make sure she wouldn’t leave me too.”
“So the fire, Mal told you to do it?”
He nods.
“Why?”
His shoulders slump, and he relaxes a little. “To prove my worth. To show him I wasn’t a pussy.”
I cut him a glare. “Language.”
His gaze falls to the ground. “Sorry.”
I reach for his hand and cover it with mine. “Liam, you have a family. We’re your family. Me, the boys, Brody, Haley…” I pause. “Blaze.”
I scoot closer to him in order to drape my arm around his shoulder. His eyes are bright green pools of confusion and chaos as he silently processes my words. I’ve been where he is. Family is a hard word to swallow when you feel like it’s you against the world, when you build up the walls, board up the windows and bolt the doors to keep anyone else from getting in.
“Your sister loves you. She’s been in your life all these years without you having to join some gang. She’s not going to leave you.” I squeeze his shoulder and hope my words find a place in his heart.
“I know… Or at least I try to believe that.” The first tear spills over his cheek, and my heart twists. Any moment now it will twist so tight it snaps in two. “But it’s too late. Last night was supposed to be my initiation, but I didn’t go. I thought if I just didn’t show up that Mal would get the hint.” He shivers against me, the way I shivered when I saw the devil himself standing at the front door.
Liam looks up at me. His face is pale. His lips are dry. This child is consumed by fear, and I want to rip that asshole’s throat out for it. It’s one thing to try to intimidate me, but when you mess with one of my boys, you’ve crossed the line.
“But he didn’t get the hint, Miss M. He came here. He isn’t going to leave it alone.” His eyes water then the tears spill freely. “What if he hurts my sister?” His body shakes with his sobs.
I pull him into my arms and smooth his hair with one hand while the other holds him close. “It’s okay. He’s not going to hurt anyone. I’ll make sure of it. For now, you need to stay inside. No basketball. No answering the door.” I wait a few seconds before I lean back and cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at me. “Understand?”
He nods, and I kiss him on the forehead. “Good. Now stay here, and I’ll be right back with some ice cream.”
Of course there was no way I was about to let Haley take her shift without having someone else at the house. Brody had a million and one questions, and Haley insisted she could handle her own, but after I told them both that it was either let Brody sleep on the sofa or I was calling Jake, they both agreed Brody should stay. We also all agreed that, given the circumstances, it’s best if I have a meeting with Kai first thing in the morning when I get to the office.
Ten minutes after I leave the house, I’m speeding down the interstate with a black Ford Mustang on my ass. I don’t even know how I got here. One minute, I was pulling out of the driveway at HoH, mind reeling at all the ways we could save Liam and his sister. I was driving through the neighborhood, replaying every crime show episode I’ve ever seen involving gangs. The next minute, this car—the car I watched Mal get into earlier—appeared at a four-way stop and started following me.
My heart kicks up, thrashing in my chest as I scramble to figure out where the hell to go from here. I can’t go back to the house. I’m damn sure not going home.
I press the gas, finally hitting ninety-five on the speedometer. I pass the first car, then the second. Then I take a steady breath and tighten my grip on the wheel. Don’t panic.
Fear is a reaction. Courage is a decision.
It’s another quote I put in my journal, one I’ve learned to live by, one I find myself repeating over and over in my head right now.
He weaves through traffic until he’s right behind me again. There’s no way I’m going to outrun him. I cut between two eighteen-wheelers, and one of them blows his horn at me. A few miles in front of me, I see nothing but brake lights. Traffic.
Shit.
Think, Adrienne.
The sheriff’s department. Yes! With any luck, one of the deputies that was there the night I picked up Liam will be on duty. Then I remember there’s no parking on the street. It’s after five o’clock. The parking garage attendant is off duty. I’ve seen enough movies to know an empty parking garage is a death trap for people like me. And by people like me, I mean anyone who isn’t Liam Neeson or Keanu Reeves… Or Batman.
I need somewhere public with a small parking lot.
Just off the next exit ramp, I spot a familiar black sign with pool sticks in the corner, and I know exactly what I have to do.
The Taproom distributes over seven-thousand barrels of beer every year. Over the last three years, Hector has been a fucking genius at increasing production capability. The business is his baby. The brewing is mine.
A large portion of our grain is grown an
d malted right here in North Carolina. I also only work with fruits and vegetables I can get locally in this region. I’m loyal, so my customers are loyal. The fire is a setback. Not having The Taproom open for on-premises sales isn’t going to make us go under. Even if it is depressing as hell.
Brewing beer is my job, watching people enjoy drinking it is my reward. I miss the shit out of that. I tell myself we’ll be up and running again soon enough. For now, I need to stay focused on what I do best.
“What do you think about using Torulaspora?”
Hector eyes me. “I think the production guys are gone, the contractor is gone, and it’s time for us to go too.”
“I’m serious.”
He quirks an eyebrow. I fucking hate when he does that. It means something sarcastic is about to come out of his mouth. “You want our beer to smell like apples?”
Since Torulaspora is a yeast derived from apple skins, I would say yes.
“Maybe. It would be different. We could lay down a few barrels and see how it goes.”
“Yeah. Okay. Let’s do it.” His eyes narrow. “Tell me you weren’t sitting here staring off into space thinking about beer.” He chuckles and shakes his head then pulls a piece of gum from the pack in his pocket. “Jesus, you need therapy. Or pussy.” He tips his head from side-to-side as if he’s weighing the options. “Probably pussy.”
He has no idea how right he is. My balls feel like they’re full of concrete.
“Can I ask you a hypothetical question?”
He opens the wrapper of a piece of Juicy Fruit and shoves the gum in his mouth. “Is it about the hypothetical brunette?”
“I said it’s hypothetical. It’s not about anyone.”
He laughs. “Well, if you’re asking if you should hypothetically fuck her, here’s my answer: If you don’t, I will.”
I grab him by the shirt and get in his face. “I can kick your ass, Hero, and you better not fucking forget it.”
Hector is every bit as much of an asshole as I am. The difference is, I’m usually more level-headed. Too bad I reacted before I figured out what the hell he was doing. He was baiting me. Fucker.
I unfist my hand from his shirt then back away. “Sorry.”
“And there’s your answer. You don’t get that worked up over anything except beer.”
He’s right, as usual, so I just reply with a grunt.
Hector claps my shoulder. “I think we both need a drink.” I look around the brewery like what the fuck do you think this is? “A drink with other people,” he adds.
Twenty minutes later, we’re pulling up at Shooters.
Inside the bar, the flat screens are all tuned into the game. A few guys in T-shirts and baseball caps are playing pool. There are a few people at tables.
And there’s Adrienne. She’s staring mindlessly up at the TV above the shelves of liquor, tracing her fingertip around the gold rim of her glass. Her hair is down, and her legs are crossed. The shorts she’s wearing don’t hide shit. That little crease where her muscle meets her thigh… fuck. She looks so good I actually groan when I see her. Fucking groan.
I turn to Hector. “Did you do this on purpose?”
“I wish I was that fucking good.” He runs his tongue over the top row of his teeth. “Looks like this one is all fate, my friend.” Then he claps my shoulder and leaves me standing there with my mouth open.
I slide onto the barstool beside her just as she’s downing the last of her beer. “Rough day at the office?”
Her eyes trace their way around my face. “You could say that.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
Wanna talk about why you rushed out of the brewery with Liam like his life depended on it? Wanna talk about what an asshole I am? Wanna talk about why you’re sitting alone in a sports bar downing Stella like it’s Kool-Aid?
She looks straight ahead. “Not really.”
I don’t push because I get it. Some shit you just want to keep to yourself. I raise my hand for Vince to bring me a beer. We don’t have to talk about it, but I’m not leaving without apologizing. “I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have reacted that way.” But this thing with my brother is like a cut that just won’t go away. It will keep bleeding and bleeding until one of us bleeds out.
Vince sets a bottle of beer on the bar in front of me, and Adrienne points to her empty glass. “One more, please.” She turns to me and smiles, and goddammit if it doesn’t make my heart ache. “Don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
This woman. This is the kind of woman that makes you want to be a better man.
“Can I get a mulligan?”
Her eyebrows lift, making her forehead crinkle. It’s the cutest shit ever. “A mulligan?”
“Yeah. A redo. Can we start today over?”
She grins, and it brightens her whole damn face. “I would love to start today over.”
Her words are like a gospel hymn on a Sunday morning. They’re my saving grace. Ever since she walked out of Hector’s office today, I’ve regretted every word I ever said to her about staying away. Adrienne was right about one thing. She isn’t weak. I see the way she handles the boys, the shit she deals with on a daily basis, the weight she bears on her shoulders. She’s one of the strongest women I’ve ever met. She’s not the weak one. I am.
Well, fuck that.
I wait for Vince to return with her beer before I pull her to the back where the dartboards are.
“This is your idea of starting over? By making me look like an idiot. I have never thrown a dart in my life.”
“A virgin, huh?”
A smile creeps across her face. “As pure as they come.”
The way she’s looking at me right now, no woman has ever looked at me this way. Ever. She’s looking at me like she wants me to own her, and I want to. God, I want to.
“Well then. By all means, let me be your first.” I pull three darts from their holder on the wall and hand her one. “I’ll even let you start.”
“So, I just throw it? That’s it?”
“Yep. You throw three. I throw three. If your dart misses, bounces off the board, or gets stuck in my dart, you don’t get any points.”
“Well that sounds easy enough.” She spreads her legs shoulder-width apart and focuses intently on the board in front of her. She straightens her shoulders and narrows her eyes, squaring up like she’s the motherfucking champion of darts.
Her first throw hits the board then bounces off. She growls. It’s like that scene in The Lion King when Simba is trying to intimidate the hyenas.
I fight back a laugh then slip around behind her. “Here. Maybe this will help.” I wrap my fingers around her forearm. Her skin is smooth, creamy like milk. I’ve never been a milk guy, but her skin makes my mouth water. “You want the dart at eye level.” She lifts her hand until it’s right beside her ear. “Yes, like that.”
I move forward, pressing my body to hers. Jesus, five more seconds of this, and she’ll feel my cock against her back. I already feel it straining against my zipper. I slide my hand down her arm, slowly, softly, pushing her elbow upward just a bit. Her scent lures me in. Before I know it, my face is against her neck. I’m talking in her ear, breathing in the smell of coconut. I take this moment to study the curve of her neck, the silkiness of her shoulder. I wrap my other arm around her waist and pull her even closer because I love the way she feels against me. I lose track of time, of place, of the whole fucking world when I’m touching her. New plan. Forget being careful. I’m planning on owning her, on devouring her, on making her scream until she’s hoarse. That’s the fucking plan.
“Lead in with your elbow.” I hear her breath, ragged like mine. “Tilt the tip upwards.” She does. “Not that much. Just a little.” She brings it down a hair. “Good girl. Now aim and throw.”
Adrienne breathes out a sharp exhale then aims the dart across the room, nailing the board for twenty points. She bounces on her toes. “I did it! Oh, I am so going to kick your ass.”
She walks over to the table and reaches for her beer, but something on the other side of the room catches her eye and she misses. The glass goes crashing to the floor, spilling gold liquid and shattering glass at her feet.
I bolt over to where she is and pull her to my chest. “Woah, babygirl, it’s okay. Are you all right? What happened?”
“I thought I lost him. I thought I got away. I took the exit. When he didn’t follow me here, I thought…” She trails off as she lifts her head and glances behind me.
I cradle her head in my hands and run my eyes over her face. “Lost who? Talk to me, Adrienne. Got away from who?”
A deep male voice answers from over my shoulder. “From me.”
He’s here.
Mal is here.
He had to have driven through every parking lot on Kings Street looking for my car. The minute I saw the Shooters sign off the exit, I came up with a plan. I moved over to the far left lane, making sure traffic in the other two lanes was thick but not too thick. Then, right as I approached the exit ramp, I flew across the interstate and took the out, knowing he’d be stuck in the stopped traffic a mile ahead. I came inside the bar because, one: I wanted to be with other people on the off chance he actually did find a way to the exit after I did, and two: I really needed a drink. I sat here for what felt like forever contemplating getting in my car and going home before he did find me, but the thought of being alone terrified me. Then Blaze showed up.
Now, I’m standing here staring into a pair of piercing brown eyes and wishing I’d have just run him off the road when I had the chance.
Blaze turns around at the sound of Mal’s voice and freezes. Their eyes meet, and for a long minute, silence stretches between us.
“Well, fuck me, if this isn’t the mother of all plot twists.” There’s a cruel edge in Mal’s voice as his mouth widens in a sadistic grin. “Hello, Blaze.”
Blaze: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World) Page 10