Ignite

by Bliss, Chelle

  Ignite

  Chelle Bliss

  Ignite Copyright © 2020

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

  All Rights Reserved No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic format without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Publisher © Chelle Bliss October 13th 2020

  Edited by Lisa A. Hollett

  Proofread by Read By Rose & Deaton Author Services

  Cover Design © Chelle Bliss

  Cover Photo/Model © Kevin Creekman

  Contents

  Letter to my readers

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Spark Sneak Peek

  About the Author

  Want more Men of Inked?

  Gallo Family Tree

  To my Cousin Cathy,

  Thank you for keeping me sane the last four years. At least as much as any person can keep someone from losing my mind. You’ve been there through the hard times, good times, and when I was extra needy…which has been often.

  You were my moonlight in the darkest nights.

  I am forever in your debt for your love, support, and kindness.

  Love Always,

  Chelle

  Dear Gallo Family,

  I typed the first few words of Ignite in late February, but then the world fell apart. I’d like to say I kept my sanity, but I didn’t.

  I tried to write. I tried to keep my happy going, but that’s hella hard when there seemed to be no good news on the horizon.

  Over the next few months, I wrote chapters and rewrote chapters, and none of them were worthy of being published.

  I’ve struggled for years with anxiety after the death of my brother and father, and I had finally gotten to the point where I felt I had it under control. Then the ’Rona hit, and my anxiety came roaring back and uglier than before.

  For years, I’ve spent my summers in Ohio with my family, but this year that wasn’t possible. Everything in my life had changed, just like yours and everyone else’s in the world too.

  I pushed myself, forcing myself to write when I could, but again, I was writing nothing but trash, and none of the words made sense. It was like someone had snatched my brain right out of my head, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find the right words.

  Ignite isn’t as angsty as my other books. My heart needed something sweet. I wanted to make you smile at a time when smiling doesn’t come as easy as it did this time last year.

  I hope the words in this book bring you as much joy as they did for me as I wrote them. I tried my best to give you a great story or as much of one as I could during this crazy-ass time.

  But don’t worry. We’ll get through this. Life will go on and will go back to normal eventually.

  It took me a while to realize this, though. I sat for a good two months, almost paralyzed in shock. You probably felt the same at times, and I hope you’ve found your way back to whatever sanity you can cling to.

  Wherever you are in the world, I hope you and your family are safe and healthy and remain that way in the coming months and years.

  I’ll do my best to bring you more Gallos, filled with love and happiness. We could all use a little more of that in our lives.

  Enjoy more Mammoth and Tamara, but don’t worry, Ignite isn’t the last story in the Gallo family saga.

  Spark is next, and I’m going to knock your socks off with Nick—because I’m back, baby. Don’t forget to check out the chapter one sneak peek of Spark in the very back.

  Love Always,

  Prologue

  Mammoth

  “Princess.”

  “Don’t you princess me, buddy. What the hell is going on?” There’s no missing her anger in her tone, which is dripping with attitude.

  I lean against the handlebars of my bike, one hand against my ear, holding the phone, and the other one hanging freely. “Club business. Can’t talk about it. You know the rules.”

  Her breathing is heavy on the other end of the line. She’s silent for a moment, but it doesn’t last long before she lays into me. “Club business is always so convenient, but let me tell you something…”

  “Fuck,” I mutter. I raise my face toward the sky, letting the sunshine give me warmth from her icy words.

  “When you call my family, asking them to come help you, that makes it my business. So, don’t you go telling me it’s club business and you can’t tell me anything. Pike and Jett are headed your way, and I want to know why.”

  “Nothing has happened. I’m near them, by myself, and my bike decided to take a shit on me. It’s as simple as that.”

  “By yourself?” she screeches, making me wince at the shrillness in her voice. “Wait. Hold up.”

  So, I do that.

  I wait.

  I hold up, staying silent.

  “Answer me,” she says.

  “You told me to wait,” I grit out, being a smartass and already over this conversation.

  “Men are impossible,” she groans. “Are you seriously by yourself?” I’m pretty damn sure if she could, she’d reach through the phone and strangle me. There’s no ounce of cute left in her at this moment, only anger.

  “I am.”

  “Why would Morris and Tiny do that? You don’t go anywhere alone, Mammoth. Nowhere.” She draws out the last word, almost yelling it directly in my ear.

  “I know that, but it was supposed to be a quick and simple job. Between my bike acting up and not being in Disciples’ territory, I decided to make the call.”

  “You made the call, but didn’t bother to call me?”

  I grunt a response back without adding any words. There’s nothing more to be said.

  I knew what her response would be.

  I knew she’d freak out and lay into me, which is what she’s doing, even though I didn’t make the call to her.

  Fucking Gigi and Lily and their inability to keep information to themselves like all Gallo chicks. They have allegiance to one another, and nothing or no one can change that.

  “I’m going to call Morris and—” she starts.

  “No, Tamara. You will not. You keep your mouth shut. It’s none of your business.”

  “Excuse me?” she whispers. “Keep my mouth shut?”

  As if I don’t have enough shit on my plate, a pissed-off Tamara Gallo isn’t something I want added as a side dish. “Women don’t get involved. I’ve told you that a hundred times. I don’t need you calling Morris to tell him off for doing something you don’t like. This is what I signed up for when I joined, Tam. I do as I’m told, and if you want me to ever get out of this life, you need to sit back, be quiet, and let me do what I have to do and do as you’re told too.”

  “I don’t like it,” she grits out, probably thinking of every way she’s going to torture me for laying
down the law the way I just did.

  “Neither do I, but I got to do what I got to do. Now, when the guys get here, I’ll throw my bike in the back of the pickup, head back with them, and worry about this shit tomorrow.”

  “Where are you waiting?” she asks, still whispering.

  I’m not fooled by the softness in her voice. I know she’s pissed. I told her to keep her mouth shut, and that was a slap in the face. I could’ve said it nicer, explained things in a less harsh way, but Tamara never wants to listen when it comes to the club.

  “A parking lot.” I leave out the simple fact that it’s a parking lot at a strip club. Tamara would have another fit and one I don’t want to hear right now.

  “Don’t leave without them.”

  “Again, not moving until they’re here, babe. I don’t think my bike would make it another mile anyway. Anything else?”

  “I’m mad at you,” she admits like it’s a revelation, but at least this time, her voice is more forceful.

  “Really? I couldn’t tell from all the attitude you’re throwing my way.”

  “Don’t be cute,” she sasses, but I totally smile, loving when she tries to talk like me.

  “You’re the cute one, princess,” I say, flirting with my girl.

  Even if she’s a pain in the ass, she’s still my pain in the ass.

  “There’s no sweet-talking me, Saint,” she tells me just as Gigi’s pickup, with Pike and Jett inside, pulls into the parking lot.

  “Gotta go. Guys are here. I’ll be at your place in about an hour. I love you.”

  “Love you too,” she mumbles. “Be careful.”

  “Always, princess. Always,” I tell her before pressing end, happy as hell the conversation is over.

  The guys are twenty feet away, waiting for a drunk guy who can barely stand upright to make his way to his car. My gaze moves from their pickup to the back of the strip club as the door swings open.

  A very busty redhead in nothing more than a G-string and pasties emerges from the doorway.

  But she’s not alone.

  There’s a man behind her, pushing her to the ground as he lifts his arm. The sunshine glints off something metal in his hand, almost blinding me.

  But before I have a chance to move, he fires at me.

  1

  Tamara

  “Morris, what the fuck were you thinking?” I tap my foot, staring down at Mammoth as he lies in my bed, passed out and loaded up with painkillers.

  It’s been three days since Mammoth was released from the hospital after they dug the bullet out of his shoulder. I haven’t talked to Morris since it happened, and I’ve made sure Mammoth hasn’t talked to him either.

  “It was supposed to be simple,” Morris tells me on the other end of the phone, lucky he isn’t in front of me because someone would have to pull me off him.

  “Sure,” I snap, unable to hold back. “Just send him across the state alone and straight into enemy territory. I may not be in the club, but I’m not stupid. You don’t do that. I don’t care if you’re sending him to fuckin’ Disney World for a drop, he has a brother at his side.”

  “Babe,” Morris clips out, “I know you think you know…”

  “Oh, I do know.” I interrupt the bullshit he’s about to shovel as I pace at the foot of the bed, clenching my hand into a tight fist to control the rage that’s been brewing inside me for days.

  I promised Mammoth I wouldn’t call Morris.

  I promised Mammoth I’d keep my mouth shut.

  He pleaded with me to leave shit alone and that he’d handle it once he was able to, which will be when I let him out of my sight long enough to go back to the compound.

  But I’ve had enough.

  It may not be my place to speak to Morris, but I have never been good at listening or following the rules.

  Badass MC or not, I’m not remaining silent and taking a back seat, no matter how many times I promise my man I will.

  “We do things by ourselves all the time. What the hell do you think I run? This ain’t the fuckin’ Boy Scouts,” he growls.

  “Uh, Morris, I know you aren’t the fuckin’ Boy Scouts. I may not have grown up in the life, but I know enough that you do not send a brother out there alone. Not for something like he was doing.”

  “What was he doing?” Morris asks, putting me on the spot again.

  Fucker.

  He knows damn well I have no freaking clue.

  Mammoth is always tight-lipped when it comes to the club and has remained so, no matter how much I bug him to confide in me.

  My gaze flickers to Mammoth as I answer. “You know what he was doing.”

  “Refresh my memory. I’m old.”

  I growl, cursing under my breath. “You’re not old. Stop with the bullshit. Admit your mistake and promise me it’ll never happen again.”

  “Babe.”

  I stop walking, staring at the wall in front of me. “Morris.”

  “Come on,” he says playfully.

  “Say it,” I demand.

  He sighs. “I can’t control everything.”

  “He. Was. Alone.”

  “Again, not unusual.”

  “He was shot, for fuck’s sake.”

  “Happens sometimes,” he mutters.

  I pull the phone away from my cheek, gawking at the screen like I can somehow see his face and he can see mine. “It happens sometimes?” I whisper, filled with rage.

  “Yup,” he quips.

  “It happens sometimes?” I whisper again, but this time slower because I can’t believe his answer.

  “I didn’t send him to that titty bar. He was there for reasons outside of my control. So again, shit happens.”

  I dig my fingertips into the corners of my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, trying like hell to hold in my anger. “Such an asshole,” I mumble, frustrated.

  “Listen, kid. Is he okay?”

  “He’s sleeping,” I say softly as I glance again at his naked body strewn across my bed with the sheet pulled up to his waist.

  “So, he’s alive?” he asks me again.

  “You already know he is.”

  “If he’s okay and alive, then why the hell are you busting my balls about shit that’s in the past?”

  “I don’t want that shit to bleed into our lives, to follow him into our future. I also don’t want the same shit to happen again because you send my man out there alone when he should’ve had a brother at his side.”

  “Noted,” he says, and I think I finally have victory, but then he continues. “But he would still be lying in your bed with a hole in his shoulder. Maybe instead of just him being shot, one of the other guys would be too—or even worse, they’d be dead instead of still breathing like your man.”

  I sober, thinking about Eagle, Ginger, or any of the other guys lying on the pavement with a bullet in their head.

  I wrinkle my nose, immediately feeling ill. “You know I wouldn’t want that.”

  “Then we’re on the same page.”

  I blink and look away from Mammoth as he starts to stir, turning my back and lowering my voice. “Not entirely.”

  “I listened to every word you said, but I can’t control everything in the world, no matter how much you think I can.”

  “I know. Trust me, I know you’re not God.”

  “Nothing to do with God, babe. I’m sorry about Mammoth. Really, I am. You know how much he means to me and the rest of the club. The last thing I wanted or expected was for him to get hurt. Enemies are coming out of the woodwork. No one will be leaving the clubhouse to go on runs or anything else without another person at their side. It’s already been decided.”

  “Then why are you giving me such a hard time?”

  He laughs. “Babe.”

  I stay silent and grind my teeth together.

  “Listen,” he says, like I’m not listening and haven’t been for the last five minutes.

  “I’m listening,” I snarl.

  “You’re th
e one calling me, busting my chops. Placing blame where there’s no blame to be placed. Shit got fucked up, but your man is alive. Why don’t you be a good woman and take care of him instead of calling me, chewing my ear off about shit I can’t change?”

  I open my mouth and then snap it shut as the bed creaks behind me.

  “Princess,” Mammoth whispers, and I freeze.

  I slowly peer over my shoulder, dropping my hand to my side, trying to hide the phone, and smile. “Hey, baby.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Mammoth stretches, and every muscle in his body flexes underneath his ink-stained skin. He winces when he moves his arm, and the reality of the gunshot slams back into him.

  “No one,” I whisper, staying where I am. “Go back to sleep.”

  “Put the phone down,” he says, patting the bed, eyes flickering between my hand and my face. “I need my woman.”

  “You’re hurt,” I tell him as Morris chirps in the background at a low rumble.

  Please don’t hear Morris’s voice.

  Please don’t hear Morris’s voice.

  “End the call, Tamara,” Mammoth demands, his eyes sliding to my leg where the phone is pressed to muffle Morris’s slew of curse words. “Now.”

  Shit.

  He heard Morris’s voice.

  He doesn’t have to say it; I can tell by the icy look in his gray eyes.

  “Grumpy,” I mumble under my breath as I lift the phone and see a blank screen. I hold out my hand, showing Mammoth the screen, still digging in my heels about the phone call. “See. No one’s there.” Somehow, I say those words with a smile.