by Ryan Michele
With one last look at the bed, I leave, this time knowing deep inside I left something with her.
8
Cyrus
2 Months Later
I stare at the stick in my hand willing it with everything inside of me to change. Two little lines change my life forever.
And fuck, I don’t even know the father’s last name.
We were Bound by Chance.
Now, we’re Bound by Consequences…
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Blaze by Sapphire Knight
1
“Well?” Torch mutters once we both get situated on the barstools at the hole-in-the-wall bar. We’re close to the compound at a place that a previous ol’ lady owns. Her ol’ man died awhile back, and we drop in from time to time to check up on her and the business. Being a biker, loyalty, and family is everything. Not necessarily blood relations, but rather our MC family—the people we choose to have in our lives.
“What?” I groan and signal for a beer as Torch glares at anyone who even attempts a glance in his direction. A new bartender is working, and she’s a hot little piece of ass. She’s one of a few around here I haven’t had yet and wouldn’t mind getting my dick wet with.
“Do you have a plan with this female principal? We’ve discussed her a few times, and now you’ve got Viking and Odin both on your back about doing something with her.” Torch may be a moody fuck and Viking’s oldest friend, but he’s also a nosey bastard. Most wouldn’t know that insignificant fact about him, but being around him through the Widow Makers and now the Oath Keepers, well, I have his ass pegged. You don’t become the Death Dealer by being an idiot. He kills people and knows shit; it’s just what he does.
“You heard the brothers; they don’t give two shits what I do with her as long as I get her to heel.” My VP and Prez have both ordered me to take care of this feisty woman who's been giving the club brats issues at school. Personally, I’m used to being judged and treated differently being associated with the club. The kids, however, don’t deserve it. From what I’ve heard in church, this woman's a complete snot to anyone affiliated with the club—members included.
He snorts, his merciless gaze not believing I can make it happen. He runs his hand through his unruly hair and complains. “I’ve dealt with this bitch and believe me when I say she’s a cunt. You think this is going to be easy, but me an’ Nightmare know damn well she’s stubborn as hell with her nose so fucking high up in the air when it comes to the club that she’ll put your ass through the wringer.”
Flashing him a cocky grin, I take a swig of the ice-cold beer set in front of me before responding. “I’ll try to be nice, work some charm on her. Hell, maybe I’ll bring her some fucking flowers and let her know that if she needs anything at all, I’ll be more than obliged to offer a helping hand. Chicks can’t resist when I turn up the charm.”
“Not going to work.” He shakes his head and requests a double American Honey, chilled. It’s Wild Turkey with a hint of sweetness. Torch drums his fingers on the bar top as he speaks. “She’s going to look down that sharp nose of hers and flick you off like a motherfucking flea. You don’t believe me, but you’ll see.”
With a shrug, I wave his comment off. “Then I’ll knock the bitch out and kidnap her. The choice is really up to her. I’ll put the ball in her court and let her actions decide on how I treat her.”
His hand goes to his forehead, his fingers massaging his temples as he swears under his breath. Torch rarely shows emotion to anyone other than our MC brothers, and even then, it’s only to those of us who used to be Widow Makers alongside him. He’s learned the hard way not to trust, so I can’t blame him for being the cold fucker he is today. “You’ll end up in jail. She’s the type to press charges, and being a biker, she won’t hesitate to take your ass to court. Tread easy with this one, a quick in and out,” he warns, and it’s my turn to scoff.
“I’m gonna mow that bitch over before she has a clue as to what’s happened. I’m coming from left field, unannounced and unexpected. She’s not used to real men, for that I’m certain. It’s about time that she learns alphas aren’t the motherfucking enemy. We’re here to protect and provide for our women, not hurt them or oppress them.”
Torch nods, taking a hefty swig of the smooth amber whiskey and leaves the subject to rest. As he sets his tumbler on the bar, I catch his daughter’s birthday he has tattooed along his wrist. I’d asked about it when he’d had the tattoo done; I was curious why he chose that particular spot. He’d said it’s a reminder, set in an area he’ll see every time he makes a kill. He wants to remember the day she was born and why he eventually chose to become an Oath Keeper. He’d made the change for her—to offer her a chance at an easier life and to become a better man for her. I respect him a lot for it too; it’s easy to be selfish. Doing the right thing at times can be much more difficult.
The cute bartender comes to a stop in front of me again, tipping her redhead toward the bottle sitting in front of me. “Can I get you anything else, Blaze?”
I meet her hazel gaze, taking in her overly mascaraed lashes and button nose. She blushes as I murmur, “Anything?” I flash her a grin that women always seem to fall for.
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and smiles, clarifying, “Anything else to drink?”
“Darlin’, you wound me. You offer me anything and then go and pull the panties right out of my reach.”
She giggles at my flirting and Torch groans. He’s heard me say the same thing to every new bartender we come across. Why change it, if it works? Women seem to love my personality and easy smile, and when they catch a glimpse of my abs, they love me even more.
“Come on, Mr. Fucking Casanova; my little girl’s about to get out of school, and it’s the perfect time for you to meet this stick-up-her-ass principal.”
Another thing I respect about Torch, he hardly drinks in case his daughter needs him. It has to be difficult living the life we’ve chosen, doing the deeds we’re sometimes forced to do and not being buzzed through any of it. There are plenty of nights I’ve begun with dancing on the bar and then wake up the next day not remembering shit. I like to party; what can I say.
“Fine,” I huff, suddenly not looking forward to the impending fight that’s sure to come. I spare one last grin toward the cute bartender as she slides a piece of paper next to my beer and then moves on to help the next customer. With a glance at it, I can’t help but chuckle and send her a wink. It’s her number along with ‘ANYTHING’ written and underlined. She has no idea what she’s signing up for, but I like it.
“Ridiculous,” Torch drones, watching me stuff the number in my jeans pocket as we leave the bar and hop on our bikes. He could have pussy anytime he wanted if he learned to crack a smile here and there. He’d rather brood and slit throats than fuck a harem of willing chicks; personally, I prefer getting my dick wet.
An easy fifteen-minute ride later and we’re pulling up at the school. The parking lot’s littered with various cages as parents line up to load in their kids. I could drive a truck once in a while, but driving those damn vans or other cages would make me crazy. We walk our bikes back into a spot, parking next to each other. Torch likes to get off and head up to the building to get his daughter. He always wants the few minutes to ask about her day before the ride home where the pipes drown out her soft-spoken voice. I feel for the day she finally brings a boy home to meet him. Her daddy will put some sort of fear in the kid if he doesn’t decide to just filet him on the spot.
He garners my attention, muttering, “She’s the uptight one over there.” He chin-lifts toward the right, and my gaze easily follows, used to his direction.
The woman’s exactly as I was expecting. Her hair’s up, twisted in some sort of fancy wrap style. It reminds
me of when rich bitches get dressed up for dinner in movies or whatever. Her backs held ramrod straight, with a small ass encased in an expensive pants suit. She turns around, offering me a glimpse of that perfectly straight nose Torch had previously commented on, and I draw in a stunned breath.
She’s so goddamn beautiful it makes my chest ache. It’s kind of like biting into a freshly-baked, flaky, golden-crusted cherry pie, only to discover it has far too much sugar. Cherry pie is supposed to be a bit sweet but also have a hint of tartness. This bitch is a full-on toothache just waiting to happen. I can already tell she’s going to be a bittersweet mistake of mine in some type of way.
My steps falter, as my confidence is unexpectedly a bit shaken. I was expecting her to be a plain Jane run-of-the-mill woman. I knew she’d have the legendary stick up her ass, but after witnessing her beauty, well, it puts this on an entirely different level. I’d planned to swoop in and spread a touch of the Blaze charm onto her unsuspecting ass. But, now I know that won’t work. I’m sure she’s been hit on since she was sixteen years old if I had to guess.
If I go in there with flowers and flirting, she’ll chew me up and spit me out. I’m guessing someone fucked her up when she was younger to make her so uptight. If I’d been around, I’d blame myself. My sixteen- and seventeen-year-old self broke hearts left and right back then. I was a cocky asshole. However, I was in the Carolinas back then, so it wasn’t me. I’d damn sure like to come across the idiot that did her in though; he’s the dipshit that’s to blame for making this job hard on me.
“Don’t think I should talk to her today,” I admit with a mumble to Torch’s back. He throws a glance my way and shrugs, keeping his stride toward his kid. As soon as his sweet girl sees us, she sprints in our direction.
She plows into Torch, enveloping him in a fierce hug and rambles excitedly, “Dad! I missed you today, and you brought Blaze? So cool!”
“I missed you too, angel.” He holds her, pressed to his stomach as she doesn’t quite hit his chest yet.
“Hey, pumpkin!” I beam a bright smile at her excited grin.
We’re interrupted by a proper sounding. “Young lady! Excuse me, you can’t run across the pick-up lane like that!” The principal comes to stand in front of us, and I find myself swallowing as I take her in from head to toe. She’s fine as hell and more so up close.
“Excuse me, Mr....” She huffs at my brother not appearing intimidated in the slightest.
“Torch,” he growls, and she rolls her eyes. I’ve seen people literally shake when pegged with his glare, but not her. This is going to be interesting watching her around the MC brothers; that’s for certain.
“Right. I had forgotten that we’d gotten into a previous disagreement at our last meeting about legal names. Mr...Torch, your daughter can’t run through traffic,” she explains exasperated. “She could get injured or worse, be hit by a moving vehicle.”
And if someone was stupid enough to hurt a hair on her head, they’d be dead. My brother would make sure of it. I have no doubt.
His brow does this tiny irritated twitch. “No one was moving. Your yuppie over there has the stop sign held up to those cages in line,” Torch supplies and I find myself grinning. He rarely speaks so politely to anyone, and witnessing him on his best behavior is amusing.
“Regardless,” she shakes her head, “it’s unacceptable.”
Torch growls, murder overtaking his menacing stare, and I can’t hold back my laugh any longer. At my interruption, the woman trains her piercing gaze on me, watching as I flick my irises over her again. Her cheeks heat at my obvious attention, and her temper spikes.
“Do you find this amusing Mr.-mr....”
“Blaze,” I reply, flashing a devious grin, dimples on full display as I saunter a step closer. Invading her personal space throws her off-kilter enough that Torch and his daughter take off for his bike. “Or...big daddy, Mr. sexy-as-fuck, hot stuff, abs of steel...any of those would work just fine, sugar.” An average woman would smile, even giggle or reach out to touch my flexed bicep. I’m peacocking like a motherfucker, and it doesn’t even phase this lady one bit.
Rather than giving in, she steps even closer, to the point that my steel-toed -boots and the tips of her fancy heels are touching. The top of her head barely reaches my chin, but she’s got such big lady balls, it feels as if she’s staring eye to eye with me. If she were taller, our noses would be brushing no doubt. “Mr. Blaze.” Her voice hardens, lacing with unrelenting smugness. “I don’t believe you have a student enrolled here; therefore, you’re trespassing. Shall I call school security to escort you to the property line?” Her head tilts to the side, basically mocking, believing she has the upper hand.
My grin turns lethal, my irises shining with challenge. “Only if you want to witness me break rent-a-cop’s hands in front of all these innocent children. I came to greet my niece with her father, but they’ve gone, so I’ll go for now.”
“Until you’re on her contact card for approved visitors, it’d be in your best interest to remain off school property. It’s my duty to keep these children safe.”
Leaning down, my nose nearly grazes hers; I get close enough to show her she doesn’t intimidate me in the slightest. “I’d be happy to contact my friend, the sheriff, if you’re ever concerned about their safety.” Standing back up to my full height, I send her a parting wink and stride to my bike.
Torch and his daughter are waiting on me before they leave, his engine already idling. His eyebrow rises in a silent question, but I shake my head and climb on, starting my motorcycle up with a loud rumble. I rev it a few times, knowing the principal is staring her fill. She’ll be touching herself later as she remembers the sound and thinks back to all the things she could’ve said, but didn’t. I don’t doubt that for one minute.
2
Church
“Brothers,” Viking, our club prez looks around the table at each of us. “We’ve spoken about the heroin coming in over the border. I have an update from the Nomads. They’re in place and keeping watch at the time until we’re ready to bring some heat on the cartel. Right now, we gotta focus on breaking in these new prospects and getting the other clubs on board as backup.”
Nightmare sits forward, the subject instantly infuriating him. “I’m ready to ride any fucking time of the day or night. Already told my ol’ lady to prepare for it. We should be with the Nomads, not breaking in a bunch of yellow-bellied fucks.”
It takes everything in me not to burst out with a chuckle. This is serious, and it’ll piss off my cousin and Nightmare if I laugh. I’ve always used humor to deal with shit though. I only got dubbed “Blaze” from smoking my share of weed when I was younger and getting the flames tatted on my arms. Besides, “giggles” isn’t a hardcore biker name, and my uncle’s Widow Makers MC wasn’t a place for pussies. The Oath Keepers MC isn’t either, but shit isn’t quite as twisted in this MC as it was in the former.
“I’m ready too, Night, but we’re sticking to the plan. Speaking of,” Prez turns to me, “you get shit sorted out yet with the school?”
“I spoke to her,” I share, not keen to tell him how it went. The brothers will be all too happy to find out that I’ve met a woman who’s not easily bending to my charms.
His brow rises, impatiently waiting for details. The man’s face is like a slab of granite, fierce in every expression. I’ve had to face his anger in the past, and it wasn’t fun. Thought I’d die that day. It works to his advantage; fewer people will fuck with an MC if the prez looks like he’ll pop off your head with his bare hands and not flinch.
Exhaling, I meet his stare and confess, “She threatened to have me removed from school property. I need Torch to add me to his daughter’s approved visitors list.”
Torch and Nightmare huff; both having previous run-ins with the woman, while the other brothers either smirk or outright chuckle. The dirty bunch of bastards.
I’ve got Odin, my cousin, who’s Viking’s younger brother and our V
P beside me, then sits Viking, who’s my other cousin and Prez. After Prez is Torch, the club’s death dealer and finally, Nightmare, an original member and one of Viking’s closest friends. This end of the thick slab of oak is full of grouchy, broody fuckers, unlike the other half. The opposite side of the table seats Sinner and Saint the club’s hell raisers; Chaos, Smokey the club treasurer, and lastly, Mercenary, our newest patched transfer from the Chicago charter up north.
Thankfully, the prospects aren’t allowed in church—only the club officers or we’d really be packed in. It’s hard enough to breathe in this room with everyone smoking weed or puffing on cigarettes that when we have visiting members, half are forced to stand against the walls. When Viking built this place, I don’t think he was anticipating having one of the largest active charters in the Oath Keepers MC. If we keep growing like we have been, he may need to think of expanding the compound. We could move church into the bar, use this room for storage or something, and then build on a new, bigger bar for everyone to use.
Mercenary speaks up, his deep throaty rasp commanding attention. “Why don’t we just have this chick replaced if she keeps causing this much shit at the school? It seems smart to me that we introduce more of our own into the fold around the compound. You’ve got Scot’s ol’ lady with the bar down the road; it’s convenient to have her keeping a look out for any incoming. My ol’ lady owns the local track and can store shit for us when needed.” He gestures off to the side in the general direction of his wife’s business. We all stare, waiting to hear where he’s going with this. It seems like a good idea if it’s feasible.
Glancing around, Mercenary continues. “The Oath Keepers has a doc on payroll inside the clinic, besides 2 Piece putting in his free time patching us up. Spin’s got that tattoo shop which connects him to a lot of the younger people around here as well as the seasoned birds. Twist does all that bodywork and painting with Spin whenever a local has a custom car or bike. You’ve got Princess and Avery who help out by taking care of the compounds and the club sluts when needed. Odin’s ol’ lady does all that baking for the farmer’s market downtown, which people can’t seem to buy quick enough...why not branch out farther and have someone at the school too? If you think about it, the more we’re integrated into the community, the more they accept us.”
