Pyro's Final Flame : Twisted Iron MC

by Liberty Parker

  “They killed Momma and Daddy. Why? I need them!” she screams out the last part through watery eyes and her body begins to tremble and Stitches looks over at me in confusion. I don’t know what to tell him because I’m just as stumped as he is. As far as we are aware and know; her father is alive and kicking back in Cali. From my understanding, her mother passed long ago, but nothing of the violent sort. Nothing like what she’s saying now.

  “Kolton’s got a lot to answer for,” Stitches states, drawing the liquid into the needle.

  “You got that right,” I concur, drawing my anger inside of myself. I don’t want her to feel any of that right now. She needs compassion and love, not anger and fear. “Shara, we’re gonna give you something to help you relax, okay?” She begins shaking her head. “It won’t hurt, I promise.”

  “Hurt? It all hurts,” she informs me as Stitches makes his way closer to us. Quickly as I can without startling her any further, I grab her up in my arms and wrap them firmly around her. He’s quick about giving her the shot, and as fast as he plunges it into her, her body goes limp as she passes out in my arms.

  “I’ll come back in a couple of hours and check on her. She should sleep like the dead for at least eight hours, give or take.” He walks over and places the needle into some orange plastic container before putting it back into his bag. “Hopefully, she won’t need another one of these.”

  “I have a few phone calls to make. Will she be alright in here alone while I do?”

  “Pyro, she won’t notice if you’re in the same room as her or not. My guess, you won’t see her eyes open until midday tomorrow. She has a lot of emotional trauma to overcome. Her body will shut down for a bit while her mind recovers.” Stitches continues to reassure me as he checks to make sure he’s recovered and packed up any items he removed and used from his bag.

  “So, is that a yes?” I need him to say the words to me so I can keep my mind on the other tasks I need to complete.

  “That’s a yes, Pyro,” he chuckles. “She’ll be fine, just check on her every hour or so until you go to bed for the night.”

  “I can do that,” I explicitly state. My first call will be to Rogue. My second will be to Kolton, whereas I’ll demand he come here immediately. My woman’s in a fragile state right now, she needs family surrounding her… and questions of her past answered. My intuition is screaming at me that not everything in her past is as it seems; now more so than ever. Something dark and devastating is lurking and looming in the back of her subconsciousness. I plan on discovering what it is so that I can help her not to allow it to overshadow her life. And whoever it is in her dreams that has killed her folks… that person will meet his maker if it turns out this is reality and not some dream.

  Rogue decided it would be best if he were to call Kolton and demand he come to Texas. With my worry for Shara, and the state of mind I’m in; I begrudgingly gave in and let him take the reins on this one. Before calling it a night, I remove all evidence of tonight’s punishment. I don’t want it to set her off again once she finally wakes up. Crawling into bed with my woman, I bring her body close to mine. This isn’t solely for her benefit; I need to feel her nestled securely into my embrace. I close my eyes to try and get some sleep myself; but every time I do, her words play out like an endless loop I can’t get away from.

  I doze more than get any actual sleep as the night dawns into a new day. I’m desperately in need of a shower, since yesterday was a long dreary day. I check on Shara beforehand and am relieved that she’s still peacefully sleeping. Showering does nothing to relieve the aches and pains sitting on my chest, but it does make me feel refreshed and ready to face the day head on. Rogue is aware that I won’t be in today, he’s agreed to check in periodically and update me on anything new that could pop up. In the lifestyle I live, you never know from one day to the next what your day will be like. Since I have no messages, I begin to brew my cup of coffee. I’ll need it black and strong today. Heading out to the back porch, I sit down on my swing and put my feet up on the railing. Grabbing a smoke and my lighter from the table next to me, I inhale the nicotine. I feel it surging through me and let out a deep breath. My stomach is in knots, I haven’t felt this way since my parents were murdered. Is it possible that we have this in common and didn’t know? I hope not, I pray that something else happened and her mind has scrambled it around.

  Losing my parents, so violently and viciously, has left a mark on my soul. Every person I torture and kill are the men who stole my life away from me, or somehow tied to that devastating part of my past; at least that’s how it plays out in my mind as I justify ending their lives. They are my retribution for those I was unable to get my hands on. I was young, too young to claim vengeance on their behalf. The club took care of their murderers for me before I was old enough to know how to handle a pistol. My leg begins to uncontrollably shake as those memories surface to the forefront of my mind. I’ve worked hard to not live that day in and day out. We had a traitor amongst us, a rat that was entrusted with club accounts, and activities. He knew the in’s and out’s of our daily operation. It’s how he was able to get the jump on us. He too, is no longer amongst the living. I wish I’d been the one to take him out, I had a part in it, but didn’t get that final blow that caused his life to succumb to death.

  Feeling heat at my fingers, I look down and realize that I allowed my cigarette to burn while I was here reliving my own tragic past. Reaching over, I smash it out in the ashtray and light up another one. This time, I inhale every square inch of it as I do everything within my power to shake away the nightmare that is my life. I hear the back door open and look over to notice Shara walking out; a cup of coffee in her own hand as she sits next to me and curls into my body, seeking my warmth. “How are you feeling?” I hesitantly ask her, not wanting to cause her any discomfort. But we need to talk, and I’d rather do it sooner than later. While everything is still fresh in her mind. Her eyes are puffy underneath from carrying all of the emotional and mental weight of last night. I almost fear bringing the subject back up, but it has to be done. Hopefully, she’s the one to pick this conversation back up.

  9

  Shara

  “I somewhat remember what happened last night; but there are some blank spots in my memory.” When I say this in answer to his question, his arms tighten around me. Leaning my head on his chest, I reach out my hand for his lit cigarette. I don’t imbibe in smoking much, but I need to feel the burn in my throat and lungs.

  “Tell me what you do remember?” he soft-spokenly asks of me as he begins to stroke the top of my head, eventually tucking a stray piece behind my ear. “There’s a puzzle we need to resolve. A lot of questions we need answers for. In order to do so, we need to go over what you do recollect.” His voice is a bit shaky and I can hear the trepidation behind his inquiries. As strange and unexpected as this is for me, the effect this has had on my man is palpable.

  “I know this sounds crazy, but I think my parents were murdered, DP. I’m not even sure my father is my biological dad anymore.” It pains me to admit this fact out loud. My only childhood memories stem from him being there; kissing my scrapes and doctoring my many scratches, to staying up nights with me when I was sick; all the things fathers do for their little girls. It makes no sense how he could love me and take care of me the way he has, if I’m not his daughter. It all seems so outlandish, especially considering that I even have some of his features, mainly his eyes.

  “What makes you say that? Tell me what causes you to believe it, Shara. There has to be a reason. We need to figure out if they’re true memories, or something that happened in childhood to cause you to mix some things up.” His tone beckons answers from me while also coveting sympathy for the possibility this is factual.

  “Everything played out like flashes in my head.” I draw my finger up, pointing to my temple. “I remember being placed inside of a closet. Bound, then eventually gagged. I watched as a man who I recalled as my dad being shot in the head a
nd my mother screaming out retribution. Something having to do with clubs and betrayal. It’s all still really fuzzy, DP.”

  “We need to get your dad here to fill in the missing blanks. Something’s off, Shara. A memory like that doesn’t just surface out of the blue causing you to have a panic attack the way you did.” His arm around me tightens before loosening its grip on me. I can tell his lighter demeanor is beginning to turn anxious with a need for answers.

  “It all happened so fast once my second wrist was tied up. I don’t know why I reacted the way I did when you were tying me up. I trust you explicitly. So, it makes no sense for me to react the way I did. Granted, I wasn’t necessarily thrilled to endure a long night of punishment, but I knew I’d also receive some enjoyment.” Raising my head up and away from his chest, I take a sip of my warm, dark, brew.

  “If what you’re remembering is true, it makes perfect sense. Think about it, little savage. We haven’t had any sort of bondage play before; it pulled a dark secret from your subconscious mind.” He leans to the side, looking straight at me. “It’s honestly not too far-fetched… unfortunately.”

  “I guess we’ll never fully understand until Dad fills us in,” I say before releasing a sigh. “Should I call him?”

  “No. Rogue has already summoned him. He should be here sometime today.”

  “What?” I shout, “Rogue knows? How embarrassing, Asher.” I don’t like showing weakness to anyone, especially not the club. Being considered weak and feeble is not how I want to be viewed. I’ve never done well with being pitied for anything, let alone for not being in control of my mind and body.

  “I had to tell him, Shara. What if your past comes to the club? As the president, Rogue needs to be informed. He won’t share anything with the brothers unless it comes down to protecting the club and our families. I promise you.”

  “Was Stitches here last night?” For some reason, his face keeps flashing at me, too.

  “Yes, he gave you a mild sedative to calm you down. We were afraid for your safety, Shara. You were wild and out of control. Not to mention stuck, trapped, in whatever possible memory you were having. It had to have been torture for you as it was painful to watch,” he informs me, looking away from me I assume in an attempt to hide any emotions he might be reliving himself.

  “Damn. I can’t believe this is happening.” He turns back to me, places a kiss on top of my head as we finish up our coffee and share a few cigarettes… both of us lost in thought.

  Pyro

  I got a text from Rogue while Shara was in the shower. Seems Kolton couldn’t get a flight out until midday, but should be here by the time night falls. Shara and I sat down earlier and wrote out a list of questions. We don’t want to chance missing something that could be vital. First, I’m gonna give Kolton a chance to speak after sharing what happened last night with him. If he tries to bullshit us, father or not, I’m gonna lay his ass out. This is my woman’s life that’s being fucked with, and I will not tolerate it in any way. “Any more news of Dad?” Shara asks, sauntering into the living room, towel wrapped around her head, cleaning her ears with a Q-tip. How she manages to walk around without shoving it into her eardrum, I’ll never understand. When I do this, I make sure to stay still, in front of the mirror, while cleaning my own ears. I don’t trust that little stick to not take out my hearing if I miss by even a decimal of an inch.

  “He’ll be here by nightfall. His plane is set to land at six p.m. at DFW airfield. It’ll take him about an hour to drive here. I don’t foresee him making it here until around eight though. He’ll have to go to the baggage claim to get his luggage and that takes forever.” Looking over at the clock on the wall, I see that we’re closing in at five o’clock. One hour and counting until he lands.

  “Wanna order takeout for dinner?” I ask her, since I’m not up for grilling or cooking tonight, and she needs some time to prepare for Kolton’s arrival.

  “Something greasy, loaded in carbs.” She swipes her tongue eagerly over her lower lip before biting down onto it. That one little thing she does sends my dick into protest from remaining limp and I can feel him begin to grow. Down, boy, I mentally order my cock. I can tell she’s been thinking about this particular meal already and will want that before she’ll even think about sex. “Fat Man Mountain has everything; I can have loaded spaghetti and you can order your meat and potatoes.”

  “Meat and potatoes? I do eat more than that ya know?” I tease her, just as I would on any other given day. I get a smile out of her which makes me happy in more ways than one. This one is genuine; unlike the others she’s been sending my way throughout the day.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. But you look like you could use a piece of big, juicy, grade A steak,” she playfully winks in my general direction as she saunters back out of the room. I’ll give her a thick steak alright. Reaching for my laptop, which is sitting on the coffee table, I place an online order for our meal.

  Shara

  I’m playing a game; one where I pretend everything is normal in my world. I’ve put on a brave face, said things where comments needed to be inserted, and moved forward as if it was any other day of the week. Time is bearing down on me for the moment of truth. Do I want to know? On one hand, I need the mystery that is my childhood solved. On the other hand, I want to stomp my feet, plug my ears with my fingers and reject anything that I don’t already know to be true. Either way, by bedtime tonight, I’ll have all the answers I seek.

  Dinner was perfect, but as we wait for my father to arrive, my tummy does flip flops. Rogue and Pyro are deep in conversation as I intermittently eye them in between my pacing. The wait feels like torture in itself, and at this point I’d rather the truth just be blurted out than to continue on like this.

  “Shara, my love, would you like a drink? Perhaps a bottle?” Pyro questions through what looks like slight frustration as he bats his lids in my direction. “Your pacing has me on edge, and guess what? I don’t do well on the edge. So, for the love of everything holy, could you please, please try and relax, my little savage?”

  Stopping in my tracks, I now find myself perturbed at his gall. Placing my hands upon my hips, I display my own annoyance. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Fucking Calm. I wasn’t aware there were rules on how I am allowed to act or feel during this moment in my life.”

  He starts to close the gap between us and Rogue hollers out, “Children! For fuck’s sake!” His deep voice commands respect and Pyro’s little sprint comes to a stop. “This isn’t elementary school. You’re not on the goddamn playground, you’re adults… both of you. And this is possible serious business here. So, could the both of you just simmer the fuck down, attempt to collect yourselves so we can get the answers we need?” He lights up a cigar in the middle of our kitchen which he never does, telling me he has some nerves of his own going on. But, I don’t dare say anything. He’s right and emotions are at an all-time high right now. “Fuck!” He pulls the cigar away from his lips and glares at it. “Look what you’ve made me do. I cannot afford to be distracted. I am this club's president and everything, and every move made by myself affects the well-being of us all.” He steps out onto the back porch, leaving us to ourselves as he gains his own composure back.

  There’s a moment of silence between myself and Pyro which once again leaves me alone in thought. “At least we didn’t get the paddle, or worse, suspended,” Pyro breaks the stillness between us by making a joke, “been a long time since I was chastised in the principal’s office.”

  Try as I might, I can’t contain my laughter. It leaves my mouth as more of a giggle, but my nerves are still at play here. “Yeah, been a while for me, too. And, he’s not wrong.” I look down and notice I’m mindlessly fidgeting with my fingers. Shaking them out, I turn around and place my hands on the sides of my head. “I’m just… scared,” I admit, my back facing my man as the thought of this admission while looking him in the face somehow makes me uncomfortable.

  The firm, yet gentle grip of his hands aro
und the sides of my arms causes me to let out a sigh. “No matter what this upcoming conversation brings, we’ll get through it together. I promise you that much.” His breath is warm as it trails down the back of my neck with each word, comforting me. I nod my head in agreeance as I fight off impending tears. It is then that the doorbell rings. I can feel my heart begin to beat rapidly inside my chest and I jerk myself around, facing my man. Placing his finger underneath my chin, he assures me, “Everything’s gonna be fine, even if it’s not what we want to hear.” I swallow hard as I breath in his words and he kisses my forehead. “Here we go.”

  “Ready,” Rogue announces, before looking at me with inquisitive eyes, stepping back inside. Inwardly, I roll my own eyeballs as I’ll admit I’m not too fond of Rogue being so closely attached to one of the most vulnerable moments I may ever experience in this life.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I announce as I follow him with my feet dragging the ground to the door. He pulls it open and I see my dad standing there, face looking sullen as he looks over Rogue and Pyro’s shoulders to find me. His shoulders stiffen as he takes in my swollen, bloodshot eyes. “Hi, Daddy,” I say, waving my hand in his direction. He gives me a raised brow before pushing his way between my two guards to get to me. He doesn’t even say excuse me as he passes them by.

  “Baby girl,” he gruffly says as he pulls me into a backbreaking bearhug. “Rogue said something happened, are you okay? I got here as soon as I could.” He leans back, pushing me away with his hands on my shoulders, taking me in further. “Tell me all about it. What’s going on?” The look on his face begs for immediate answers.

  “Let’s sit first,” I state, leading him over to the couch where I pull him down next to me. Pyro comes and sits on the arm next to me, laying his arm around my neck in a show of support. Rogue takes the recliner sitting directly in front of us.