Wildfire

by Bliss, Chelle

  “Nah,” I lie, peeling myself off his back and finally removing my helmet.

  Damn. The only people in the group who look happy to see me are Gigi and Grandma. Everyone else looks pissed. Not just a little pissed, but nuclear-level angry.

  Freakin’ great.

  “Are you sure your grandma won’t be upset?”

  “She’ll be happy to have another mouth to feed.” I give him a tight smile. “Trust me.”

  I climb off the bike, moving slower than any senior citizen I’ve ever seen during snowbird season as I try to tame my hair after it was held captive by the helmet.

  “Princess, stop being so dramatic. You’re just making it worse.”

  I crane my neck backward to take in his rugged face and piercing gray eyes. “Baby, you don’t understand my family.”

  He turns his head, surveying the group that hasn’t moved an inch. “They look nice,” he says seriously.

  “It’s all a ploy,” I grumble, knowing full well how angry they all are and what that means for me. I’m going to get my ass chewed out, especially by my mother. And my father will probably stand behind her, nodding, too angry to even form words. “They look sweet, but they’re vicious.”

  Mammoth grabs my bag from my hands. “You look like your mom,” he tells me, glancing down as I peer up at him. “You have her beauty.”

  I’ve always thought I was a perfect mix of my parents. My mother’s big eyes, but a combination of their eye colors. My nose is my father’s, my high cheekbones purely Maxine, along with my plump lips the boys always seem to rave about.

  Gigi’s the first one off the porch, running toward me. “Damn, I’ve never been so happy to see your crazy ass.” She throws her arms around me, ignoring Mammoth. “They’re not as upset. I think you’ll live until at least dessert.”

  I hug her back, trying not to laugh because it’ll only set my mom off. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

  “Good job on the timing. Pure perfection,” she tells me as she backs away, and her gaze swings to Mammoth. “Oh. Well, aren’t you a big one.” She giggles.

  “Mammoth, this is Gigi, my BFF and most favorite cousin. Gigi, this is Mammoth, the best fuck I’ve ever had, and he is indeed a big one.” I wink at her.

  Mammoth mutters a slew of curse words under his breath. “Princess, can you not talk about my dick to your entire family? I’m pretty sure it’s not what they’d like to hear.”

  “Baby, I promise not to talk about your cock to everyone, but this is my girl. We have no secrets.”

  And we seriously don’t. We’re open books, and that’s the way it’s always been.

  “Come on. Let’s get this over with. I’m pretty sure your mom’s going to burst your eardrums with the amount of anger she has swirling in her gut,” Gigi tells me as we weave through the long line of cars down the even longer driveway.

  “Great,” I groan, wishing I could’ve avoided the entire freak-out that’s about to happen.

  “Tamara,” my mother says in a clipped tone. “It’s nice of you to show your face again.”

  “Hi, Mom,” I reply, giving her a big smile, but not leaving Mammoth’s side. I’m too scared to let go. Too frightened of her seemingly quiet anger simmering under the surface, ready to break free.

  Dad’s right behind her, but his eyes aren’t on me. They’re locked on Mammoth, soaking him in, appraising him, probably knowing I’ve slept with him because men, especially my father, have a way of knowing shit they have no business knowing.

  “I have so many things to say to you,” Mom says almost in a whispered tone, and she takes a deep breath like she’s gearing up for something big. The same tone has the little hairs on the back of my neck standing on end, telling me to run. “You’re lucky I’m too old for prison, because right now, it’s taking everything in me not to put your ass down.”

  I ignore her theatrics, trying to change the subject because Maxine Gallo wants to go full-blown crazy momma on my ass. “Mom, this is Mammoth. He saved me,” I tell her and the rest of the family who’s looking at him like he’s an oddity.

  Pike’s glaring at Mammoth from near the doorway, silently stewing like the rest of them.

  Typical.

  Mammoth drops my bag to the sidewalk, holding out his hand to my uncle Joe since he’s the closest to him. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

  Uncle Joe eyes Mammoth’s palm, but before a handshake is exchanged, Grandma steps through the crowd, pushing them apart and coming to stand in front of me.

  “Tam, baby. I’m so happy you’re home and you brought a friend.” She tips her head back, the bloom of gray hair bobbing as she soaks in the wideness of Mammoth’s frame. “Well, aren’t you a tall drink of water.”

  “Lemme see,” Aunt Fran, the complete horndog who seems to have a hot biker guy tracker inside her, says, forcing her way through the crowd of people and coming to stand next to my grandma. “Well, isn’t he…”

  “Yep,” Grandma says, like they have some silent language or are communicating telepathically.

  “He’s…”

  “Uh-huh.”

  I glance up at Mammoth and shrug, but he has nothing but a smile on his face. He’s looking at them like they’re two sweet old ladies, but he’s so wrong. Dead wrong. Grandma is sweet, but damn it, don’t cross her. She’ll make your life miserable, and even though her children are grown, she’s still the boss.

  Then there’s Fran. She’s the handsiest old lady I’ve ever seen. She gets away with groping strapping strangers because of her age too. They think she’s just nice and probably feeble, but she’s smart as a whip and horny as fuck. She’s my spirit animal and everything I aim to be when I get old.

  “Let me get a better look at you, son,” Fran says, motioning with her hands for him to step closer.

  He goes without hesitation, thinking she’s just blind, but the woman could spot a hot guy from a mile away. “Hi,” Mammoth says to her before her hands are on his chest, feeling up his pecs with all the Oohs and Aahs.

  “Not bad,” she adds, sliding her hands to his arms and over his ink. “Not bad at all.”

  “Fran, get your hands off that boy,” Uncle Bear barks from the doorway, watching his handsy wife feel up another guy. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.”

  Fran licks her lips, smiling up at Mammoth. “I like his lessons,” she rasps, throwing Mammoth a wink.

  “Fuck me,” I mutter.

  “Dinner’s almost ready. I hope you have an appetite to match your size, Mammoth, ’cause I’m going to feed you like you’ve never been fed before,” Grandma says as she pulls Fran away from him.

  “You know the way to a man’s heart, ma’am. I’m starved,” he tells her, making the woman happy as she loops her arm through his and starts to move him toward the front door.

  “A word,” Mom says before I have a chance to go with them. I almost thought I’d made it. Almost thought I’d gotten off scot-free. But nope. Maxine wouldn’t make it that easy on me.

  “Sure, Mom.” I smile nervously. “I’m so happy to be home and safe. Phew. That was a tense few days, yeah? I mean, I could’ve been killed.” I throw that in, hoping to cool her anger

  The few family members who were still outside follow Mammoth and Grandma into the house, leaving Mom, Dad, and me alone on the porch, where I’ll probably meet my maker. I’m being dramatic, of course, but in the end, I’ll probably wish for a quick death instead of Maxine’s tongue.

  She doesn’t find amusement or solace in my words. There’s no hint of a smile or a You’re so right, baby. I’m happy you’re okay. There’re just her appraising eyes, searching my face, anger brewing in the darkness.

  “So, I’m sorry,” I blurt out, hoping to head off whatever can of verbal whoop-ass she has planned for me. “It was a dumb thing to do. I know. I know.” I throw up my hands, ready to get on my knees and beg for my life. “I could’ve been really hurt, but I’m okay. I made it back safe and sound. I lear
ned my lesson, and I’ll never do that again.”

  Mom steps forward, lips flat, eyes trained on me. “I’m too pissed to talk to you about how irresponsible, stupid, and careless you were this weekend. I won’t remind you of all the ways you could’ve been hurt or killed with your little stunt. I won’t…”

  “You kind of are,” I whisper and bite down on my lips as soon as her eyes widen.

  If Maxine were a hitter, she would’ve slapped the shit out of me right there. “Get your ass inside, feed the guy, and get him on his way. We’ll finish this talk at home.”

  “I don’t live at home, Mom,” I remind her, which probably wasn’t my best response, but it’s the first thing that came to mind.

  “Tamara Marie,” my father growls, and I jump.

  I completely forgot he was standing off to the side, silent and even scarier because my father has never really been the quiet type. Not with me, at least.

  “We’ll finish this conversation after your friend leaves. I don’t want to embarrass you in front of him,” Dad says.

  “Fuck that,” Mom adds immediately. “I don’t care who witnesses this. If you don’t live at home, we’ll finish this now. I have shit to say, child, and you’re going to listen.”

  I suck in a breath, pissed off but relieved that I’ll have a few more hours before my parents really lay into me for my shitty behavior. But then, I don’t want to wait. I don’t want to have their anger following me around all day like a dark cloud over my head. So, I do the only thing I know how to do in a situation like this—throw myself at their feet and beg for mercy.

  “I know it was wrong of me to turn off my phone and not tell anyone where I was going. It was selfish and childish of me to do something so stupid and irresponsible. I’ll never do that again. But,” I say, touching my hand to my chest, giving them the reality of the situation too, “I’m twenty-one years old, I don’t live at home anymore, and I’m in college. Ninety percent of the time, you don’t know where I am or what I’m doing. At some point, you need to realize I’m an adult.”

  My dad’s arm is around my mother’s shoulders now as they both gape at me, suddenly rendered speechless. I’m not being harsh, just truthful.

  “But I am sorry. I promise not to do something so stupid again. If I ever go back to the Disciples, I’ll make sure you know where I am first.”

  My father’s eyes flash with anger, and I realize I had been winning the argument until the last statement. “I forbid you to ever go back there,” he tells me like somehow he’s still in control of my day-to-day life, which he’s not.

  “Daddy, I love you. You’re my best friend,” I tell him, being partially truthful. “But you can’t forbid me to do something.”

  My mother steps forward, and I step back, avoiding her hands, which were no doubt going to grab my arm and tell me how life was really supposed to go.

  “Kids,” Grandma says, popping her head out of the doorway like she sensed shit wasn’t going well. “Get in here and finish this later. We have a guest, and the food’s ready. You’re embarrassing me.”

  I smile at her, thanking her silently for the save.

  “Fine,” Dad snaps. “But this conversation isn’t over.”

  Yay!

  “Not by a long shot,” Mom mutters, giving me the stink-eye before peeling away from my father and following my grandmother inside.

  “I love you, Dad,” I whisper, looking for a glimmer of hope.

  He grabs my hand, sliding our fingers together before bending over and kissing my cheek. “I love you too, peanut. You scared me,” he admits. “Your mother will calm down. Just give her some time.” He stops walking, and so do I. “Look at me, baby.”

  I glance up, staring into the eyes of the first man I ever loved and will always love.

  “We know you’re grown. We’re having a hard time dealing with our baby growing up and trying to spread her wings. But we were scared.” He shakes his head, closing his eyes for a moment. “When we couldn’t find you and then we heard about the lockdown, I nearly shit myself with worry.”

  “That’s not an image I’ll ever get out of my head, Dad.” I snort.

  “Tam, be serious. Remember how scared you were for Gigi when she was there, and you didn’t know if she was okay or not?”

  “Yes, but she texted me often, so I knew she was okay.” I regret the words as soon as they’re out of my mouth. I know why they’re pissed. I turned off my phone, ignoring everyone.

  I was selfish and inconsiderate of their feelings.

  “I’m sorry, Dad. I won’t do that again. I didn’t think about how you were feeling or if you were worried. I just wanted a little fun before school started. I should’ve at least let you know I was okay.”

  “Yoo-hoo!” Grandma yells from somewhere in the foyer because we didn’t follow along with them into the house.

  “We better go, but we’ll finish this later,” he tells me. “We can’t ground you or punish you, but you need to look at this from our perspective and start thinking about someone other than yourself all the time.”

  “I know. I’m sorry,” I say again and mean every word.

  I’ve always let my good time trump everything else. I’ve only thought about myself and how something will make me feel, but things are about to change. They have to.

  12

  Mammoth

  I haven’t sat down with a girl’s family since I was in high school. I forgot how awkward the experience is. Years haven’t changed anything except the comfort I feel in my own skin. For the most part, they’ve kept their eyes on the television, throwing a glance my way every few minutes. They’ve been nothing but kind to me since I walked through the door, uninvited and most likely unwanted.

  “Well, Mammoth, why don’t you tell us about yourself,” Tamara’s grandfather says, eyeing me curiously.

  “What would you like to know, sir?”

  I’m out of my league here. I have a big family, but we are scattered across the country, only exchanging Christmas cards at the holidays or catching up at funerals. But the Gallos, they know everything about everyone in the house. That much is clear.

  Grandpa slides up the sleeves of his plaid flannel even though it’s ninety degrees outside. “Where do you come from?”

  “Here and there, but originally Ohio.” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, giving the man my eyes out of respect. “We moved around a lot when I was a kid.”

  “Military?” he asks, tipping his head back like he’s taking me in through new eyes. Mentioning the military always earns me respect from even the wariest soul.

  I know how I look. There’s nothing clean-cut about me anymore. Head-to-toe tattoos, piercings, long hair, my worn-in jeans and T-shirt, and my boots that are standard issue and I’m never without. Rain or shine, heat or cold, they’re the thing I could never leave behind from the military.

  “My father was in the army, and me after him.” I gaze toward the foyer where Tamara stayed behind with her parents.

  “Honorable,” Tamara’s grandfather says, while the other two men in the room stay silent.

  “How do you go from the military to a motorcycle club?” the big guy on my right asks, wrinkling his nose like somehow the two could never mix.

  “That’s what you ask, Mike?” the dark-haired guy asks the bigger one.

  I blow out a breath, knowing it’s not the path most bikers take. “After I left the army, I felt lost. Tried to find my place for a while and failed. I was in Daytona one weekend, visiting an old friend, and ran into Tiny and Morris. A few beers later and I felt a connection. I saw their brotherhood, the family they built, and it called to me. Reminded me of my days with my platoon. Missed that shit. Wanted it back. So, I took it.”

  The dark-haired guy stares at me, not moving a muscle. “What was your rate?”

  “MP.”

  “Can we speak English?” the big guy who I now know is Mike asks, looking from his brother to me.

  “Military po
lice,” I tell him, unable to hide my smile because there’s something about the guy I like.

  “Joe, you ever wished you had a son to serve our country?” Mike asks.

  “Part of me wants to say yes.” Joe smiles, finally showing an emotion other than pissed off or indifferent. “It’s honorable for sure. Hell, life with boys would’ve been easier in so many ways, but I love my girls and wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.”

  “I’d love it if Stone joins the military when he graduates. Mia’s against it, which isn’t shocking. She’s a softy. But me, I want my boy to be a man.” Mike flexes, and I almost expect him to kiss his biceps by the way he looks at his muscles. “The kid has my genes after all.”

  I keep my mouth shut. Not passing judgment on their conversation. Everyone thinks their kid would make the best soldier, when in reality, the life isn’t for everybody. Most of the dumbasses who sign up to serve have no idea what they’re in for until it’s too late and they have Property of the United States practically stamped on their ass.

  “Thank you for your service, Mr.…” Tamara’s grandfather says, ignoring his sons.

  “My name’s JD, sir.” I lean back, liking the old guy more and more. He’s calm, cool, and appears to be genuinely curious and kind. “JD Saint.”

  “Sir,” the old man laughs. “Sal, please.”

  “Yes, Mr. Sal.”

  Sal shakes his head. “Just Sal.”

  “Wasn’t raised that way, sir. Old habits die hard.”

  Between my mom and then the military, especially when it comes to my elders, sir is standard. I can’t shake it. In the club, I don’t give a fuck, but outside, in the real world, I am always respectful. Always.

  “How did you end up in Florida, JD?”

  “I was assigned to United States Southern Command near Miami. And after I got out, I never left, sir.”

  “Sal,” he reminds me, shaking his head, but I’ll never call the man by his first name.

  “Where the hell are Thomas and James?” Tamara’s grandmother asks, holding a spoon in her right hand with an oven mitt covering her left. “I can’t hold dinner much longer.”