Burn: Men of Inked Heatwave #2

by Chelle Bliss

  She blows out a shaky breath. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you.”

  “What the fuck do you want me to do?” I growl, but I know what she’s saying isn’t totally off base.

  “You’re a coldhearted bastard sometimes.” She’s trying to run my life, something I’ve seen all the Gallos do to one another on a daily basis. “You should take him home,” she says finally, getting to her point.

  I shake my head, thinking I had to have heard her wrong. “Say that again.”

  She leans her ass against the railing and sighs. “It doesn’t make sense for him to stay here. He needs you right now. You have a place, a stable job, and although sometimes you’re a dick, you’re basically a good guy.”

  “Thanks for the compliment,” I mutter.

  “Shut up,” she growls. “Why would you leave him here?”

  “She’s right,” Granny says from the door, hiding behind the screen and eavesdropping like she always used to do.

  “Fuck,” I groan. They’re going to double-team me.

  “Now, Pike,” Granny says, sitting down in the rocking chair next to me. “Your girlfriend—” she dips her head toward Gigi, who is standing there with a smug grin “—is bringing up a valid point about Austin.”

  I rub my forehead, readying myself for the assault from two sides. I never imagined my grandma would want Austin to come live with me. Never in a million freaking years.

  Hell, we barely know each other.

  The kid liked toy trucks the last time he and I breathed the same air, and now he’s driving a real one.

  “You can’t seriously think it’s a good idea?” I scoff.

  Granny nods, giving me a sweet smile, which always made me crumble in the past. “He needs guidance.”

  I lean forward again, resting my elbows on my knees, scanning the wood planks beneath my feet. “I can barely guide myself, Granny. I don’t think Austin coming to live with me would be a good idea.”

  No fucking way am I taking this kid home with me.

  “Your daddy’s in jail, and your mama’s in her casket. He needs a man in his life to show him the way. He needs to know how to survive in this crazy world I don’t understand. I’m old, Pike. Too old to be raising a teenager.” Granny takes a long sip of her tea, giving me time to process what she’s just said.

  I study Gigi as she glances down at her feet, avoiding my eyes completely as Granny continues.

  “If Austin were a girl, I would keep her. Show her how to be a lady and not put up with any boy’s shit, but he isn’t. Lord knows your father didn’t teach him how to be a man. That leaves you, and I know what kind of man you are.”

  Without my granny, I’m not sure where I’d be or, hell, who I’d be. No matter what I was doing, I always wondered about the possibility of disappointing her, and that single thought stopped me from doing some stupid shit in the last ten years.

  “No. It’s not happening,” I tell her, standing from the chair. “This conversation is over.”

  “We’ll see,” Granny brags, but I don’t turn around to see her smug smile.

  Fuck my life.

  6

  Pike

  “Will you come in with me?” Austin asks me as we stand in the hallway of the funeral home.

  Gigi squeezes my hand, silently pleading with me not to be an asshole. “Sure,” I tell him, making my girl happy, but me miserable at the same time.

  The last thing I want is time alone with the woman who made me feel like nothing but garbage for most of my childhood.

  Do I wish she were alive? Sure.

  I’d never wish death on someone unless they were trying to kill me or mine. But am I torn up over her taking her last breath?

  Not in the least.

  Austin brushes his hand across his dark hair, making sure it’s perfect for the tenth time since we walked through the door. He looks ten years older in his black suit and nothing like the kid I left behind.

  Gigi pops up on her tiptoes, brushing her lips across my cheek. “Be there for him,” she whispers. “He needs you.”

  I peer down into her blue eyes. “I will,” I reassure her, speaking softly so no one else can hear.

  Granny turns toward Austin, playing with his tie to make sure it’s perfect just like his hair. “It’s okay to cry,” she tells him as he lifts his head.

  “I’m not going to cry, Gran.”

  She touches his face with her fingertips and gives him a pained smile. “I know you’re grown, Austin, but it’s okay to feel things.”

  He grabs her wrist, gently pulling her hand away from his cheek. “I’ll be okay.”

  I release Gigi and straighten my jacket for whatever fucking reason. I hold my breath as the funeral director moves in front of the double doors.

  “Please let me know if you’re unhappy with anything,” he declares solemnly.

  If we’re unhappy with anything?

  Is anyone ever happy at a funeral?

  “We will, sir,” Austin tells him, sounding very much like an adult.

  Austin keeps surprising me. He’s handled the man with grace and respect, something I couldn’t do, and I’m not even torn up about being here. He not only looks older than he is, but he acts like it at times too. Sure, there’re still remnants of the little boy there, but he’s seen things I can’t imagine.

  He found her.

  I take a deep breath, following behind my brother as we step into the room filled with wooden chairs placed in neat, even rows. In the front, surrounded by flowers, is a white casket, half open and with my mother’s face clearly visible.

  Austin freezes, his shoulders going rigid. “I don’t know if I can do this.” His back is to me, and his gaze is firmly locked on our mother.

  I step next to him, placing my hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be right here with you.”

  Austin sucks in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment and muttering something so quietly I can’t make out the words. When he exhales, he opens his eyes and looks over his shoulder at me. “I don’t think I could’ve done this without you, big brother.”

  Every time he calls me brother, the guilt of leaving him grows roots, settling in my bones.

  I wish I could go back.

  Change the way I left things. I should’ve kept in contact with him. It wouldn’t have changed where we are standing, but it would’ve made my presence mean more than it actually did.

  When he doesn’t move, I squeeze his shoulder again. “I won’t leave you,” I promise him.

  “I’ll hold you to that.” He takes a step, moving out of my grasp.

  I follow behind, my eyes going back to our mother’s motionless body.

  Austin’s steps are long and slow as he closes the gap between himself and Augusta Moore.

  High-class socialite.

  Piss-poor mother.

  His knees buckle as soon as he’s within a few feet of her, landing on the tiny kneeling bench in front of her. His hands shake as he places them on the edge of the casket. “Fuck,” he hisses, brushing the backs of his fingers across his face, no doubt wiping away tears he said he wouldn’t shed.

  I slide into a chair in the first row, careful to give him space to feel what he needs to feel.

  I face forward, the words Loving Mother nestled in a flower arrangement resting on the lid catching my attention.

  Now that’s laughable.

  “She looks so good.” He turns his face. “Don’t you think?”

  I look at her, trying to make Austin happy, and I finally see my mother’s face clearly for the first time in years. “Yeah.” My throat starts to close as the realization that the woman who gave birth to me is gone. Dead.

  My mind buzzes with so many things.

  So many fucked-up emotions I didn’t expect to have wash over me, coating me like a second skin.

  Sadness.

  Remorse.

  Longing.

  Regret.

  “Just remember, baby. I’ll always love you,�
�� she says as she slides my favorite pajamas over my head. “Never think otherwise.”

  I throw my arms around her neck as soon as she starts to pull away, planting a wet kiss against her cheek. “I love you too, Mommy,” I whisper against her soft skin. “Forever and always.”

  “Forever and always.” She wraps her arms around me tightly, nestling her face against my neck, tickling me. “Now, crawl into bed, and I’ll read you a story.”

  I practically leap out of her grasp, climbing up on my cool race car bed, tucking myself under the covers. “I want the baseball book.” I smile up at her as she walks toward my nightstand, the book I want already waiting.

  She sits down, tapping my nose with her thin finger, giving me a big smile. “As if any other book exists.”

  I giggle because I love this part of the day.

  It’s only her and me.

  No Dad because he’s been extra grouchy, ignoring me more than usual.

  But Mom…she makes me happy.

  I reach for my neck, loosening the tie, suddenly unable to breathe. How could a woman so loving turn on a dime?

  “Who’s Ashton?” my father asks Mom as she reaches for the coffeepot.

  I look up because my father’s voice is angrier than usual. The toy truck in my hand is in midair, and I can’t stop myself from staring at my mother as she stands so still, it’s like she’s frozen.

  “Ashton?” she whispers, giving my father a funny look.

  My father steps behind her, holding up a piece of paper and shaking it in her face. “Don’t play stupid with me, Augusta. I already know, but I want to hear it from your lying, cheating lips.”

  I widen my eyes when he reaches for her, wrapping his hands around her arms, forcing her to face him. Although Dad’s not nice, he’s never laid his hands on her before.

  “Colton, you’re hurting me.” She glances down at his hand and winces. “I have no idea who Ashton is.”

  Dad’s face grows redder, and his jaw pulses, the same way it does when he’s about to lay into me for being a pest. “Do you know what this is?” He shakes the piece of paper in her face again.

  She stares him straight in the eyes, not even bothering to look at the white sheet. “No.”

  “I knew that bastard wasn’t mine. Had the DNA test to prove it two years ago, but could never figure out who you fucked”—he says that word so loud, she flinches—“until now.”

  I stand quickly, dropping my toy truck to the carpet, and run toward the kitchen. “You let go of her!” I shout, grabbing at my dad’s arm.

  His angry gaze slices to me, his teeth showing with his lips curled. “Get the hell away, little asshole.” He pushes me with his elbow.

  I topple backward, catching myself with my hands before my butt hits the floor. “Don’t you touch her!” I yell, climbing to my feet to rescue her.

  I have to.

  His foot is in the air, connecting with my stomach before I have a chance to straighten. I fly back, my ass landing hard on the tile floor as I gasp for air and tears fill my eyes.

  “Don’t,” she pleads. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. Just leave him alone.”

  Tears trickle down my cheeks as I curl into a ball, trying to catch my breath.

  No one comes to my rescue.

  No one seems to care, not even my mom, that I can’t breathe.

  “Who is he?”

  “He doesn’t live here anymore.”

  “Augusta, so help me God.” He raises his hand again, and she flinches.

  “He used to deliver our mail.”

  My father’s eyes narrow, and his entire body rocks back like he’s the one who’s been hit. “You fucked the mailman?”

  My mother smirks, holding his angry glare. “Many times,” she taunts him. “So, so many times.”

  “The boy that has my name is the fucking mailman’s kid?”

  My mother’s smirk breaks into a wide smile. “He is.”

  “And this one?” My father’s eyes fall down to her stomach, where my little brother’s growing.

  “He’s yours.”

  My father wraps his fingers around her neck, and her face turns red. “If I find out this one isn’t mine, Augusta…”

  Tears trickle down her cheeks. “Please,” she gasps, clawing at his fingers. “I can’t breathe.”

  “That one,” he snarls, turning toward me, “is nothing. Not to me. Not to you. He’s nothing. Do you hear me?”

  “He’s…”

  “He’s what?” my father challenges.

  “He’s my baby.”

  “He’s nothing to you. If you want to keep either of the children, he’s nothing to either of us.”

  I wipe at my face, sniffling as my nose starts to run.

  I’m not nothing.

  I’m their little boy.

  I’m the one Mommy loves the most.

  My father moves his head so close to hers, their noses are touching. “So help me God, if you want to keep breathing and for your bastard to live too, you’ll do as I say.”

  “But I can’t…”

  “You will!” he shouts.

  She nods as her eyes find me for a brief moment, and I think everything’s going to be okay.

  But then he shakes her body, lifting her off the floor by her throat. “I’m not playing with you, Augusta. Don’t test me.”

  Her eyes leave me, and her gaze goes blank. “I swear, Colton,” she gasps.

  He places her feet back on the floor and releases her neck. “Traitorous bitch,” he mumbles and turns to face me. “Nothing but a no-good bastard.”

  I’m a good boy. I always follow the rules and listen to Mommy, careful not to upset my dad. Today, I did nothing wrong, yet he looks angrier with me than he ever has before.

  “Mommy,” I whisper, lifting my arms, looking for her embrace.

  She steps forward, and I smile, thinking she’s going to wipe away my sadness and give me the snuggles she’s always been so good at giving.

  She doesn’t reach out for me.

  She doesn’t even look at me.

  She steps forward, grabbing the piece of paper he’d dropped on the floor, and walks out of the room.

  “Pike?” Austin whispers.

  I sit there unable to move, memories I’d locked down so deep flooding back.

  Colton Moore isn’t my father.

  The news I’d long forgotten crashes over me, leaving me with more questions than answers. I’ll never be able to find out why or how. How could she turn her back on me so easily? Sure, she was trying to protect me, but she could’ve gotten away from Colton and made a new home for us. She could’ve done anything more than she did.

  “Yeah?” I blink, chasing away the tears filling my eyes.

  He studies my face, still kneeling in front of our mother’s casket. “You okay?”

  I nod, not trusting my voice.

  “You want to say anything to Mom?”

  More than you want to hear.

  “Kneel with me,” he pleads, motioning toward his side. “I want you here with me.”

  Austin’s the only person besides my grandmother who ever made me feel wanted in my family. He looked up to me from the time he could talk, always trying to get me to play cars when I was too busy being pissed off at the world.

  I move to be at his side because my kid brother deserves my attention.

  Austin grasps my hand as soon as I’m next to him. “She wasn’t an awful mom all the time, Pike,” he comments like he’s reading my mind. “Was she?”

  I shake my head, choking back the suffocating sadness. “Not always, kid.”

  I’d blocked out anything good we’d ever had before walking into this room. It was easier never to think about the happy times, the moments where I felt loved, before my father took it all away.

  She allowed it to happen.

  She didn’t fight back.

  She didn’t try to run.

  She gave up on me.

  He squeezes my fin
gers as I take in our mother’s pale, serene face. “She loved you, you know.”

  “I don’t know, Aus. It doesn’t feel like she ever did.”

  “She told me,” he whispers, even though we’re alone. “Sometimes, when Dad wasn’t around, she’d talk about you.”

  My entire body jerks back. “Austin, you don’t have to lie to make me feel better. I’m a big guy, and I know exactly how she felt.”

  He shakes his head, eyes dark and serious but still swimming with tears. “I remember how she treated you, Pike. I was there. I was little, but I saw.” He bows his head and gives it a slight shake. “It wasn’t right, and I’ll never understand why. But sometimes, she’d talk about you like you were everything in the world to her.”

  “You were everything to her, Austin. Mom adored you. Dad too.”

  “I’ll miss her,” he admits sadly. “No one will ever love me as much as she did.”

  I wish I could say the same, but I can’t. I miss the version of my mother that was tucked so deep in my memory, it took seeing her dead body for me to remember.

  She’s the one I’ll miss.

  But this shell…the awful woman who turned her back on me, I won’t give her a second thought.

  “I love you, Austin.” I look over at him, placing my hand on top of his. “I’ll always love you. I can’t replace Mom, but I want you to know you’re not alone.”

  He gives me a halfhearted smile, pulling my hand in front of his and placing them both against the casket. “If she did nothing else right in her life, she gave us each other.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” Mrs. Daniels, my high school English teacher, declares as she shakes my hand. “She was a lovely woman.”

  “Thank you,” I repeat for what feels like the hundredth time this afternoon. I’m on autopilot, and my voice is robotic.

  “Mrs. D,” Austin greets her from my side, taking her hand as soon as she offers it to him.

  I take a deep, shaky breath when Gigi grasps my hand. “You’re doing great, baby. Just another hour.”

  I smile at the next person, Mr. Porter, the town butcher. “The town has a hole in it now that your mother’s gone, son.”