by A. M. Myers
We’re going to lose him.
“Where is the ambulance?” Emma screams, her tears growing more frantic as she glances up at Tate. If Tate replies to her, I don’t hear her as I watch Blaze’s chest, begging him every second to take his next breath but it seems like the time between each breath keeps getting longer and my mind screams, begging for help. I know I haven’t known Blaze for very long but in the short time I’ve been here, I’ve seen the kind of man he is and I’ve felt his kindness and warmth. He’s too good, too important to every member of this club to die.
“Emma,” he whispers, his hand weakly rising off the ground. She grabs it in both of her blood stained hands as I use my whole arm to apply pressure to his abdomen, picking up her slack and praying that the paramedics get here soon. “Need you to do something for me, Darlin’.”
She shakes her head, a sob bubbling out of her lips. “Don’t you dare say your good-byes. You hear me, Malcolm. You still have too much life to live to give up right now.”
“Just in case,” he murmurs, his voice growing weaker and my heart hammers in my chest as I shake my head, the image of my mom lying on a hospital gurney filling my mind. “Tell my boy how sorry I am, will ya? Tell him I only wanted to protect him and that I love him more than anything else in the fucking world.”
“Blaze,” she wails, shaking her head but he ignores her.
“Tell him that I’m so fucking proud of the man he’s become and the family he’s built with you. This is going to hurt him but I’m not worried because I know he has you and you’re the best thing that has ever happened to him.”
She presses a hand to his face and his eyes open slightly. “We still need you, Blaze - this family and this club needs you. You can’t go leavin’ us.”
He doesn’t respond and my breath catches in my throat as I stare at his chest, willing him to breathe.
Oh, God, no.
No.
No.
No.
Emma sobs, shaking him a little and he sucks in a ragged breath, dragging his eyes open again as a ghost of a smile dances across his lips.
“I see her…”
“Who?” Emma asks him, jostling him again to keep him talking. “Who do you see, Blaze?”
His smile widens, happiness filling his eyes as he looks up at the sky. “Sarah… my Sarah. She’s waiting for me. I have to go to her.”
A sob rips through the air and I peek over my shoulder at Tate as tears streak down her face and she gasps for a breath, her phone hovering in the air next to her ear and her eyes wide. Sarah was her mom and Blaze’s one true love but for a bunch of reasons, they had been a secret for a lot of their relationship. When she died last year in a car accident, the truth came out and it brought Tate and Lincoln together but I know she’s still grieving the loss. She wobbles on her feet and spots dance in my vision as the babies pop into my head.
She needs help.
“Travis!” I yell and his head whips up, his haunted eyes meeting mine. My heart aches for him but I can’t do anything to help him right now so I nod to Tate. “Help her.”
He blinks, staring at Tate for a second before he nods and moves to her side, wrapping his arm around her to keep her from collapsing as I turn back to Blaze. Emma shakes him again and he takes another breath.
This can’t be happening.
I don’t know what to do, how to help him, and my mind spins so I do the only thing I can think of which is to press down harder on Blaze’s wound but it works. He gasps in pain and takes another ragged breath as his eyes open. Looking up at Emma, he smiles again and wipes the tears from her face.
“Don’t cry…baby girl… it’ll be okay…I’m so lucky…to call you my daughter… and I’ve lived an amazing life… don’t be sad.”
She shakes her head, sobbing loudly as she buries her face in his shoulder. “You can’t leave us, Blaze… you can’t…”
“Have to… darlin’… Sarah’s waiting for me… miss her so much…”
Her sobs get louder, joining the wail of sirens as she sits back up and shakes his hand. This time he doesn’t open his eyes again but he does take a labored breath and I will the ambulance to move faster as I stare at his chest, tears dripping down my face as pain tears through me - old and new twisting together and fueling each other as I think about everyone I’ve already lost and all of the people I could still lose. I may have only been around this club for a month but Blaze was right, we’re a family and I love all of them. Emma shakes him again, screaming at him to breathe as I continue focusing on his chest.
Come on, Blaze.
Breathe.
Fucking breathe.
Please…
Chapter Thirty-One
Rowan
Dark, ominous clouds loom over our heads, threatening rain, and the wind whips through the cemetery, indicative of our collective shit mood as we stand huddled together, watching the casket slowly being lowered into the ground. A clap of thunder makes me jump as the tears drip down my cheeks and I cling to Travis as the scene from four days ago plays in my mind over and over again – the whine of the bikes, Emma’s screams as she tried to keep Blaze talking, and the racing of my heart as I tried to process it all. At the time, everything seemed to move in slow motion but looking back, it all happened so fucking fast that it’s getting difficult to keep the details straight but that hasn’t stopped Warren from haunting my dreams for the past few nights. Or erased the image of Blaze lying dead on the pavement from flashing through my mind every time I close my eyes.
Sighing, I glance up at Travis as he stares at the casket, his eyes vacant and his lips pressed together in a thin line. I give his hand a squeeze and grip his bicep with my free hand as I cuddle into his side, hoping I can bring him even a sliver of comfort but I’m not holding out hope since nothing else I’ve tried to ease his suffering has worked yet. Today is the first time since Blaze was murdered that he didn’t wake up and immediately start drinking but that’s only because he had to drive his bike to the funeral and Storm chewed his ass out last night about not being drunk during the funeral but I have no doubt that as soon as we get back to Emma and Nix’s house, he will go straight for a bottle again. My throat feels tight as I watch him but he never takes his eyes off of the casket, swimming with so much pain and anger that I suck in a breath and drag his arm over my shoulder so I can cuddle into his side. He clings to me, holding me tight to his body as a single tear falls down his cheek and he quickly wipes it away, gritting his teeth. The pain in my chest is so potent, so overpowering that I want to wrap my arms around him and tell him how much I love him, tell him that he has me but that little voice in the back of my head stops me, reminding me that doing that will only end in even more heartbreak for me.
The casket comes to a stop, deep in the ground, and Travis holds me tighter, pressing a kiss to my head as two men who work at the cemetery step forward with shovels and behind piling dirt on top. Sniffles surround us as everyone else turns away and starts making their way over to the bikes parked on the street but Travis doesn’t move. Peeking up at him, my heart breaks all over again, just like it does every single day as I watch him try to come to grips with his loss. He’s so sad and so angry and so lost but I know better than anyone that there is no shortcut wen it comes to grief. As awful as it is, he just has to wade through it but he won’t be doing it alone. Gripping the front of his black button up shirt, I give it a tug, prompting him to glance down at me.
“You ready to go, baby?”
He sighs, glancing back at the grave before nodding. “Yeah.”
With a furrowed brow, he sucks in a breath and grabs my hand but before we can turn toward the street, a man steps out from behind a tree about twenty feet away from us and I gasp, stumbling back as my knees buckle but Travis doesn’t let me fall. My whole body trembles and tears sting my eyes as I stare at the man, dressed in black with that damn white mask on his face. Travis looks down at me before following my line of sight and he takes off before I can
stop him, running at Warren at full speed, his face contorted with rage.
Shit.
“Lincoln!” I scream, glancing back at the rest of the club and my brother’s head jerks up, scowling at me before he notices Travis chasing Warren back into the trees.
“Fuck,” he hisses, dropping the keys to his bike on the seat as he takes off running toward me. All of the guys turn and without a second thought follow behind him as they chase after Travis and Warren, determination on their faces. Warren cuts to the right and books it back toward me, evading capture, and I stumble back as my heart hammers in my chest. The way he looked at me in the parking lot as Blaze lay dying at my feet pops into my mind and tears sting my eyes.
Is he here for me?
I remember the comment Travis made about Warren taking a liking to me and black dots dance in my vision as I stumble back, running from him, before I trip over something and fall to the ground. He closes in on me, getting closer and closer as my heart beats so fast and so hard, I’m certain it’s going to give out and just when I think it’s over, Tate steps in front of me, her gun drawn and pointing straight at Warren’s chest. He skids to a stop and it gives Travis the valuable seconds he needs to tackle him from behind, taking him down to the ground. In rapid succession, he flips Warren over onto his back, straddles his body, rips his mask off, and begins smashing his fist into his face repeatedly as I watch, bile rising up in my throat.
Glancing over the man’s body, I flash back to the memory of Warren in the parking lot and the way his brown hair fell into his eyes, and I scream as my gaze locks onto the man’s blond locks. “Stop. Travis, stop! It’s not Warren.”
“What?” he snaps, his chest heaving as he gasps for air from the exertion and I point to the man’s hair, forcing Travis to glance down and really take a good look at him for the first time. Groaning, he throws himself off of the man and scrubs his hand down his face as the rest of the guys reach us.
“What’s going on?” Storm growls, striding to the front of the group. Since Blaze’s death, he has really taken on the role of acting President, stepping up and being the rock we all needed, and it makes perfect sense to me why Blaze made him his VP.
“I-I’m sorry…” the guy chokes out, turning on his side and coughing before spitting out a mouthful of blood. “This g-guy just paid me to come h-here and wear the mask. I d-didn’t know… p-please don’t hurt me.”
Lincoln sighs, running his hand through his hair. “Do you know his name? The guy who paid you?”
“W-Warren… he said his name was Warren and he gave me five hundred dollars… s-said it was a practical joke.”
“At a fucking funeral?” Travis snaps, leveling a glare at the man and he lifts his shaking hands in surrender as he shakes his head.
“He didn’t say it was a funeral.” He looks down at the ground and shakes his head again. “I’m so s-sorry. Truly.”
Storm sighs, studying him for a second before nodding to the exit. “Get the fuck out of here before I set my friend loose on you again.”
The man doesn’t need to be told twice, jumping up and scurrying away from us as fast as he can. We all watch him go for a second before Lincoln steps up in front of me and holds his hand out to help me off the ground. When I’m back on my feet, he grabs my arms and holds me steady.
“You okay?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Let’s get the fuck out of here before anything else happens,” Storm orders, curling his hand above his head in a signal to roll out and I walk across the grass to Travis as he glances back at Blaze’s grave. As soon as I’m close, he grabs me and pulls me into his arms, releasing a sigh and I know better than to ask him if he’s okay because it’s clear that none of us are and I’m not even sure if we ever will be again. Dropping my head back, I meet his eyes and his brows knit together as pain splashes across his face but before I can say anything, he smashes his lips to mine. His kiss is desperate in a way I’ve never felt before and tears gather in my eyes as he pours his agony into me, clinging to me like I’m the last shred of hope in his battered heart. I want to be that for him. Hell, at this point, I would be anything he needed me to be but he doesn’t know that and I can never tell him.
“Let’s go,” he whispers against my lips before pressing one last quick kiss there. When he pulls back, he throws his arm over my shoulder and we walk down to his bike together and climb on. The engine rumbles to life and I wrap my arms around his waist, laying my head against his back, my mind working in overdrive as he pulls into line behind his brothers.
The last four days have probably been the weirdest four days of my entire life - filled with brief snippets of confusion, fear, pain, and worry but most of the time, I’m just numb. That day in the parking lot doesn’t feel real yet and I keep thinking that I’ll catch Blaze in the hallway or find him getting coffee in the kitchen every morning. No one has even talked about the case or Warren, all of us just too lost in our pain to think about it but it’s clear after the incident at the cemetery that we need to refocus on him and his plan for us.
The wind whips through my hair and as we fly through Baton Rouge, the scene from the parking lot pops into my mind again and tears sting my eyes. By the time the ambulance finally showed up, Blaze was already gone and everything else kind of happened in a blur. I do remember Detective Rodriguez showing up at some point and taking our statements. I gave him the description of Warren but I know it wasn’t helpful. He informed us that another detective had been assigned to the case given his relationship with the club but that he’d be around to help as much as possible. Oh, and apparently, Sergeant Williams is doubling down on her investigation into us, convinced that we had something to do with the deaths of all three girls Warren killed as well as Tawny’s death and Veronica’s kidnapping. It’s ridiculous but as far as I’m concerned, it’s a problem for another day.
Pulling into the driveway of Emma and Nix’s house, the guys line their bikes up along one side before they all jump off and amble inside, everyone lost in their own thoughts. As soon as we get inside, Travis heads straight for the booze, the tortured look on his face hitting me straight in the chest quickly followed by the ache I’m becoming all too familiar with. He snags a bottle of whiskey before walking back into the living room and throwing himself into one of the chairs in the corner. I walk across the space, closing the distance between us, and sit in the chair next to his, eyeing him as he spins the top off of the bottle and raises it to his lips, tipping it back and letting the liquor pour down his throat.
Everyone mills around us, getting drinks of their own as conversation slowly starts to fill the aching silence and Emma pulls out trays of food she prepared for the wake, setting them out on the counter so folks can pick at it when they get hungry. Someone turns on Blaze’s favorite music, classic eighties rock, before turning it down a bit so we can all still talk to each other. With the threat from Warren still looming, it won’t be much of a party but Blaze and our love for him deserves to be acknowledged, even if it isn’t a total rager. Peeking over at Travis again, I sigh. He turns to look at me and holds out the bottle, asking if I want some, and I shake my head. I’m pretty sure he’s drinking enough for the both of us and if tonight is anything like the last four nights, I’ll have to take care of him and make sure he gets up to our bed. I watch him as he presses the bottle to his lips and tips it back again, chugging the liquor inside for a second before pulling it away with a wince.
“Hey,” I whisper and he turns to look at me again as I reach out and grab his hand. A ghost of a smile stretches across his face as he looks down at our joined hands before meeting my eyes again. “You know I’m here for you, right?”
He nods, his eyes clear for a brief moment but his smile falls away. “I know, Princess.”
I want to say more, tell him how worried I am about him as he raises the bottle to his lips again but our relationship has become such a balancing act, leaving me frozen on a tightrope because I’m too scared to mov
e. What I want to do is pull him up to our room and confess my love for him, hoping that it’ll be enough to make him feel like he has someone to cling to as everything else rages around us but I’m not some naive little girl who thinks love can fix everything. And I’m certain that telling him the truth would only drive him away. Sighing, I squeeze his hand and turn to watch everyone else as Storm clears his throat and holds his drink in the air.
“To Blaze. He’s the reason this club exists, the reason we have this incredible family, and I know we’ll do whatever we can to honor him every single day we’re on this earth.”
A chorus of cheers rise up around us as everyone else lifts their glasses before taking a sip and I glance over at Travis as he chugs more of the whiskey, my brows knitting together as my stomach churns.
“To Storm,” someone else calls and I glance up as everyone raises their glasses again. Chance takes a step forward. “Our new president. It’s a hell of a job and you’re not taking over under ideal circumstances but we know you’ll kill it.”
Storm holds his hand up, shaking his head. “Hold up. We haven’t even fucking voted yet.”
“Well, let’s do it now then,” Chance says, turning to look at everyone as they nod in agreement. “If you want Storm as our new President, say yay and if you don’t, say nay.”
All of the brothers raise their glasses in the air and shout, “yay!” Storm shakes his head, looking around the room at all of them as Chance walks up to him and hands him something, whispering something only meant for Storm’s ears before he claps his shoulder. Storm stares down at the thing in his hand for a few seconds before looking up and clearing his throat, lifting his glass in another toast. Nix steps forward.
