Wild Blaze

by London Casey

  Welcome to world of BACK DOWN DEVIL MOTORCYCLE CLUB

  ~

  A romance novella by London Casey

  London Casey is the pen name for bestselling romance author Karolyn James

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  WILD BLAZE

  A Back Down Devil MC Novella

  All Brody Coners knows, or cares about, is his loyalty to the Back Down Devil MC patch on his back. Nothing else matters.

  So when he bumps into a jittery, but very sexy nurse who is trying to save one of his brother's lives, he's surprised that he’s taken back by her. Not just by her beauty, but by the secret he can see she's hiding.

  The absolute last thing Heather Langlin needs in her messed up life is another man telling her what to do. If it wasn't stressful enough to have an abusive boyfriend who thinks he's greater than any living man in the world, now a biker - a really hot biker - is trailing her, asking her questions that have her on edge.

  The more Brody pushes, the more Heather gives. And soon her secret forces Brody to protect Heather and save Down Devil MC from another violent tragedy.

  one.

  When the rumble of the engine died, that’s when reality came back. And reality was sometimes best left for someone else to deal with. For Brody, he rode the streets of Frelen where needed, and when, letting the Back Down Devil patch on his leather cut speak louder than his words ever really needed to be. It was nice to fit in, nice to have something that felt like a family, but the offset was that there were bullets waiting to break his skin and slice up his insides.

  Brody stepped off his motorcycle and went into the small store. The dive store used to sell gas; the gas pumps were now rusted skeletons that remained in the middle of the cracked lot, chains around them. There was no more gas in the pumps, even though one of the chains had been cut. Probably some burned out, druggie looking for either a cheap high or to use the gas as a form of currency for his next high.

  A small bell rang at the top of the door. Behind the counter stood a beautiful young woman. Her hair was blonde and a little messy, nothing a brush and two minutes wouldn’t fix. Her face was round and innocent, her blue eyes blazing. It was a damn wonder that something bad hadn’t happened around here with her, but maybe nobody gave a shit about the little store. The woman behind the counter had no idea what her beauty and body possessed, and that was a little scary.

  But it wasn’t Brody’s problem.

  He walked down the second aisle and stopped at the chips and snacks. He touched a bag of corn chips and smiled. The date on the bag said they were best used three months ago. That didn’t surprise Brody. Everything in the store was probably expired. The back wall contained the refrigerated parts. The place used to sell milk, chocolate milk, orange juice, and even at one point, eggs. That part was shut off now, a stray gallon of who the fuck knows remaining. The other part of the refrigerator unit held drinks, off brand sodas, water, and energy drinks.

  Brody used to come here and rob the shit out of the place. The corn chips were his favorite. He’d fill up his shirt and his pants as much as he could, knowing it was his only chance at having a meal for the day. Old man Ronnie was always preoccupied with his small TV and game shows, a cigarette hanging from his mouth, his right hand scrubbing a penny against a lottery ticket. His fingertips used to be stained black from scratching the lottery tickets all damn day.

  There was one time when old man Ronnie caught Brody stealing. He’d gotten too cocky and tried to steal some ice cream from the case (which was now unplugged, empty, and had a faded cardboard sign of a man on a horse puffing a cigarette). As Brody left the store, ice cream plopped out of his shirt and old man Ronnie lost his shit. So Brody turned and pulled out a gun. That shut the old man up and Brody was never bothered again.

  Years hardened Brody’s heart but left a small soft spot for this place. The amount of shit he took was a lot, but more so, it kept Brody alive.

  Brody put the corn chips back and walked to the counter. The beautiful woman behind the counter was named Ana. The tilted name tag stuck to her tit said so.

  “Hey,” she said, her voice silky and innocent.

  “Hey yourself,” Brody said and grinned. “What are you still doing here, Ana? There’s got to be something more out there for you.”

  “Papa needs me here,” Ana said. “You know this place. It’s all he has. Besides me. If I left…”

  Ana shook her head.

  Brody had heard rumors of where Ana came from. Old man Ronnie had finally hit on a lottery ticket twenty years ago. Thirty grand or something like that. Not really a jackpot, but enough to make an addict feel really good. So good that the old man closed the store, put up a sign that read fuck you, I’m living large, and left. Brody was too young to know all of this, but he remembered his taking him to an auto garage instead of taking him to school, where a group of guys would talk, drink, and do some crazy shit. That’s where Brody heard the rumors about old man Ronnie. The old man went to Vegas and blew his thirty grand on gambling, pussy, and a hotel. If that wasn’t enough, a year later, a woman showed up with a baby. She put the carseat on the counter and told old man Ronnie the baby was his. She said it was bad enough her body was ruined, she didn’t need her mind and social life ruined by some kid that cried and shit all the time.

  Welcome to the world, baby Ana.

  But the old man took care of Ana. He loved her. And she turned out to be a beautiful young woman. Rightfully so, considering her father paid a lot to fuck her mother.

  “I get it, sweetheart,” Brody said. “Sorry I asked. Just making sure you know there’s a big world out there.”

  “Big and scary,” Ana said. “Then again, it’s pretty scary here sometimes.”

  “Quiet, huh?”

  Brody heard the sound of motorcycles and he backed up and looked out the front of the door. There were two motorcycles approaching. Brody recognized them quickly and saw they were Lane and Jack.

  Fucking prospects.

  They were like little puppies looking for their way home. Unable to make decisions on their own. Worried about dying and fantasizing about the life and the women.

  “Who is it?” Ana asked.

  She leaned forward and bit on her bottom lip. Her breasts pressed against her shirt. Brody stared only for a few seconds. Bad enough he had robbed old man Ronnie for years, he didn’t need to rob his daughter of her body and her perfect little cherry waiting to be popped.

  “It’s okay,” Brody said. He put a hand to Ana’s. “Just my guys. All good here, sweetheart. I just wanted a pack of smokes and to see the place.”

  “It’s not that,” Ana said. “I mean, I don’t like your guys, but they don’t come around a lot.”

  “Then what is it?” Brody asked.

  Ana took her hand away and backed up. Her fingers started to jump and she played with her hands. She looked down, her blonde hair falling in front of her face. She was innocent and scared. Brody looked around the store, wondering what the fuck was up.

  “Ana… if I’m in danger, or my guys are in danger… and you don’t tell me…”

  Ana put her hands to her ears. She shook her head.

  The sight made Brody freeze. He did that same goddamn thing, too. Not recently, no, but most of his childhood was spent like that. Either shoving stolen corn chips in his fucking mouth or covering his ears to block the sounds of hell all around him.

  Brody opened his mouth to yell
at Ana, but he heard a noise to his left. His head snapped and he eyed the back room. There used to be a door there, but now the door was missing and a black cloth hung in the doorway.

  Brody took one step and Ana yelled his name. He ignored her and she jumped up and over the counter. She knocked over a display of penny candies that littered the floor with the sound of glass pebbles. She grabbed at Brody and he pulled her close. There were tears in her eyes.

  “Holy shit,” Brody whispered. “What is it?”

  “Don’t let them touch me again. I’m sorry, Brody. This isn’t your…”

  Ggggaaahhh…

  Brody heard the noise before. That was the sound of someone bleeding and trying to take a breath.

  Old man Ronnie.

  “He’s dying,” Ana said.

  Fuck… all I wanted was a pack of smokes and to look at Ana’s tits.

  two.

  Carrying two cups of coffee, Heather kept her eyes straight as her heart raced. She had been doing this for so long now she shouldn’t have been nervous. But she was. She always was. This was her life, her dream, fuck, it was her career. From the time she was a little girl, she had wanted to be a doctor or nurse. At first, it was easy to be a doctor. She would sneak scissors, a needle, and thread from her mother’s sewing kit and get to work. She would cut open her stuffed animals and operate and sew them back up. Then came the tender age of ten when she was able to see a book where pictures of surgeries were shown. It then seemed impossible to try and deal with all that blood. It made Heather sweat (much like when she had to carry her two cups of coffee) and she decided to skip the doctor thing.

  From that point forward it was all about nursing. And she carried that dream through school, into college, and then she landed her dream job. She was a full-time nurse, running around like crazy in a busy hospital.

  And she was carrying two cups of coffee.

  She walked by a break station and two other nurses were standing there. Debbie and Marie. They were facing each other, each wearing glasses, Debbie pouring enough sugar into her coffee it would become a syrup. Marie drank her coffee black and never chewed gum or popped a mint afterward, leaving her with some wild, dark breath.

  They didn’t notice Heather and that was good.

  Heather knew the plan because she’d done it long enough that she swore her footprints were in the tiles. That’s how she feared she would get caught. They would just follow the path she created and bust her. That, of course, was insane. There were no footprints. And if there were, so much traffic came through these halls, it would be impossible to follow one set. Plus, there was a janitorial crew that cleaned the floors each night.

  The real worry was the cameras. They were everywhere in the fucking hospital. Sometimes Heather wanted to believe the cameras weren't real. They were there for show, to make the hospital look big, bad, and safe. But Heather had seen the security room before. When all this first started she had taken friendship with Larry, one of the security guards who was no longer with the hospital. He took her into the room and it was a wall of screens. Watching, monitoring, making sure the patients and the staff were protected.

  That made this little trip with the coffee even more risky and dangerous.

  At the end of the hall, Heather made a left turn. There was a small hallway that split into two wings of the hospital. A set of elevator doors was there, along with old leather benches on each side of the doors.

  Just as she was told, a man named Peter sat there. He wore a suit and tie, his hands folded, biting on his thumb. He looked sad and worried, and that was all part of the act.

  Heather swallowed and cleared her throat. “Mr. Peter?”

  He looked at Heather and hurried to stand. He looked behind him and then forward. As he approached, he asked, “How is she?”

  “I can’t discuss information,” Heather said. “I’m sorry. I brought you a coffee, like you asked for.”

  The cups were shaking in Heather’s hands. One cup was really coffee. It was warm, leaving her palm sweating. The other cup was not warm, at all. But it still left her feeling sweaty and guilty.

  Peter came to Heather and looked at the coffees. “Which one?”

  Heather put out her left hand and Peter took it. “If you need anything… the doctor…”

  “I can get in touch with him,” Peter said. His sad face offered a sly grin.

  The doctor… that’s what Lyle wanted to be called in all this. Not just because it fit perfectly in the whole hospital thing. But because he liked the feeling of power. He thought he was a doctor, a savior for life. A saver of life. Something like a God to those who needed his services.

  And yet, Heather was still the nurse. She was taking orders from someone else.

  “Thank you,” Peter said. He put a hand out and touched Heather’s shoulder. “Thank you for your kindness and patience.”

  The words made Heather feel sick. She blinked fast and forced herself to nod and to smile. “Of course, Mr. Peter. Just doing my job.”

  Peter turned and started to walk. He made it all of three steps and stopped. He turned slightly and took the top off the coffee cup. This made Heather gasp.

  What the hell is he checking for? It’s all in there…

  “Motherfucker,” Peter growled. He looked at Heather and showed her the cup. “Is this a fucking joke?”

  There was coffee in his cup.

  Heather gasped again. She’d given him the wrong cup.

  “Oh, no, Mr. Peter,” Heather said. “It’s right here.”

  Peter threw the coffee on the floor. The brown liquid hit the white tile and spread all over. It made Heather wonder if that’s what blood looked like on the floor. Probably not. Blood was thicker. It wouldn’t run so freely.

  She was scared to death now as Peter approached.

  He clamped a hand on her wrist and showed his teeth. “Open the fucking lid.”

  Heather took the lid off the coffee cup and sure enough, in that cup, there was the drugs. The little packets of what Lyle called revenue and life.

  “I’m sorry,” Heather whispered. “I gave you the wrong…”

  Peter’s other hand flew out and had Heather by the throat. He turned and pushed her against the wall. His body was then against hers.

  “I don’t allow fucking messes,” Peter growled. “This isn’t a game, you fucking bitch.”

  “I know,” Heather said. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.”

  “I don’t care. I almost left with a cup of fucking coffee. Shitty hospital coffee.”

  “It’s fixed,” Heather said. “You have the right cup now.”

  Peter took a deep breath. “Sometimes I wonder what Lyle sees in you. But I get it. You grovel so easily. You’d go right to your knees if I let you go. I bet I could take out my fat cock and you’d suck it. Because I’d tell you to and you’d fucking listen to me. Because that’s what you do. That’s why Lyle loves you. He gets to smack you around and then turn you around and fuck you. Those tits. That ass. Your stupid voice. It’s so tempting. If I hadn’t wasted all my time waiting for you, I’d turn you around right now.”

  Heather could just listen. That’s what she had trained herself to do. To just listen. If she believed any of it, it made everything worse. Right now, Peter wouldn’t hurt her. He wouldn’t try and touch her. He had a lot of money worth of drugs to take care of.

  When Peter let Heather go, she remained in the same position. That was something else she learned. Don’t fall. Don’t fight back. Don’t look. Don’t do a fucking thing.

  Peter took the cup from Heather’s hand. He put the lid back on it and lifted it to his lips. He blew into it and threw it back as though there were coffee in the cup. He smiled and walked away. As he moved around the puddle of coffee on the floor, he turned his head.

  “Excuse me, nurse?”

  “Yes…”

  “You might want to get someone to clean up this mess. Dangerous here. Someone could slip, fall, and break their neck. You wo
uldn't want that, would you?”

  “Of course not,” Heather said. “I’ll get it taken care of right away.”

  Peter lifted his coffee cup and smiled. “Thank you.”

  He went to the elevators, and once he was gone, Heather managed to breathe and run away from the scene. She knew running down the hall would attract attention, but then out of nowhere, a group of nurses appeared, also running.

  “Come on, Heather!” someone yelled.

  “What’s wrong?” Heather asked.

  “Those freaking biker gangs,” Debbie said. Her glasses bounced on her face. “There was some kind of explosion over there and one of the guys got damn near blown to pieces…”

  Another wonderful day.

  three.

  Normally, this type of thing wouldn’t be Brody’s problem. It was some guy getting jacked up in the back of his store. If anything, Brody would wait for it to end and then approach the attackers and make sure they knew this was Back Down Devil territory. Then he would collect what they had stolen.

  But this was old man Ronnie. A man who ran a store that kept Brody alive and fed. Plus, young, beautiful Ana deserved more than this.

  Don’t let them touch me again…

  That made Brody rage with jealousy and anger. That perfect little body of Ana’s wasn’t pure? He refused to believe that.

  “How many are there?” Brody asked.

  “Two,” Ana said. “Their names are Michael and Tiny.”

  “Tiny? Really?”

  “Tiny is fat,” Ana said. “It’s a joke name.”

  “Yeah, I get it. Stay the fuck here. If my guys come in, send them back. Tell them what’s happening. Do not come back there.”

  Brody took a step and Ana grabbed his arm. “Are you going to kill them?”

  “I’ll kill anyone in my way, sweetheart,” Brody said. “Anyone.”

  Brody walked toward the back. His mind told him to pull out his gun. To shoot first and ask later. It was about protecting the town of Frelen. But Brody’s heart and mind were a locked up tight battle.