Torch (Great Wolves MC - Ohio Chapter Book 5)

by Jayne Blue

  “Why haven’t they arrested him?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  “I need to see him,” I said.

  “You need to cool your heels at Shannon’s,” Nicole said. “She’s freaking out on me. They arrested Sticks in the sweep too.”

  “Is she going to be okay?” Amy asked. “Because I cannot have anyone losing it on me right now.”

  “I’ll make sure she’s okay,” I said.

  “Good,” Amy said. “We’ll get you over there right now.”

  I pulled out the burner phone Amy gave me. I punched in Torch’s number. It went straight to voicemail.

  “Is it safe for me to leave him a message?” I asked.

  “Better wait,” Amy said. “He’s probably going to switch phones too. He’ll reach out to you when he’s ready. Hang in there. He needs you. He may not want to admit it to himself, but he does.”

  I smiled. Torch’s words echoed through my heart. I was his.

  “Let’s get going,” Nicole said. “I’ll get you to Shannon’s. I’ll get word to Torch that’s where you are. You coming?”

  Amy waved her off. “I’m going to stay here for a little while. I just want a minute of quiet all to myself. I’ll be all right.”

  “Shannon’s place is five minutes away,” Nicole said. “I’ll drop Sydney off and come back for you.”

  Amy nodded. When I rose, I did the thing that seemed so natural. I went to Amy and hugged her. She hugged me back. She was small but felt so strong. As I pulled away, I realized she had the weight of the club resting on her shoulders. Everyone looked to her to hold it all together. Now more than ever. Torch once told me she was like the den mother. I couldn’t even imagine how hard this was for her. And I knew I might have to rely on her just as much.

  “Amy,” I said. “I need you to know that I’ll do whatever I can to help the club. I don’t know what that is. Maybe it’s just being there for Torch. But you can count on me.”

  She touched my arm and smiled. “I knew I could. The minute Torch started paying attention to you. Which, in all truth, was pretty much that first night you showed up at the club. It was my idea to have you come work for us.”

  My heart warmed. “Uncle George said it was because he wanted me to learn how the club operates if I was going to help him do things for you guys. He was excited about handing off some of the workload. I don’t know how my father managed to change his mind.”

  She sighed. “It doesn’t matter now. That’s not what’s important. Just get yourself to Shannon’s and lay low until you hear from either Torch or one of us.”

  “You promise you’ll let me know the second you hear anything?”

  “You’re on my list, Sydney. I promise.”

  With that, Nicole and I left her in that big, empty, unfinished house. It really was a beautiful spot. A quiet cul-de-sac with a tree-lined street and woods in the back. I slipped into the passenger seat of Nicole’s van. She drove out of the subdivision and headed east.

  Shannon’s house really was just five minutes away. She lived in an older neighborhood in a small, brick ranch. She was waiting on her front porch as Nicole pulled up.

  “You let me know if you need anything,” Nicole said as I got out. “Just see what you can do to keep that one from crawling out of her skin.” She gestured toward Shannon. I could see from here she’d been crying.

  I waved Nicole off and headed up the driveway. There was nothing to say. I met Shannon’s eyes and pulled her to me. I gave her a hug like I’d done with Amy. These women couldn’t have felt different, though. Amy seemed to be made of steel. Shannon crumpled against me and sobbed. It was such a change from the capable, tough woman I’d met on my first day at the Den. She’d run me ragged and almost lost her job over it. Now I suspected Sticks had had some part in keeping her there.

  Now, none of that mattered. It felt like a million years ago.

  “Have you heard from Sticks?” I asked as she led me inside. The place was sparsely furnished but impeccably clean. She had two bedrooms and showed me to the one closest to the bathroom. There was a double bed with one tall dresser. I realized I didn’t have much to put in it. I’d left my chest with most of my clothes back at the Den. I carried only my overnight bag and two changes of clothes.

  “Nothing,” Shannon said. “I can’t stand this. Do you think they’re hurting him?”

  “No,” I said. “Sticks is probably with the rest of the club. Colt will make sure they’re all taken care of. I may not be the biggest fan of my uncle’s right now, but he’s very good at what he does.”

  “Torch is patched,” she said. “Sticks is just a probie.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said, channeling Amy. “He’s part of the family.”

  Then neither of us could stand talking about our worries. We went into Shannon’s kitchen and started making dinner. It was simple. Just spaghetti and meatballs. We sat in companionable silence. Then exhaustion overtook me. I’d checked my new phone at least a thousand times. Nothing. No calls. No texts.

  I took a shower and climbed into Shannon’s guest bed. The sheets smelled clean and freshly bleached. But the bed was cold and empty. I longed to have Torch’s arms around me.

  I had no news except what was reported on the local television station. I hadn’t noticed at the time, but a news crew had filmed Colt and the senior leadership being led into the DEA van in shackles. Poor Amy. I hoped she wasn’t watching.

  In the early morning, I woke to a sound that restarted my heart. The powerful roar of a Harley’s engine as it pulled into Shannon’s driveway.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Torch

  It hadn’t been so long that I couldn’t remember the cold. In the few moments before I pulled into Shannon’s driveway and saw Sydney standing there, her face filled with love and concern, I could easily step into the skin of the man I was ... before.

  I cut the engine and dismounted. Sydney ran toward me, arms open. I got mine up just in time to hold her back.

  “Torch,” she said, her voice choked.

  Shannon stood in the doorway. She had the same broken look on her face.

  “Give me a minute,” I said to Sydney. I moved past her and went to Shannon.

  “He’s holding up okay,” I told her. “Sticks is tough. I’m sorry he’s caught up in this.”

  “When can I see him?” she asked.

  “It’s best you don’t,” I said. “Not for a while. I don’t know how deep this is going to get. Sticks doesn’t need to worry about you too. Just lay low. I’ll let you know when we can reopen the club.”

  “Torch,” she said. “I don’t have any other source of income. My rent’s due.”

  I came prepared for that. I reached into my jacket and pulled out a wad of cash. That was my job today. I had to make sure the friends of the club were taken care of. Then I needed them to fade into the woodwork for a while.

  I peeled off a thousand dollars and handed it to her. “That should cover you for a little bit. You go to Amy if you need something.”

  Tears fell down her face as she took the cash. It was all I could do for her.

  “Now, I need you to go inside. I’m gonna talk to Sydney now. You good with her staying here for now?”

  “Of course,” Shannon said, wiping her eyes.

  “Thank you. No matter what happens, the club doesn’t forget.”

  Shannon’s face went a little gray. She disappeared into the house and shut her front door.

  I didn’t like it here. It was too out in the open. I’d asked Shannon for privacy, but I knew she’d still watch from the window. The only thing was if I put Sydney on the back of my bike again, I didn’t know if I’d have the strength to do what needed to be done.

  I scanned the street. Shannon lived in an old neighborhood built right after WWII. At the end of her street was a bridge that went over a small viaduct. On the other side was a playground. Just three blocks. Far enough away to talk in peace. Close e
nough, she could walk back if she wanted to.

  “Come on,” I said. Without questioning me, Sydney climbed on the back of my bike. I took her to the bridge and cut the engine.

  I dismounted and walked to the bridge. The playground was empty now. It was supposed to storm within the hour.

  “Torch,” she said. “Amy told me they found heroin in the beer shipment that got delivered yesterday. The club is being framed. Right?”

  I turned to her. “It’s not us. You have my word on that. But it’s bad. That’s about all I can tell you. Things are going to get ... cloudy for a while. You need to be prepared.”

  “I am,” she said. “Amy filled me in on all of this. She thinks the feds will reach out to me for questioning.”

  “They might,” I agreed. “So you tell them everything you know. You tell them the truth.”

  “I don’t know anything,” I said. “Plus, I’ve worked for my uncle. I’m not even sure I can talk to anyone about club business. I’ll check with Uncle George, but I think it might be protected under attorney-client privilege anyway.”

  “Stay away from George,” I told her. “None of this changes what he did to you. I don’t trust him where you’re concerned. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  “Torch, I love you, but you can’t dictate how I deal with my own family. I want to help. I don’t care if he’s pissed at me for seeing you. He was starting to rely on me. I might be able to see angles he can’t.”

  “This isn’t your problem,” I said.

  Sydney took a step backward as if I’d delivered a punch.

  “Not my problem? Torch, I’m yours. You’ve told me that a dozen times. I am. But you’re mine too. I’m not bailing out on you.”

  I turned toward the water. I kept my hands clasped together. I needed to turn back to stone for this. It was too easy. I could almost feel my veins hardening.

  “I need you to go back to your parents,” I said. “That’s the best place for you. Lincolnshire is over. You tried it. It didn’t work out.”

  “What?” she shrieked. “What the hell are you saying?”

  The monster was there inside of me. I’d used it to protect myself. I’d used it to protect someone else. Now, to protect Sydney, I’d have to hurt her.

  “You were right,” I said. “You don’t belong here. I can’t be distracted anymore. It was fun while it lasted, but I have to go back to work, Sydney. I have to go to war.”

  “Distracted? I’m a distraction? Bullshit, Torch. You don’t have to do this. I know how to take care of myself.”

  “No,” I said. “You don’t. You like to pretend you do, but you’re still getting by because other people are carrying your water for you.”

  I couldn’t look at her. I gripped the bridge railing.

  “That’s not fair.”

  “It’s not?” I asked. “You’re homeless, Sydney. Shannon’s only letting you stay with her because the club asked her. You’re not friends.”

  I wanted her to hate me. It would be so much easier that way.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked.

  “It’s just me,” I said. “Do you get that? Colt. Kellan. Brax. Joker. E.J. Hell, even Sticks. They’re all inside now. Their bail hearing is set for tomorrow, but they’re not getting out. The rumor is the judge will deny bond. The club is blown up. It’s on my shoulders to keep it all together.”

  “I know that,” she said, putting a soft hand on my arm. I went stiff. “Torch, that’s why you need me. You know you do. Everyone else does too. They told me you’re different since I came here. Well, so am I. If you think you’re doing me some favor by pushing me away and shutting me out, you’re not. So you can quit trying. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Rage poured through me. I shut my eyes and saw fire. It burned through my shirt, licked at my skin. Pain seared my flesh then faded until I felt nothing.

  I turned to her. Sydney looked so small, so filled with pain of her own. Pain I caused. But she would heal.

  “I can’t have you here anymore. I’m not asking. Lincolnshire is my town. The club’s town. And you’re not welcome in it anymore. Go back to your daddy. I’ll buy you a plane ticket. I expect your ass to be gone.”

  She took another step back, shaking her head. “Don’t. Just stop. I’m not leaving, Torch.”

  “Yes, you are. I didn’t come out here to ask you. I came out here to tell you.”

  “You can’t do this without me!” she shouted. “I know you. Amy, Nicole, Colt. They all know you. And they know you do better with me around than you do without. I’m in this with you. I’m telling you you don’t get to push me away.”

  “You don’t know who the fuck I am!” I shouted. The monster reared his ugly head. His chains fell away.

  I grabbed Sydney by the shoulders and shook her hard. Once. She let out a strangled cry that tore through me.

  Even then. Even there. I wanted her. Fuck. I was rock hard. There was no one around. I could drive her to her knees. She would take me in her mouth. I could feel her heat even from here. She was mine. Her body. Her soul. I envisioned bending her over the bridge railing, sliding her jeans down, and claiming her. I didn’t give a fuck if someone drove by. Let them see what we were. Let them see who she belonged to.

  I let her go.

  “You don’t know shit about me, Sydney,” I said, my voice a low, flat monotone.

  “So tell me,” she challenged me, her own voice ragged. “Tell me what you think I can’t handle. Then I’ll tell you it doesn’t matter. I know what you want. You think I don’t see it in your eyes? You think I don’t feel it just as deeply as you do?”

  She came to me. She laced her hands through my hair, practically tearing it out by the root. God. I wanted her to. I wanted her to bring me pain that matched what I felt on the inside.

  “I would let you,” she said. “God help me. God help us both. But I would let you fuck me right here. I want you that much too. I was built for you. I know it. But you were built for me too, Torch.”

  So close. So hot. Need poured through me. I knew it was the only thing that would keep the monster at bay. So it was the thing I had to kill.

  I pushed her away from me. My vision clouded, turning almost white. The scars on my back tightened and burned.

  “It’s over,” I said. “I don’t need you anymore.”

  “Torch …” She tried to come toward me.

  “Torch,” I repeated. “You don’t even know my fucking name. You can’t handle what I really am.”

  “So tell me!” she shouted.

  “I’m a killer,” I said.

  “What are you talking about? You said …”

  “You asked me if I’d ever killed for the club. You never asked me if I killed at all.”

  Her eyes filled with tears.

  “Do you know where I was before I came back to this club?”

  “I don’t care,” she whispered.

  “You should care. I was incarcerated. From the time I was twelve years old, I was in and out of youth detention. When I was fifteen, I went to prison for taking another man’s life. They tried me as an adult. I spent five years in a hell hole, Sydney.”

  “No,” she whispered. I knew it. I knew she wouldn’t be able to handle the truth when I finally gave it to her.

  “His name was Carl Barrett. He was my foster father. He was a bastard. A fucking cop.”

  “He abused you,” she said.

  “That’s a pretty word for what he did. Yeah. He beat me. And he beat her. He took what he wanted from her and would leave her crying. Bleeding. I was the one who would put her back together. Because of who he was, he was protected.”

  “Your foster mom,” Sydney said.

  “Her name was Irene.”

  “Torch,” she said. She tried to come closer. Tried to touch me with a tender hand now. I wouldn’t have it. I closed my hand around her fingers, almost hard enough to hurt, but then I let go.

  “One night, I’d had enough. He hurt me
one too many times. So I ended it.”

  I curled my fists. I could see Carl’s face as I threw the first punch. He was drunk. I’d taken him off guard. If I hadn’t, I know in my heart I was the one who would have died that night.

  “Over and over,” I said. “I felt the bones snap. First on his face. Then in my hands. I kept hitting.”

  “You didn’t think you had a choice,” she said. “You were trying to protect her.”

  “Keep telling yourself that,” I said. “That’s what my lawyer finally got my parole board to believe. The club paid somebody off, though. I’m sure of it. Ace was dead by then, but Amy made sure Catman Wade, the former prez, did what Ace would have wanted.”

  “Torch,” she said. “That doesn’t make you a monster. You were a kid. You were fighting for your life. For Irene’s life.”

  I went still and cold. “He was alive when I tied him up,” I said. “He was begging for his life. I got kerosene out of the garage. She had an old-fashioned lamp. I told her to leave. I told her to go over to her sister’s. Irene didn’t know Carl was tied up in the bedroom.”

  “Torch …”

  “No,” I said. “You need to know what I am. First, I set his feet on fire. When he stopped screaming, I put it out. Then I burned his hands. I told him he’d never be able to use them to hurt anyone else again. I meant for him to live. I didn’t care what happened to me. I knew I was already lost. But she’d be safe.”

  “Oh Torch,” she said. “Tell me your name. I don’t want to call you that anymore.”

  She got it now. At least, she thought she did.

  I locked my gaze with her. “Torch is who I am. Catman gave me the nickname, and I kept it because it is who I am. I would have kept going. But I looked away for one second. Some of the kerosene spilled. Do you know what burning flesh smells like?”

  “Stop. I don’t want to hear anymore,” she said.

  There it was. The fear in her eyes. The contempt.