Blaze: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World)

by Delaney Foster

  I head back to my office and back to the stack of files that need to be taken care of. Rosie, our administrative assistant, smiles and waves as I walk past her desk. I glance at the framed photo of her with her husband and their furbabies and smile. Across the bottom of the wooden frame in perfect script is the word Family.

  There’s no perfect description of the word, no box for it to fit in. For some it’s a soul mate and a ball of fur. For others it’s Sunday dinners gathered around the table and passing the gravy. For a lot of us, it’s those people who come into our lives by chance and not by blood. But for everyone, family is everything.

  There’s no doubt Levi is the brother Blaze was talking about last night when he told me about his nanny. I can’t help but wonder why he never mentioned Blaze or if he knows what happened with Liam and the brewery. What will Blaze say when I tell him I met his brother? Will he already know? Is he the reason Levi is here?

  Or does family mean something completely different for the two of them?

  The next day, two hours before my shift begins, I’m walking through the door at HoH. It’s eerily quiet when I enter the living room. Then, here it comes. Two steps in and it’s raining Nerf bullets. Little Styrofoam darts fly through the air and across the room from all directions. Some hit me in the chest. Some miss me entirely. Brody appears from behind the wall leading up the stairs and fires off a round of about ten bullets into the kitchen. I catch Zeke duck behind the kitchen island and Ryder bolt from the living room into the half bath in the hallway.

  Great.

  I’ve stepped into a war zone, and our next biggest sponsor will be here in a few short hours.

  “Cease fire,” I yell out, holding one hand over my face because I just saw Jacob peek around a corner with one of those guns that shoots the little yellow balls. I know from experience that one shot in the face with those things will have you saying words that would make a sailor blush.

  “Hey, look who’s here early,” Brody says, breathless as he comes into the living room from the stairway. “What happened? You miss me?” He drops his gun to his side then lifts his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. That must have been one intense Nerf war.

  I set my keys and cell phone on the console table by the front door. “We have a company coming for dinner.” I hold up the handful of plastic grocery bags I’m carrying in my other hand.

  “So, you didn’t miss me?”

  I shove his shoulder with my hand and roll my eyes. “If I say yes, will you help me clean?”

  He shrugs. “Maybe.”

  “Okay, then yes. I missed you.”

  He tosses the Nerf gun onto the sofa then cups my face with both hands. “I knew it.”

  “It smells like sweaty socks and fart in here.”

  Brody lets go of my face and sniffs his armpits. “Nope. Not me.” He glances across the room at Zeke. “You been rolling around in the dirty laundry again?”

  Zeke laughs and shakes his head.

  “Not him either. You must be imagining things, babe. Now, tell me about this company we’re supposed to be having.”

  I walk to the kitchen to grab the lighter for a candle. “Kai invited Levi Abbott to visit the house tonight. He’s going to be our new sponsor.”

  He follows me like a kid waiting for a snack. “Levi Abbott? As in NASCAR driver Levi Abbott? As in the best fucking legend to ever sit behind a steering wheel Levi Abbott?”

  I slap my hand over his mouth and cut my eyes toward the hallway. “Language.”

  Brody licks the palm of my hand, making me jerk it away from his mouth. Nasty fucker.

  He smirks. “They hear worse language on YouTube.”

  Worse than “fucking”?

  I open a drawer and grab two cleaning cloths. “Well then someone needs to monitor what they watch on YouTube.”

  “Levi Abbott is really coming here? Tonight?”

  “Yes. He’s really coming here.” I toss one of the cloths at his chest then open the cabinet with the cleaning supplies. “You start upstairs. I’ll work down here.”

  An hour and a half later, the house is as clean as it’s going to be for now. The candle I lit earlier fills the whole downstairs area with the warm scent of caramel and vanilla. The main parts are spotless—toilets, kitchen, and living room. The boys cleaned their rooms, and everyone has showered. That’s all that matters. I doubt Levi will be walking through here with a white glove anyway.

  Brody grabs a bottle of water from the fridge while I cut up the rotisserie chicken I picked up on the way here. “Wait, so, you’re cooking too?” He steals a chunk of meat and shoves it in his mouth. “Jack-fucking-pot.”

  “You didn’t think I was going to let him think we ordered pizza every night, did you?”

  “Hey! I don’t always order pizza.” He winks. “Sometimes we have grilled cheese.”

  I whisk the mixture of condensed milk and ranch dressing mix currently boiling on the stove and glance at him side-eye. “Did your parents have you on purpose?”

  He brings his hand to his chest the way someone would if they’d just been shot in the heart. “Ouch, Addy. I thought we were friends.”

  “We are friends. Best friends.” I grab a package of bacon from the fridge. Brody is leaning against the counter, watching me whirl around the kitchen like a woman on a mission. No, Brody, I don’t need any help. Thank you. “That’s why I can ask you things.”

  “I feel something heavy coming.”

  “How do you feel about casual sex?”

  He pushes off the counter and stands directly in front of me, grabbing me by a belt loop and pulling me toward him. “I mean, we’d have to set some ground rules like no fucking in the house when the boys are home, but I’m down if you are.”

  Did I say we’re best friends out loud? Because if not, I’m totally taking that shit back ASAP.

  I shove at his chest and roll my eyes. “Not with me, you dimwit. In general. Have you ever just had sex with someone and nothing more?”

  Why am I even asking him? He’s wearing calf-high white socks, baby blue shorts, a white tee, and black Crocs with tropical flowers on them for fuck’s sake. It’s a wonder he gets laid at all.

  “Like a one-night-stand?” he asks.

  “Something like that.”

  “Why?” Suddenly, his expression turns serious. He’s in big brother mode now.

  “Just answer the question.”

  “Are you thinking about fucking Jake?” His eyes grow wide as he slams his hand down on the granite countertop. “Holy shit, you’re going to fuck Jake.”

  “You think you could yell that a bit louder? I don’t think the neighbors heard.” I coat the bottom of a glass pan with the milk/ranch mixture. “And no. I’m not fucking Jake.”

  The doorbell rings. “Shit, he’s early.” The chicken crack lasagna still has a good twenty-five minutes before it’s ready to eat. I haven’t even put it in the oven yet. We agreed on six o’clock. It’s five thirty. I’m buying Kai a watch for Christmas. “Make sure the boys are ready. I’ll get the door.”

  “This conversation isn’t over.” He leans in and taps my chin with his fingertip. A slow smile spreads across his face. “But I can tell you this. Sex is never casual. Understand that, and you have your answer.” Then he disappears up the staircase.

  Liam and I spent most of the day wiping down walls to get rid of the black smoke and soot. Four buckets of water, eight sponges and two bottles of rubbing alcohol later, we’re finally finished for the day. The ceilings will take another two days because they’re cypress, and that’s an entirely different animal. After that, there’s nothing left for the kid to do.

  The past couple of weeks have gone by too fast. In a few more days, the contractors will take over, and that will be that. There will be no more reasons to see Liam.

  Or Adrienne.

  Unless she decides to call me. Which she hasn’t. It’s been almost two days since she told me she needed a minute. If you ask me, forty-eight hou
rs is a hell of lot longer than a “minute.”

  Two-thousand, eight-hundred and eighty minutes, as a matter of fact. Not that I’m counting.

  “The architect will have the plans ready for you to pick up first thing in the morning, and the contractor will be here tomorrow afternoon at two,” Hector tells me as he tucks his cell phone into the back pocket of his jeans. “And I have a date in two hours, so I’m out.”

  I glance at the digital clock on the wall. It’s five o’clock. Brody will be here any minute to get Liam.

  “Where’d you find this one? Plenty of Fish? Or Tinder?”

  He flips me off. “Trader Joe’s, motherfucker.”

  Hector could stand up in the middle of church and piss in the baptismal pool, and by the end of the sermon have a date with the pastor’s daughter. The guy should write a playbook. It’s fucking nuts.

  “I need you here early tomorrow.”

  He answers with a salute then climbs in his Carolina blue Corvette and drives off.

  “You thirsty?” I ask the kid then grab two glasses before he can answer.

  He nods, and I fill both glasses with Sprite and hand him one over the bar. He downs it in four long gulps.

  “Damn. Rough day?” I laugh and grab his glass to refill it.

  “I think it’s the smell.”

  I inhale a deep breath, noting that it does kind of smell like that moment right before a nurse is about to give you a shot. At least it doesn’t smell like smoke anymore. For now.

  “You’re doing a great job, man. I just wanted you to know that.”

  He takes a sip then sets his glass on the bar. “It keeps me busy. Keeps my mind off stuff.”

  Guilt.

  It’s a mother.

  I feel guilty for knowing that this was meant to be his punishment but ended up being his escape, and I’m about to fucking end it all. I have two days to come up with something for him to do while keeping him out of the contractor’s way. If I can’t, then I’ll tell him. But he’s just starting to open up, and I’m not about to ruin this moment.

  “What if we hung out sometime? You know, when the brewery is back to normal.”

  Jesus, I might as well have pulled up in a white van and offered the kid some candy. Thankfully, he doesn’t latch onto the creepy pedo-vibe. Instead, he grins. Like, fucking beams from ear-to-ear.

  “You mean like play basketball and stuff?” he asks.

  “Yeah. Maybe I’ll have the guys put up a goal while they’re re-doing the place.”

  Why the fuck not? Hector played college ball. He’d be ecstatic.

  Another glance at the clock. It’s five-fifteen and still no Brody. It’s not like him to be late. Usually the fucker’s twenty minutes early, chatting my ear off while we try to finish up. I call his cell. No answer.

  Weird.

  “Did Brody say anything about me bringing you home today?”

  Liam shakes his head. “No, why?”

  “Because it looks like that’s what I’m doing.”

  Thirty minutes later, we pull up to the house. There’s still no return call from Brody, but there’s a car I don’t recognize parked next to the curb. Adrienne’s car is in the driveway next to Brody’s. A sinking feeling settles in my gut, and I hope nothing bad has happened to one of the other boys.

  I stop Liam as soon as he gets out of the car. “You wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  He leans against my car door, and I walk to the front door. If something is going on, I don’t want him walking in during the middle of it.

  Brody answers and immediately flinches. “Oh shit, dude. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s cool.” I look over his shoulder into the living room. “Is everything okay?”

  He opens the door wider, allowing me to step inside. I wave to Liam, letting him know it’s okay to go ahead and come in. Then it all happens in slow motion.

  Adrienne comes from upstairs, laughing as her delicate fingertips trail the wooden banister. She looks over her shoulder and smiles at the man coming down the stairs behind her.

  “If you’re half as good at cooking as you are at everything else, I can’t wait for a taste,” he says. It’s a voice I know all too well.

  Levi fucking Abbott.

  My brother.

  He’s here. He’s with her.

  She stops at the bottom of the stairs as soon as she sees me, causing him to bump into her from behind. He places his hand on her hip to steady them both. My eyes fall to where his fingers dig into her hipbone. Where my hand was not so long ago. Touching her the same way. What. The. Fuck.

  So… this is why she hasn’t called.

  My chest heaves.

  My pulse pounds.

  My jaw clenches.

  Then my eyes meet hers.

  “Blaze?” My brother’s voice is a blur, like he’s talking underwater, muffled by the rage boiling in my bloodstream.

  It’s like a bad fucking nightmare playing on a goddamn loop. I can’t do this again.

  “Hey man, you good?” I faintly hear Brody ask.

  I never take my eyes off Adrienne.

  “Yeah. I’m good.” I move my gaze to Liam, who is standing there watching the whole scene as if he’s witnessing a train wreck. That’s exactly what this is, a fucking train wreck. “See you tomorrow, Liam.”

  Then I walk right back out the door.

  She follows me.

  “Blaze,” she yells, but I don’t stop walking. “Blaze, wait.” She grabs my arm, and I swear to God it feels like she’s electrocuting me.

  I freeze where I stand but don’t turn around.

  “Turn around and look at me.”

  It’s too much. It’s too familiar. My head begins to pound, so I squeeze my eyes closed. I feel myself shutting down from the inside out.

  “Dammit, Blaze, turn around and let me explain.”

  She’s not letting me go. I don’t want her to.

  I do want her to.

  I don’t know what the hell I want anymore.

  I open my eyes and spin around to face her, my chest heaving and my breath loud. “Let you explain what? Why you didn’t call me? Or how you know my brother? Or why you forgot to relay that tidbit of information when we met? Or maybe you’d rather explain what he thinks you’re good at and what you were doing upstairs with him?”

  She takes a careful step forward and kills me with those eyes full of sadness, full of hope. That look, it’s like a sucker punch to the gut, and it almost brings me to my knees. “All of it. I can explain all of it,” she says.

  “Three years. That’s how long it’s been since I let anyone in.” That’s how long it’s been since I’ve wanted anyone. I grit my teeth. “He’s my goddamn brother, Adrienne. Of all people.”

  She takes another step. “I know.” The very sound of her voice gives me goosebumps. “I just met him yesterday. He wants to sponsor our house. I don’t know why or how. I just know that’s why he’s here.”

  What the fuck? Levi wants to sponsor House of Hope? Why? When did he become the Good Samaritan?

  I believe her. Maybe that’s me being stupid. Maybe I’m falling for the same old shit, different pussy. But I believe her.

  Adrienne reaches for something on the front of my shirt. Lint. Grass. A bug. I don’t care. I just know her gentle touch sends me reeling. “I was introducing him to the boys. Showing him their rooms.” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. I look down at that lip and think about how badly I want to be the one to bite it, how much I want to taste her. Just once. “And I haven’t called, not because I didn’t want to, but because I haven’t let anyone in for a long time either. You scare the shit out of me, Blaze Abbott.” She flicks whatever it was she plucked off my shirt into the air then rests her hand on my chest.

  She wasn’t blowing me off. She was protecting herself… From me.

  Her voice is gentle and calming. Her touch is soft and subtle, the complete opposite of everything that I am. If this is how she handles the boys in
this house, it’s no wonder they love her so much. She’s a motherfucking angel in the flesh, a goddamn immortal sent here to shake me to my core. She’s good. Too good. The kind of good that a man like me would ruin for anyone else.

  A beat passes. Then two. Three.

  I swallow. “You should say no to my offer. As a matter of fact, I should say it for you.” I hook a finger under her chin and force her head up, but her gaze falls somewhere over my shoulder. “Because I’m not good for you, Adrienne. I’m not good for anyone. I don’t give. I can’t. It’s just not something I’m capable of.” She makes eye contact with me, and I almost fucking break. “I take. That’s what I do. I take and take until there’s nothing left.” Memories of red and blue flashing lights and sirens and stretchers keep coming in, one after the other, until my lungs burn and my chest feels tight—memories that remind me exactly why this is a bad idea. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Her hand slides up over my shoulder then to my cheek. She leans in and whispers, “I want you to hurt me.”

  Awwww fuck.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

  Yeah, she just said that.

  I rake my fingers through my hair then rub the nape of my neck with one hand. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

  She drops her hand and squares her shoulders. “I mean it. How’s that for an answer?”

  Good God, this woman.

  “You should go back inside.”

  “Is that what you really want? For me to go inside?” Her voice is low and soft as she takes a step back.

  My eyes take in the way her legs look underneath her light pink sundress and the way the swell of her breasts rises and falls with every breath she takes and how one of the thin straps is starting to fall off her shoulder. I want to reach across and pull it back in place, but I know the minute I touch her, I won’t want to stop.

  Seconds pass.

  Tick.

  Tick.

  Tick.

  Dread curls and twists in my stomach. I want to kick my own ass for what I say next.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I guess it’s settled.” She smiles, and I smile back as though the look in her eyes isn’t tearing me apart.