Wild Blaze Page 3

  His nightly nightcap of a bottle of vodka.

  Heather had no choice now but to approach. If she tried to leave, he’d get her. He would always get her. That’s just how her life was now.

  Another thing Heather knew was that she wasn’t supposed to talk to Lyle until he spoke with her. So she walked in uncomfortable silence, his eyes burning at her. He didn’t speak to her until she was on the porch and just a few inches away.

  “How was your day?” he asked, his rough smokers voice sounding worse than it did yesterday.

  “Busy,” Heather said. “Bloody. There was a guy that came in…”

  “I don’t give a fuck,” Lyle said. “You’re not a doctor. You’re not like me. You don’t understand the feeling. Get it?”

  Heather nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re always sorry,” Lyle said. “You live your life in sorry.”

  Heather didn’t speak anymore. Nothing she was going to say right now would make Lyle happy.

  “Did you see Peter today?”

  “Of course,” Heather said. “All was delivered.”

  “Any messes?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You fucking lying bitch,” Lyle growled.

  “No. He got his… order.”

  “After you fucked it up. You know what that cost me?”

  “It was a quick mistake,” Heather said. “He took the wrong cup.”

  “It was his fault?” Lyle asked.

  “No, of course not. It was my fault. I did it. I fucked up. But I fixed it quick.”

  “I should fucking kill you for that.”

  “He put me against a wall, Lyle. He tried to choke me. He wanted me to… touch him…”

  Lyle growled and threw the bottle of vodka to the ground. It shattered and he went nose to nose with Heather.

  “Don’t fucking tell me that shit, you fucking whore. You wanted it. You wanted him to fuck you. Didn’t you? You wanted to see what his cock looked like. You fucking almost screwed a deal for me today. Because you’re too worried about that nursing crap. There’s, what, twenty of you there? Don’t care so much. Worry about me. My business. What I’m giving you.”

  Lyle shook his head and turned around. He walked to the door. Heather wasn’t sure if she’d be allowed inside tonight. Not that it would be such a bad thing. Heather wouldn’t mind a night alone.

  “I’m sorry,” Heather whispered.

  She had no idea why she said it again. It only pissed Lyle off. He spun around, but Heather didn’t have the chance to see his face again. Instead, she was met with the back of his hand as she tumbled off the porch to the ground.

  five.

  “I’m going to wipe them all the fuck out myself,” Gaige said, his words slurring bad. He stood from his barstool and almost fell. “Fuckers…”

  Brody was there to catch Gaige and point him in the direction of his room. Gaige had a woman now and she could clean up after the mess he was going to make.

  Behind Brody sat Blaine. He was calm, quiet, but he was angry. Hell, they were all angry. The night was carrying on and nobody could find rest. Three prospects were the at the hospital watching over Erik while the patched in members were in the clubhouse, drinking wildly, trying to find a way to suppress their anger.

  “It was fucking Eight Under,” Griffin said. He pointed a finger at Nate. “I’m fucking tell you, bro.”

  “Get your finger out of my face,” Nate said.

  Brody saw what was about to happen and he started to move. Something grabbed and pulled him back into the bar. His back hit and pain seared through his legs. He saw that Blaine had grabbed him.

  “Let them go,” Blaine said. “They need it. We all fucking need it, brother.”

  Brody gritted his teeth. The anger flowing through his body felt two fold. He didn’t necessarily believe in fate or any of that other bullshit. Not religion either because death was coming whether you gave a shit about it or not. Nothing would save anyone. Death was the finale. Death was the grand goodbye. But something had taken him to that little shit store today. He saved old man Ronnie’s life and saved Ana. All the while shit was going down at the clubhouse.

  A fucking bomb?

  That was serious shit. That was a deadly move to make on the club.

  “Don’t tell me what you think,” Nate said. “We’re not there yet. We’re letting it sink in.”

  “Fuck you, Nate. This is real. This is…”

  Nate grabbed Griffin and lifted him off the ground. Nate had a good six inches, if not more, on Griffin. He held him nose to nose.

  “Don’t fucking point at me,” Nate growled.

  “Then do something about it,” Griffin said.

  “Christ,” Brody said. He shook his head.

  Nate put Griffin down and Griffin took a quick swing. He hit Nate in the face. Nate stumbled back and took a return swing at Griffin. Griffin spun around and fell to his knees. The entire clubhouse then came to life. Everyone rushed at each other. Everyone wanted a chance to get out some of the anger they were filled with.

  Brody looked at Blaine. “Should we?”

  Blaine stood and smiled. “Don’t hit me in the balls, okay? I plan on fucking five women tonight.”

  “You’re a sick motherfucker, Blaine. Like… something is seriously wrong with you.”

  “I know that,” Blaine said. “It just makes life…”

  Brody threw a fist. He smacked Blaine in the nose, drawing blood.

  Damn, that felt good.

  Blaine lunged at Brody, eyes wide, going for his throat. They fell back and Brody tripped on a barstool. They were then on the ground, grappling at each other, trying to take shots. Blaine punched Brody in the ribs. The rings on his fingers hurt like fucking hell when he punched. Brody threw his head forward and smashed it against Blaine’s face. Blaine let out a scream.

  Then a gun went off.

  The entire place fell silent. Blaine still had a hand to Brody’s throat still. Brody knocked it away and scrambled to his feet.

  Miller walked from the meeting room through the clubhouse, handgun pointed in the air.

  “Next shot is someone’s fucking head,” Miller said. “Got it?”

  Nobody said a word.

  Miller walked to a pool table and leaned against it, arms crossed.

  “I know we’re all fucking angry right now. That’s fine. We were attacked. One of our brothers was almost killed. We’re going to fix this. We’re going to seek our revenge. We’re going to make whoever did this pay. But it’s not going to happen tonight. And not like this. Get a fucking drink, get a fucking reliever, and get to your room. Tonight is done. I see anyone else fighting each other, I’ll put you in the hospital.”

  Brody wiped his bloody lip and approached Miller. The rest of the clubhouse was doing what their President had commanded to do.

  “What is it?” Miller asked.

  “I’m going to the hospital,” Brody said. “There’s nothing here for me right now.”

  “We have prospects…”

  “They are assholes,” Brody said. “They left me hanging today when I was helping a friend. You trust them in a hospital? If someone wanted to come and finish the job…”

  Miller gritted his teeth. “You been drinking?”

  “No.”

  “Go then. I don’t care. Keep an eye on the prospects then.” Brody started to move and Miller grabbed him. “You know, being there isn’t going to fix a thing.”

  “It’s a place to think,” Brody said. “I wasn’t there when it happened.”

  “Like you could have done something?”

  Brody looked at Miller. “I could have been there. But instead I was fucking around with memories.”

  “Saving lives,” Miller said.

  “Just let me do what I have to do here, Miller.”

  “Go,” Miller said. “Be safe out there, brother.”

  Brody welcomed the calm night the way Blaine welcomed half naked, mostly drunk women.
He rode the streets of Frelen looking around. That was useless though. Whoever had fucked with the club wouldn’t show their faces again. This was well planned and well executed.

  At the hospital, Brody went up the same elevator as before. The doors opened and nobody was standing there looking at him. He smiled when he thought of the pretty nurse. Her eyes were a radiating blue color, so bright and happy. The rest of her body in those scrubs wasn’t half bad either.

  Brody went to Erik’s room and found the prospects sitting in chairs, nodding off. He walked up and kicked their boots, waking them up.

  “What’s happening here?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” Lane said. “Just checking on him when they need to.”

  “I want you three to take a walk. Go through the entire hospital. See if anything looks off.”

  “Off?” Jack asked.

  “Off,” Brody said. “Check to see if someone’s waiting to fucking kill us. Okay?”

  Jack put his hands up and started to move.

  When Lane tried to walk by, Brody grabbed him. “Take care of that thing for me?”

  “The brass knuckles?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Yeah,” Lane said. “That was kind of sick, man.”

  “Good.”

  “Jack threw up. Like four times. The first time he threw up on the guy’s legs.”

  Brody laughed. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Then the suit and tie threw up and passed out.”

  “Did the old man watch?”

  “Yeah. He smiled. Then he crawled out of the room because he was going to throw up.”

  “So you really shoved those brass knuckles up Tiny’s ass?”

  “You told me to,” Lane said.

  Brody nodded. Maybe the prospects weren’t completely useless after all.

  Once alone, Brody stood at the door to Erik’s room. He put a hand to it and lowered his head. The imagery and feeling of it was way too familiar to him.

  I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I couldn’t have stopped it. I’m…

  Brody sucked in a breath and went to a chair.

  He sat down and felt way too damn comfortable for his own good.

  He closed his eyes, telling himself it was just for a minute.

  That minute would take him into the morning.

  six.

  Brody opened his eyes and saw a beautiful woman crouching before him. He blinked fast, cleared his throat, and looked down to see if his pants were open. It wouldn’t have been the first time he woke up to find someone taking care of his cock, but that wasn’t the case this time.

  This time the face was familiar and she wasn’t sucking him off.

  It was the nurse from yesterday.

  She held a cup of coffee and was smiling.

  “Sorry to wake you,” she said. “You were snoring and my boss was getting pissed.”

  Brody looked around and realized he was in the hospital. He saw the three prospects standing down the hall a little ways.

  “Is Erik alive?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” the nurse said. “He’s okay. Stable now. It’s going to take time, you know? His body has to heal itself. And we have him on a lot of pain meds to keep him relaxed. He doesn’t feel a thing right now. He’s not awake.”

  “Okay,” Brody said. He ran a hand down his face. “Fuck, I can’t believe I slept here last night.”

  “Brought you some coffee,” the nurse said.

  “Thanks.” Brody took it. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  “Heather.”

  “Heather, nice to meet you, again. I’m Brody. That guy in there…”

  “I know,” Heather said. “You’re part of a gang, right?”

  “A gang?” Brody asked. “No, not like that. We’re a club. We’re brothers. We take care of each other. Protect each other. You look a little afraid right now. Because of us?”

  “I’ve heard things,” Heather said.

  “Good,” Brody said. “They’re all true. We’re outlaws. We’re assholes. We cause trouble. If that bothers you, then keep moving on. I need to talk to my prospects here.”

  Heather turned her head and Brody noticed something about her face and neck. It was a sight he’d seen many times before.

  “Okay,” Heather said. “Enjoy the coffee the best you can. It’s terrible, but it’s coffee.”

  She started to walk and Brody jumped to his feet. He grabbed at her hand, taking it. Her hand quickly wrapped around his. She was secretly seeking a comfort that was dangerous and tempting.

  Holy fuck, man. Let her go right now. Let her walk the fuck away. Let her go live in the hell she chose…

  Heather looked at him. “What?”

  “When are you coming back here?”

  “I’ll make my rounds.”

  “I’ll be waiting,” Brody said.

  He let Heather go. She took a couple stuttering steps and Brody smiled. Damn, that kind of power was nice. But what was even nicer was Heather’s ass in the white pants she wore. He made fists and waited until Heather was out of sight before he walked to the prospects.

  “Here,” he said to Lane. “Got you some coffee.”

  Lane took the cup and raised an eyebrow. “What did you do to it?”

  “Nothing. It’s hospital coffee. I’d rather drink piss.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Jack said.

  “Is that so?” Brody asked. “Heard you threw up a few times yesterday.”

  Jack lowered his head.

  Lane laughed.

  “You two assholes shouldn’t have let me sleep,” Brody said. “I’m here to watch over my brother. Our brother.”

  “You were fine,” Lane said. “We walked the hospital for hours and found nothing. I think whoever did the bombing made their point and are gone now.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Brody said. “But that’s a club issue. Right now, we have to hope Erik finds a way through this. Both of you get the fuck out of here and get some sleep. I’ll call Miller for more bodies.”

  Brody walked away and grabbed his cell. He made a call to Miller to relay all the information he had so far. Miller didn’t really do much of the same because there wasn’t much to be discussed at this second. Miller’s mind sounded like it was going in to a thousand different directions. He mentioned something about drugs that caught Brody off guard. The chief of police, a good friend to Back Down Devil - Chief Jerry - had made a tip call to Miller about some dealings going on in Frelen.

  Great, drugs.

  That’s the last thing the town and the MC needed.

  But that was the story of their life though. That old saying when it rains, it fucking pours. That’s just how it went. When the days were good and quiet, the beer cold, the whiskey smooth, the pussy delicious, those were the days they all took care of. But most of the days were filled with the makings of war.

  Brody ended the call and walked to Erik’s room. He put his hand to the door like he’d done before and closed his eyes. Just once, he wanted to save someone. Not himself. Fuck himself. That was a hopeless battle. But just to save someone.

  “Uh, excuse me?”

  Brody turned and the nurse was there again. Her eyes, her lips, her hair, pulled back but would look so much better let down. It all struck Brody like a burning match.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Are you okay?” the nurse asked.

  “Fine.”

  “You can go in there, if you want. There’s no restriction. Plus, I’m here.”

  “I’m good,” Brody said. “Just… paying respects.”

  “Praying?”

  Brody smiled. “Never understood that. Asking something of someone you never met. Someone that floats around and is supposed to help out but leaves strings of hell all around waiting to be pulled.”

  The nurse swallowed hard. “Sorry.”

  She started to move and Brody attacked her wrist and hand again, pulling her. He reached out and took a chance to touch her face
. It was a bold move, one that Heather jumped back from. But it wasn't that she didn’t want him to touch her, it was what he’d find if he did.

  She stepped back and Brody went toward her. “What’s wrong?”

  “What are you doing?”

  Just trying to save someone, once.

  Brody’s eyes were on her. Right on Heather. He couldn’t do dick for Erik. He could only help Ana and old man Ronnie so much. But Heather. She was different.

  “You’re hiding something, sweetheart.”

  “My life isn’t your business,” Heather said. “I’m a nurse. Who the hell…”

  Brody shook his head. “You’re attacking me. I didn’t do anything.”

  “Don’t touch me,” Heather said. “Don’t even come near me. I’ll have you kicked out of here.”

  Heather shook her hand free of Brody’s grip and started to run down the hall. Brody waited a few seconds, head nodding. He’d seen this act all before. So many times. He looked back to the door to Erik’s room.

  Nothing to do there.

  Miller was sending in some more prospects to watch the room and hospital.

  Brody started to walk and then caught himself in a jog. He took the corner of the hall and put on the brakes as he skidded a few feet. Heather stood against the wall, her head back, eyes blinking fast.

  “Too afraid to cry?” he asked.

  “Who the hell are you?” Heather asked. “Go away.”

  “What if I don’t? What are you going to do?”

  Heather looked at him. Her eyes were welled with tears. This time when he reached out, Heather didn’t stop him. He wiped away a tear before it could hit her cheek.

  “I’m sorry,” Brody said, “but I know the look. I’ve lived it.”

  “What look?”

  Brody reached and took out his gun. Heather gasped but didn’t freak out. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen a gun before.

  “Give me your hand,” he said. Slowly, Heather offered her hand. Brody put the gun to her hand. “Take this. Shoot me if I go too far.”

  “Too far?”

  Brody inched closer to Heather. He wasn’t just attracted to her. It went deeper. Wild and instant. The sudden urge and need to protect her was like something Brody hadn’t felt in a long time.