Consume Me Page 18

  “Fine,” is all she says, but she says it looking right into Pops’ eyes. She doesn’t release from me though.

  “You sure you think they’re into drugs?” Pops asks her.

  “I have no idea. They kept all business out of the house. My mom didn’t know anything either. All I know is there was a surplus of money and Santos didn’t have a nine to five job.”

  “Give me something else, Blaze. Why do you think it’s drugs?” She stares Pops down, the wheels turning.

  “My mother told me once she overheard him on the phone talking about product so I assumed it was drugs.”

  Pops’ eyes swing to mine. Product can mean thousands of things: drugs, cars, money, guns, or even people. There is no limit and this leaves us little to go on. “I’ll have Buzz look. Step on out so I can talk to Tug a minute.”

  “It’s okay. Just wait for me out there,” I reassure her when she stills. She nods.

  Blaze stands from the chair. “Thank you,” she mutters and leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

  “Fuck,” Pops grunts, rubbing his hand through his salt and pepper hair, clearly frustrated. “We do not need this shit at our doorstep.” I say nothing. “Fuck.” He stands from the chair then breathes in deep “All right. You’re on Blaze until I get some information. Which will hopefully be right fucking now.” He picks up his cell and dials.

  “Buzz. Need you to investigate two people. Santos Markus and Frank Markus. I need everything you can get on them.”

  I sit and listen to the one-sided conversation. Pops’ face contorts to all different emotions, but anger is overriding everything.

  “No, this is more important.” Buzz must be trying to tell him that hacking into that computer is more important.

  “Yes, I’m sure. Get me the info then you can go back to it.”

  “I need it like yesterday.”

  Pops swipes the phone off and tosses it on his desk. “I’d put her on lockdown, but I don’t know for sure who we’re dealing with, so I’ll wait. But it may come to that shit.” He shakes his head absently. “Go. I’ll be in touch.”

  I nod, moving out the door, not able to say anything to make this situation better.

  I trudge out to the clubhouse and Blaze is sitting at one of the small tables. I join her, fear and anger pulsing off of her. “You wanna go home or hang out here?” I ask her, not caring what she picks just glad that she is my job for the next couple of days, even if that means some asshole is after her.

  “Home.” Her lips form an O as she says the word. My dick hardens at the thoughts of where that mouth could go. Then my mind snaps to what she told me. Fuck. I will my dick down. Yeah, right.

  “Let’s go.” I grab her arm gently. I need a ride to clear my thoughts. We’ll take the long way home.

  Even though she chose to come to her house, by the crashing of pots and pans in the kitchen, I’m guessing she doesn’t like Pops’ decision. Too fucking bad. I rest my hip on the kitchen counter, cross my arms and wait. Blaze is putting pans on the stove, filling one with water. She pulls noodles out of the cabinet and sets them beside the sink. Each time she puts a lid on or opens a drawer, she slams it shut with all her might.

  “You wanna tear up your kitchen?” I joke, having no doubt it was hard for her retelling everything to Pops and trying to lighten the mood.

  She whips around, eyes shooting up like she didn’t know I am standing a few feet away. “I’m not tearing anything up. I’m making some food. I’m hungry.” She turns to the stove, dismissing me.

  “You want to talk about it?”

  She opens a drawer and the sound of metal clinking together echoes through the kitchen. She yanks out a spoon and bumps the drawer closed with her hip. “No.” Her voice is much quieter this time but her spine is still straight as a board.

  I take long strides up to the stove and stand behind her. Once she removes the spoon out of the pot, I grab her hips and turn her around. Her eyes fill with shock. I hold her tight, needing her as close to me as she can get.

  Blaze’s body stays stiff, but no words come from those plump lips. After what feels like hours, but were only minutes, her arms wrap around me and she turns to the side, burrowing into my chest. She does not move. I softly stroke her back and her body melts into mine.

  I’m reluctant to let her go when she tries, but do. Her eyes meet mine and I want to wipe away every bit of pain that is etched in them. Destroy it. I cup her cheeks, holding her nose-to-nose with me, lightly brushing my lips over hers and wanting more. But now is not the time to take it.

  “I know you think it’s best for you to leave, but, babe, I fully stand behind Pops. We’ll be ready if it comes to that.” She nods. “I’m gonna go in the living room for a while,” I say softly, meeting her eyes. As much as I do not want to let her go, I do. I take my phone out of my rag and set my rag on the end of the couch, my phone in hand. I took off my boots at the door, so I am left in just jeans and a black t-shirt, pretty much all I wear.

  I text Buzz.

  Me: Any info on the fuckers?

  Buzz: Some, working, will update in a bit

  I sigh, putting the phone down. I sit on the couch and lie back, putting my feet up. My arm drapes over my eyes and flashes of a young Blaze float through my brain. Her being terrified. Her thinking there is no way out. Her crying because she couldn’t go to anyone. Her trying to protect her mom. Anger bubbles in my veins hotter this time than before as my brain is continually processing the hell that she went through, over and over again. And it was hell. It also explains a lot about her.

  The fact that she likes to be home alone, and at X, how she keeps herself inside her dressing room. The fact that she swore off the Ravage guys right away. She probably saw us as big domineering assholes, same as the men who attacked her repeatedly. The fact that she doesn’t date, accept for me, now. The fact that she barely comes to any parties or get-togethers. Her ramrod stiff spine and how she can take on the world. And in a way she has.

  Fuck.

  “Tug?” I remove my arm from my face and sit up. She carries in two plates, setting one down on the coffee table in front of me. “I thought you might be hungry. It’s nothing fancy, just spaghetti, but it’s something.” She shrugs her shoulder like it’s no big deal.

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.” I pick up the plate, lean back on the couch and eat. Damn, that’s good. Blaze sits in the recliner and eats hers, grabs the remote and turns the television on and flips through the channels.

  “I won’t make you watch a Lifetime movie or anything,” she says absently, and I have no clue what the fuck Lifetime is.

  “A what?” My fork stills.

  “It’s a station that plays romantic and tragic movies that most of the time, make you cry. You’ve never heard of it?”

  “Uh… no,” I answer with finality. “And I’m not gonna start.”

  Her eyes meet mine and she points to the TV with the remote. “This good?”

  I glance back at the TV and monster truck racing is on. “Hell yeah. You wanna watch this?”

  “Oh, yeah. I want to take my Jeep out sometime and try it. Not the racing part but the going through the mud and stuff.”

  I whip to her, my mouth hanging open in shock. “No shit?”

  “Nope.” She turns her attention to the TV. We sit in silence while we finish eating. I make a mental note to make that come true for her.

  I set my polished off plate on the table. “Thank you, Blaze.”

  “No problem.” She gets up from the chair and picks up my plate. She takes her fine ass into the kitchen and I watch it sway. Fuck. After a brief time, she comes back.

  “Come here. Lie with me.” She comes without hesitation. She may be angry at the decision for her to stay, but not at me. I crush against the cushions of the couch and pat the area in front of me.

  She lies down next to me, my arms wrapping around her waist. She fits perfectly.

  Her body is tense. “Relax,” I tell
her softly. The stiffness in her body gets a tad bit lighter. Neither of us moves for long moments. She finally relaxes.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers, burrowing into my body.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for, sweet lips. What happened to you wasn’t your fault.” Her body stiffens in my arms, but I keep going. “Those assholes took something from you that you weren’t willing to give. It’s not your fault.”

  She sits silent for long minutes the television continuing to play in the background. “I just wanted my mom better.”

  The aching guilt behind her words comes out loud and clear. Damn. “I know you did. And she wanted to protect you.”

  Wetness drips on my arm. I hold her tighter to my body. “She did. And I was horrible for just leaving her. I didn’t even go to her funeral.”

  “You were a wonderful daughter to her. You had no choice. You had to leave.”

  Her body shakes as sobs rake through her. I turn her in my arms and rest her head on my chest while she cries. I doubt she ever really mourned her mother. She was running for her life at the time.

  I rub up and down her side, trying to soothe her, but glad she is getting it out. The t-shirt on my chest is soaked but I don’t give a shit.

  Long minutes later, her tears dry up and her breathing returns to normal.

  “Why are they coming after you now?” I ask softly, being careful with her.

  “My guess is they’ve been searching for me since I left and since my aunt is in North Carolina, they were probably looking around there. I got lucky that it took them this long.”

  “And that’s why you want to run again?”

  Her eyes spark in disagreement. “If I could go, they won’t catch me.”

  “I won’t let them get you, Blaze. I’ll do anything to protect you,” I say with all the power I possess, and I believe that to my core.

  She lets out a breath. “I’ll die before I go back to them. I will not go through that ever again.”

  I believe her words with every fiber inside of me and the thought makes me angrier, but I mask it.

  “Sorry,” she whispers. I maneuver her on top of me, my eyes meeting hers.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for, sweet lips.” Her mouth slightly parts and fire blazes behind her eyes.

  I brush my lips across her soft ones.

  “I know I have a lot of shit going on in my head, but the fact that you know my past now is like a huge weight off of my shoulders. I didn’t want you to know, but I did want you to know.”

  “I’m glad you told me, baby.”

  His strong arms come around me and he kisses my temple, my hands going to his muscled chest. “Get dressed. We gotta get to the clubhouse. Buzz has an update and Pops wants me there.”

  My eyes widen. “Can I hear?”

  His eyes tell me the answer, but he says it anyway. “Not yet. Let me know what it is first. One thing you gotta know is, club business is club business.” I start to say but it’s about me! But he doesn’t give me time. “I know it’s about you but I won’t tell you anything that deals with the club and you need to be okay with that. There will be days when we are together, and I’m in a piss-poor mood but I won’t be able to talk about it. Or there will be days when I’m wired and happy and again, can’t tell you.” He lifts my chin gently. His chocolate brown eyes melt me. “It’s better this way, Blaze. I know it’s hard, but you have to trust me. Trust me to take care of you.”

  Trust. The people I’ve trusted since Mom are Princess, even though I didn’t tell her my past but she helped me no questions asked, and Casey. Putting my trust in him and the club, that’s a hard measure. I whisper, “I’ll try.” Because that is all I can do right now.

  He touches my lips with his. “Thanks, sweet lips. Get dressed.” My heart flutters.

  Sitting at the bar in the clubhouse, I feel so damn out of place. Men and women come though repeatedly. The guys give me chin lifts and the women give me scowls, but I’ve had experience with that. Wood paneling lines the walls, with pictures of the brothers and a massive, carved emblem that says Ravage and a huge skull with fire coming out of the top, exactly like the brothers’ patches. There are some banners from charity events they have done and a huge corkboard with lots of papers tacked to it. The bar I’m sitting at is old and worn with lots of nicks and scratches.

  The air smells like musty smoke, which explains all the ashtrays everywhere. Two couches and chairs sit in the far corner; smaller tables and chairs line the large floor. The area off to the side is occupied predominantly by a pool table and a large dartboard is on the wall next to it.

  “Well, look who we have here.” I jump and turn to the voice, wanting to roll my eyes, but don’t.

  “Hi, Dagger.” I give a soft wave.

  “What’s a pretty thing like you doing here all alone? I think you need some company.” He smirks in a handsome way and sits on the stool next to me. Luckily, the stools are far enough apart that he isn’t invading my space. “What something to drink?”

  “I’d take a soda if you got one. Diet, please,” I ask politely.

  “Sure thing.” He turns to the room. “Breaker!” he yells loudly, my eardrums ring and that’s saying something considering I deal with loud music all the time. Breaker comes out of the swinging doors and lifts his chin. “Get this beautiful lady a diet soda,” he orders, “and me a beer.” Breaker nods and disappears.

  I want to ask if Breaker’s job is to serve the brothers but bite my tongue. Breaker opens my soda and puts it on the bar. “Thank you,” I say, but he dips his chin with no words. Dagger says nothing to him.

  “He’s a quiet one, huh?” I smile.

  “Pretty much. So why you here?” This question shocks me because I figured Pops would have told everyone about what’s going on already, but I guess not and I’m not going to be the one to do it.

  “Waiting on Tug.” His brow rises as he lifts his bottle to his lips.

  “You and Tugger, huh?” I avoid his question and giggle a bit at the name.

  “Tugger?” I ask, taking a drink from my soda.

  “That’s his last name, darlin’” Confusion hits. I always thought Tug was his club name.

  “Really?” I question, damn I thought I knew a lot about him.

  “Yep.”

  “Thought you had club names cause I’m pretty sure your real name isn’t Dagger.” I pause. “Wait, is it?” I hate this confusion.

  Dagger lets out a belly laugh, causing everyone in the clubhouse to focus on him. Didn’t know I’m that funny.

  “Dagger’s not my name on my driver’s license, but it is my name, the only one that I go by anyway.” I nod. I’m learning here. “So what’s up with you and Tug? Cause, baby, I’ve seen you dance and if he’s getting that, I may have to beat the shit out of him just for fun.”

  Heat creeps up my neck and onto my face. Shit, blushing? Seriously, woman, get a grip. “He’s a good guy,” I answer, wondering if Tug hasn’t said anything to the club about us yet. Surely, he has.

  “And she avoids it,” Dagger continues. Damn man. “You don’t have to tell me. But since you’re here, did you finally decide to be a club momma and are ready for some action?” He wiggles his brows up and down, his beard-covered mouth stretched in a grin. This time I do roll my eyes. No way in hell.

  “You wish, Dagger. I strip, that’s it.” I pick up the can of soda and put it to my lips.

  “Baby, you are sexy as fuck.” Seriously. This is how all the guys at X look at me. Ugh.

  “Thanks,” I say wryly. How in the hell is this going to go? All of Tug’s friends have seen me strip. How do I act when they’ve all seen me? I shake myself out of my stupid thoughts.

  “I’m just fucking with ya, sugar,” he says. His bandana covers the top of his long blonde hair. He appears rough and mean, but from the way he’s talking, I can tell he has a joking and kind side also. “Really, what brings you to the club?”

  I breathe out deep. “Tug’s handlin
g some things for me and he’s talking to Pops.” Partial truth. I really didn’t want everyone to know what happened to me in Colorado, but I know they all will. I’ll bide my time.

  “Tug there, he’s a good guy. I won’t say that to his face or nothing, but he is. Loyal, trustworthy, and I’m glad he has my back.” My jaw falls open and I’m sure my eyes are as wide as saucers. “He never bitches or complains and always gets shit done fast. He’s one of the good ones.”

  Did he really just say that? Big bad Dagger paid Tug a compliment. Shock doesn’t even cut it and I soak in every word that comes out of his mouth because I believe him whole-heartedly.

  “I’ll have to agree with you on that.” I try to pick my mouth up off the floor.

  “I gotta split, the ol’ lady wants me home, not that I ever listen to her, but she said she had food and a man’s gotta eat.” He shrugs, getting off the barstool and patting his stomach. “You take care of yourself.”

  “So, you’re telling me you’re hitting on me when you have an ol’ lady at home?” I mean, seriously aren’t there rules on that shit?

  A full out smile shines, exposing years of cigarette build-up, not gross, but not clean either. “Yep,” is all he says and he disappears.

  It feels like it’s been hours since Tug went to talk to Pops and I’m pretty sure it has been. My eyes get droopy and I rest, cross my arms on the bar and lay my head down. Somehow, I fall fast asleep.

  “Sweet lips,” is whispered in my ear and I slowly open my eyes, getting a view of the clubhouse. I turn to the voice. Tug stands next to me giving me soft strokes on my back going up and down. “Hey. We can go home now.”

  The fogginess disappears. “Wait, I wanna know what’s going on,” I say in a rush as he grabs my arm and I stand to my feet a bit shakily. I need to remind myself never to fall asleep on a barstool again, not only do my legs ache but my neck does too. I ignore it.