Chapter Four
Blaze
“W–” The word wait died on my lips when she shot out the door. I glanced down and realized Aunt Daisy’s fingertips were pressed against my chest in a silent plea for me to let the girl go.
It was the last thing I wanted to do. Her blue eyes had called to me from the moment I stepped out of the van. It wasn’t my imagination, there was something about her. Something special. I stood there staring at the door, recalling the way she’d disappeared into the house. I’d much rather think of that than the image of her cowering when I followed her inside.
“What the fuck…?” I whispered.
“Let that one go, Blaze.” Aunt Daisy’s voice was so small, yet the plea was unmistakable.
I glanced back at her, and those familiar dark eyes were round and full of concern.
“What did she mean by that…?” I wanted to know more, and yet, I didn’t want her whisking me back to Oak and my mother if I showed too much interest.
“Exactly what she said.” Daisy’s brows flinched, but her gaze held. “That's all she’s ever known.”
“What is?” The minute the words left my lips, I knew the answer.
Daisy cleared her throat, “I’m sorry you had to witness that. I don’t even know who the fuck let Michael Miller into my house, to be honest. Carl knows I don’t tolerate his presence, much less his bullshit.”
“That's his name? The guy who had her all…” I tried to haul myself into a one-legged bundle, imitating the girl as best I could.
“No.” She turned the water on and ran her index over the pad of her thumb in the stream with no real purpose. “Michael Miller is her father. The one who likely caused the upset was Mackie. He’s good at that. That boy has been trouble his whole life. In and out of jail. Kid he doesn’t see. Women he left in messes. That's what he is… messy,” she decided with a slow, but firm nod.
“Yeah, well… he pulls that shit again, he’s gonna learn how to clean up real fast, cause I’m gonna mop the floor with him.” The words were drawn from somewhere, I didn’t even realize what I was saying until her hand tightened on my arm.
“Let’s go check on your sister,” she said, after staring at me for a long time. I could tell there were a thousand things she wanted to say, but none of them came to fruition.
I gave a slow nod, washed my hands, and followed her out. The floor was cleaned up, and a woman with long, dark hair was wiping down the kitchen counter when we made it back to the entry area.
“Izzy?” I guessed, summoning her name from places long forgotten in my mind.
She turned around and broke out into a big smile, “There you are, Blaze baby.”
She gripped the air and started toward me, clearly expecting a hug. I greeted her with one and she fussed over me for a moment.
“My God, Blaze. You were only…” Her hand came down near her hip and she shook her head in amazement.
The door popped open, and what may as well have been a miniature copy of Izzy hurried to her side and tried to whisper in her ear. Izzy grabbed the girl's arm and spun her to face me, ignoring her attempts altogether.
“Wha—? Mo—m!” She stressed the word with a dramatic roll of her eye. She pulled away from Izzy, smoothed her sleeve and flashed me a smile that looked practiced.
“Stop acting like I’m fucking five.” She hissed at her mother after doing so.
Daisy gasped, and I didn’t know where to look. The girl was lucky if she was fifteen.
“Blaze, love. This is my daughter, Lucia. You haven’t met her before. She was born after you guys left for Georgia.” Izzy said, all but confirming my guess on the girl’s age.
Lucia’s big, brown eyes were lined in black, and she had fake eyelashes on that made it look like we might have a lift off if she blinked at me any more than she was currently trying to.
“I like your name.” She giggled.
“Me, too.” I nodded uncomfortably and cleared my throat. “I– uh… I should find my uncle.”
“Yes.” Daisy firmly seconded, flicking her polished nails against my shoulder. She gripped and steered me toward the door. “Let’s get this bike for you, so that you and Karlotti can–”
Her words were cut off as the door popped open in our face and Montana stepped inside.
“Hey, baby.” He stepped into her, and captured her face, kissing her deeply.
“Carl–” she mumbled before his mouth snuffed the words. He purposefully untangled her hands from me and urged me out the door with a wave of his fingers behind his back.
I could barely conceal my laughter. The man deserved a metal for his interference game. I took the steps two at a time and spotted Mayhem leaning up against a bike. He shot off of it and hurried toward me.
“There you are.” He grinned.
“How the fuck did you get away from Aunt Daisy?” Easy chimed in from my other side.
I laughed and Easy clapped me on the back and led us toward the garage.
“Wait ‘til you see it.” Mayhem shook his head. “Thats a bad mother fucker, man.”
“Yes, it is.” Easy proudly sang, as he moved to the back.
A brown tarp was covering it, but Easy leaned down and made quick work of unveiling my father’s bike. That’s what everyone had called it. I hadn’t even bothered asking what kind it was, but I couldn’t stop smiling when I laid eyes on the Dyna Super Glide Sport with the low-slung seat. It was like everything I’d ever heard about his personality was staring back at me.
It was definitely a beauty.
“You painted it up for me.” I said, stepping toward it and running my hand appreciatively over the shiny black and purple Steel Disciples logo on the tank.
“No.” Easily quickly shifted his head in denial. “No, Ant did that by hand. He liked the purple on black Disciple logo best of all.” He motioned toward it, in an absent, almost pained way. “That’s your dad, right there.”
I swallowed hard and traced the lines with my fingertip. My mouth went dry as it often did when I saw pictures of him. My mom didn’t bring them out often, but once in a while I caught Oak in his study with them over the years.
For a moment, my throat caught, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to take another breath.
“Hey.” Easy tapped my arm, snapping me out of it. “Hey, let’s get a beer, nephew.”
“Y-yeah.” I agreed on a gasp.
Easy sauntered ahead of us toward the garage. A pair of girls were standing in front of a cooler, ear to mouth, oblivious to our approach.
“Shit, it must be good…” Easy exclaimed, with a wave.
“Gossiping asses,” Mayhem scoffed, with a laugh that sent the women parting.
“Damn,” he deeply drawled when he saw what was sitting on the cooler when they parted.
It took me a moment to realize he was speaking about my baby sister. No one had ever looked at Karlotti like that, at least not in front of me!
“Hey,” I tapped his arm, causing Easy to cackle.
“I’m sorry,” Easy managed, quickly looking away.
“What?” May looked between us.
“Hey, Blaze,” Karlotti quietly greeted.
“Hey girl, what you doin’ over here all alone, anyhow?” May answered for me, and before Easy could stop him, he slid onto the edge of the cooler with my sister and tried to throw his arm over her.
My eyes bugged, but there wasn’t time to say shit. Karlotti caught him in the ribs with an elbow, just the way Oak taught her. With the heft of her weight, she ground it in good, sending Mayhem off the cooler with enough haste to have made her daddy proud. He stumbled in the process, landing on his ass with a solid thud.
“Don’t touch me,” she blurted out, springing off the cooler.
She smoothed her blouse, shot me a disgusted look, and stormed off. Easy was barely holding it together. He’d given us his back, but I could tell by the rocking of his shoulders he was laughing his ass off.
The sound of Makaveli’s taunting laughter started low, but it cemented into an appreciative rumble when he got close enough to see May sprawled out still.
“You look like a goddamn beetle on its back. Get the fuck up.” Mak quipped, shaking his head as he leveled a look at Easy. “These youngin’s got no game, brother. None. These bitches were lined up to bend over for us in the day. Look at ‘em now… Dick in the dirt.”
I watched him without really saying much. I knew he was Marchella’s father. I’d known that when he stormed in a step ahead of us and put that asshole in his place earlier. I also knew he was a raging lunatic most of the time. Some personalities were harder to forget than others. Makaveli was my father’s best friend before his accident, I had crisp memories of him visiting our house when I was small.
His gaze locked with mine and though he didn’t move a muscle, I saw a smirk take hold in those nasty hazel eyes of his.
“ That bitch is my baby sister,” I clipped, “Talk out of turn about her again and he won’t be the only one on his back.”
All the chatter around us suddenly died down. Mak’s eyes instantly narrowed, only for his smile to grow. He stared at me for a moment, and I honestly thought we were going to go heads up, until he shifted his gaze to Easy and snorted, a slow nod taking over.
“I like him,” he decided.
It wasn’t until he took a step back and the light reached the patch on his chest that I realized what I’d done.
The words Vice President were staring back at me, and so was everyone else.
“I–I, uh…” May stammered, running a hand through his long reddish-brown hair. “Sister, huh?”
“Yeah.” I answered my cousin.
“So, she’s my…”
“Nothing.” Easy answered him. “Karlotti is Oak’s daughter. She wasn’t my brother’s.”
“Karlotti, huh?” He sampled her name, barely getting it out before Aunt Trista’s hand caught him in the back of the head.
Her vicious pop sent May’s head forward a bit, but he made no acknowledgment of his mother’s disgust or outburst.
“Never mind Karlotti, you forget about her,” Trista hissed at him.
She strained to look around the crowd, when she spotted my sister, she shot off in her direction.
“Donnie boy,” Easy blurted out, ripping my attention back to him.
He clasped hands and shook up with another patched member. The man’s long, blond hair was a familiar shade, and something about the way he stood made the guess fly out before I could stop it, “Donovan?”
He tipped his head and saluted me with his chin, an honest smile stealing his features.
“Blaze,” He excitedly returned, before scooping me into a hug. “It’s great to see you. I’m glad ya’ll came up.”
“Donnie, can I get you a beer?” a redheaded girl in shorts that barely covered her ass all but begged.
“Sure, that’d be great.” He responded without a second glance. “Have ya’ll seen my brother?”
The edge of concern in Donnie’s voice would have been endearing if he were asking after anyone else.
“You mean Mackie?” I didn’t mean to say it with as much disgust as it came out with, they were brothers after all.
“Yeah.” He nodded, fixing his attention to me like he expected me to point him in one direction or another.
“Not since he had your sister cowering from him.” I doubled down, without really knowing why. I wasn’t a person prone to confrontation, but the vision of Marchella balled up like that was still irking me.
Donnie’s baby blue eyes softened and widened, “March?”
He shot a panicked glance to Easy, who quickly fanned the air like it was nothing. Donnie’s unconvinced gaze shifted between us for a moment.
“The fuck is his problem anyhow?” I asked, despite that little voice in my head telling me to leave it alone.
“Meg,” Donnie whispered, as if that one name answered everything.
When I didn’t seem fazed by it, he cleared his throat. “Mackie had a kid with some chick, but uh–”
He shook his head and quieted as the redhead sauntered back with an armload of beers. She handed me the first one, gave Donnie the second, then tried to wrap an arm around Easy’s neck and present the last in front of my uncle’s lips like she might be honored to pour it into his mouth for him.
“You don’t wanna die tonight, Sweetheart.” He grabbed the beer from her hand and landed a swat to her ass that was hard enough to send her sprawling a few paces.
Donnie’s head swiveled wildly, and I knew before his gaze locked on Trista that's who he was looking for. Easy laughed when Trista bugged her eyes back at Donnie.
“She’s so funny.” Donnie shook his head and grinned.
“So, Meg was fuckin’ with him?” Easy steered Donnie back to the gossip about his brother.
“Yeah. I guess she let him have it tonight.” Donnie quietly shared, giving another glance around to be sure no one was in earshot. “She, uh– She told him a long time ago that he wasn’t gonna be around the boy unless he could keep his ass out of trouble. Meg said he had to stay off papers and out of the pen for a certain amount of time before she’d consider visitation and a relationship.”
He gave a hard shrug, “I guess my brother thought it’d been time enough, she thought otherwise.”
“Why doesn’t he just file a court case and remove it from her hands?” I asked what I thought was the obvious question.
“Because, my sister is the local court reporter,” a voice chimed in, as some man in a kutte with no shirt under it, raised his limbs and pretended to type away.
“Scottie,” Easy shook up with him, “Brother, this is Anthony’s son, Blaze. Nephew, this is Scottie Tripp, we just call him Tripp.”
“He’s Meg’s brother.” Donnie said, in case I didn’t catch that the first time.
“I told him not to feel special, they don’t let me see the boy, either.” Scottie laughed, throwing a shoulder up with indifference.
Easy sniffed, not sharing in the amusement. “Man has a right to see his son. How old is he now? She can’t tie the kid’s fuckin’ shoes forever.”
“Malcolm is fifteen.”
“Malcolm,” Easy nearly choked on the name, his eyes lighting up with contempt.
Scottie made a nasally sound that bled into a laugh, “Malcolm Oliver Tripp.”
“Fuck me.” Easy scoffed, shaking his head.
Izzy smacked her lips together and forced her way between us with little nudges of her hips. When she made it to the cooler, she leaned down, pointedly poking her bottom out behind her. She fetched two beers from the ice like she had all day to do it. When she stood up, her gaze shifted so heavily toward Mayhem, she might as well have pointed with one of her long, pretty nails. Though her attention remained anchored to him, her words were directly entirely at his father.
“You know, before you start laughing about my grandbaby’s name, Easy Aviston, you might consider taking the time to recall that you gave your son a road name from birth.”
She spoke like she was chewing his ass, but everyone laughed, even Easy. It was obvious as much as they all shit-talked one another, they loved each other. They were a family.
It stung a little bit, and I didn’t really know how to explain why. I had a family. A good family. Oak was awesome. He’d been my best friend, and an amazing stepfather. My mother loved me immensely. Yes, she smothered and helicoptered, or whatever people called it nowadays, but she meant well. She cared for me… I’d never gone without.
So, why did I feel like I’d been robbed of something?