Chapter Thirty-Four
Blaze
I barely slept, I just laid there and held Marchella, pretending everything was okay for her benefit. She’d suffered enough the past few days with my bullshit.
Dawn broke sometime after five and I slowly slid my arm from under her. She stirred and rolled toward me, a question in her sleepy expression. I kissed her forehead.
“Get your rest, you’re going to need it when I get back, beautiful.”
“Where are you going?” she mumbled, her voice thicker than normal, her eyes still closed.
“Going to see about a job really quick. Papers say I have movement until noon. I’ll be back in time to take you to breakfast before I’m locked down again,” I promised.
She murmured against my kiss, but didn’t ask any more questions or move to stop me.
I wasn’t expecting Trista to be perched on the waist-high ledge of the porch steps.
“You look like one of those Egyptian cat statues or something,” I teased, not knowing what else to say, but wanting her to know I didn’t hate her.
She flicked her cigarette and looked up at me, her lips twitching into a hint of a smile, “Where are you off to so early?”
I drew in a long, deep breath, unsure whether I wanted to admit my intended destination or not.
“Your brother’s place,” I finally relented, so as not to appear rude.
“Yeah?” She pepped up, hopping off the rail.
I glanced back, confused.
“Wh-what are you doing?
“Going with you.” She nodded and kept walking toward my bike.
“Uh– Is that–allowed?”
She froze, spinning on her heel and jerking a brow up in a deadly arch, “’Allowed?’ Blaze Aviston, I’m not sure what you mean by ‘allowed–‘ Are you suggesting my husband's permission is somehow required for me to be transported somewhere in this world?”
She blinked in a way that left me stammering, even if that wasn’t what I meant at all, “I–I– No.”
“No.” She nodded, “Good, because the day that becomes a thing, is the day your president’s dick becomes my new writing tool. I keep those in the purse I don’t carry.”
She kept nodding the whole time she was laying her threats, and I eventually nodded with her, because I was a little scared of what would happen if I didn’t show some sign of receptiveness to her madness.
“No– I just– I meant, with the club. Is that– A thing–? I don’t know the rules,” I whispered, until her cigarette had all but went limp in her grasp.
Her eyes were a stale, bored color, by the time she broke the uncomfortable silence, “Blaze– I’m your uncle’s wife, not some barfly from the Booze Barn, okay?”
“Yeah. So– He isn’t gonna–?”
She blinked and I eventually felt my cheeks warming under her critical gaze.
“Get on,” I snapped, hopping on the bike.
She snorted and saddled up behind me. Once we were on the road, she gave a dramatic sigh and tapped her nails on my back like she was bored.
“Now that we have an understanding, if you ever deny me or tell Easy, I was on the back of your bike, I’ll say you made me play a guided game of pocket pool and threatened my life after he left me at your house–”
My mind was already in a million directions, her bullshit was the icing on the cake. I let off the throttle and half twisted to see her. She panicked and whacked me on the shoulder.
“I’m fucking kidding, Jesus Christ, Blaze. Eyes on the road.”
“Trista!” I barked, while she hid her face against my back and cackled.
I said a silent prayer for patience and luckily recalled the way to Makaveli’s house with her only having to point once or twice.
“You’re the best one. My favorite, I swear.” Trista was still laughing when we arrived.
“The best one, I’m her second fucking boyfriend.”
Trista’s smile flatlined, “I meant out of those dickheads. My niece didn’t cock hop. It isn’t her style. She doesn’t open up to people very easily.”
“I know.”
The front door of Makaveli’s door squeaked as he stepped outside. He descended the steps slowly and took a careful path across the yard. When he hopped over a patch of mulch, I noticed he was barefoot. He didn’t have a shirt on, and there was still a chill in the air. He shoved his hands under his arms and saluted me with his chin, “What’s up?”
“Brought her to see you,” I lied.
“Pfft, I didn’t come to see that ugly bastard, I came to smoke with Izzy,” Trista announced before scampering across the yard.
I laughed and shook my head.
“Easy left her at my house,” I explained.
He gave a slow nod, his hazel eyes slowly cutting toward me.
“You’re not mad at her?”
“Her?” I placed a little bit of accusation into the word and waited to see if he’d squirm or squeal as Oak said.
Mak laughed, his eyes lighting up a bit, “She’s my only daughter, Blaze. What the fuck would she even do in Georgia? Would I have even seen her again?”
I took in his words, and stuffed my fingers into my pockets, letting my thumbs dangle outside, “I never intended to take her from you. I thought I was going to prison. Don came and said he’d make the shit go away if I married her. I– didn’t realize he meant for me to leave with her, but–”
I nodded, having deduced that was his– or at least her plan.
“I didn’t marry her to get out of jail free, I really do love her.”
He gave an amused grunt.
“I do,” I doubled down.
“Blaze,” He reached up and framed his jaw with his hand, running his fingers along the blond stubble while he stared off into the distance. “Did you ever hear about my wedding?”
I wasn’t sure if I should answer honestly or not. Mak and I were on newly forged grounds, and I wasn’t even sure if it was friendly soil yet.
“My mother mentioned something about Demetri Valentino’s sister– That Izzy?”
“Mhm.” he mumbled, “Sure was. Demetri executed my mother, he tried to assassinate my father, he murdered my wife, took my sister hostage, and then demanded I marry his sister.”
Something cold rushed through my veins and my heart did a somersault.
“Jesus,” I managed.
“Oh, no. He was straight out of the bowels of hell. Jesus and God didn’t have nothing to do with the likes of that mother fucker.”
“Damn.” That was high praise considering the source.
“I married her. I fucking hated her. I’m here to tell you, I wanted to drive that fucking bike right off the side of the interstate with her on the back of it on the way back from that Chicago wedding.”
I whipped around, giving a wild glance toward the porch and the direction Trista had gone in search of his wife.
He snorted, “I ain’t never admitted that to nobody. Don’t go squealing on me, now.”
I slowly fixed my attention back on him, unsure if I believed that.
“I don’t snitch.”
He nodded, “Point is, once we arrived–” He shrugged, “We got off rich–She fuckin shot me.”
“What?” I laughed.
“Well, I mean– I might have smacked her a little or whatever, but yeah– She fuckin’ put a bullet in me. We hate fucked a few times. I was possessive of her, but that ain’t love, Blaze. I didn’t love her until I saw how hard she was willing to ride for me and my kids. You’re possessive of my daughter. I see it. The whole party heard it– but do you really love her?”
Fuck.
Nice move, Blaze.
Serenade the club and party with the sound of his daughter coming, then ask for a job!
What the fuck was I thinking?
I groaned and glanced away.
“It isn’t a matter of fucking her. I– shouldn’t have fucked her at that party.” I held a finger up, willing to admit when I was wrong, “Not outside anyhow.”
He snorted and laughed shaking his head, “You’re fucking Ant all over again.”
He might as well have slapped me in the fucking mouth like I did his daughter last night.
When he glanced back and saw the stunned look on my face, the humor left his eyes. They tightened momentarily, before he canted his head.
“That's it, isn’t it?” He quieted momentarily and frowned at the ground, “I– I couldn’t reach her with that. Never. No matter how I tried. I mean, I know what it’s like to lose a mother, I lost mine the same day she lost hers, but I was a grown fucking man. She was just a little girl. I don’t even think I processed my mother’s death for years. It was just a blip in a long list of fucked-up shit, you know–”
I nodded. It was an unfathomable tragedy. I didn’t know all the minor details, but I was piecing it together and it was already bad enough.
“She didn’t just push me out– She pushed everyone out and put up walls that I didn’t think would ever get scaled.” He eyed me and gave an impressive whistle.
“It’s a lot. I mean– between me and her. I feel like it’s a lot, but I know it's just the beginning. The walls may not be what you think they are. I don’t push my mom to talk about my dad. I gave up on that a long time ago, so I dance around the topic of him with her and beg everyone to share their memories with me.”
“I couldn’t talk about Sasha with them. Afterwards– Not really. I wasn’t a good husband. Shit, I was barely a father. The only thing I’ve ever been good at is being a brother and making shit happen. I made a lot of mistakes with Sasha. The kids know it, but that doesn't mean I was ready to go stomping down memory lane with all that, confirming their suspicions that I was a no-good bastard.”
“I don’t know if she thinks that, but– I wonder if maybe one of those bricks in her wall that you speak of is the lack of transparency that may or may not be detected by her on some level. Is it possible sensing such makes her question the authenticity of everyone around her, including her own ability to recall or interpret the world she lives in?”
He stared at me for so long, I thought I’d offended him for a minute.
“Maybe,” He mused after a moment, “Think you could find out for me?”
“Huh?” I blurted out.
“Find out what my daughter holds against me.”
“Get me a job and I’ll think about it.”
He laughed and looked at me like I was being ridiculous.
“What? I need a fuckin’ job. I got a wife to take care of, you know…” I carried on, before being serious, “I’m locked down with this house arrest, shit. The court will put my ass back in the county if I don’t have a job soon.”
“Don’t I know it.” He grumbled, rubbing his jaw, “Tell you what, May is due to cover door detail for church tonight. You can help him.”
“I need a job I can put on the damn court paper. I can’t say Steel Disciple Door Thug.”
He laughed and slapped my arm.
“You’re an asshole, you know that? Do you give anyone time to finish speaking?”
I squinted at him but shut up.
“When you finish there, you can go over to Steel Cages and help Donnie at the door there. Tell him to put you on the bouncer schedule. Be there on Tuesday at eleven and I’ll teach you some office shit. If you work out, I’ll sell you back your father’s interest.”
“Don’t fuck with me, Mak.”
“Your father was my best friend, we co-owned the strip club originally, but your mother and I bumped heads too much. So, we parted ways to retain our friendship. It’s as much your birthright as that patch.”