Page 8 of Vapor's Blaze
I’m balls deep in this a woman that I’m really clicking with and dreaming about our next sexual encounter when the front door downstairs opens and slams shut again.
It’s a record scratch. She freaks out beneath me. Things go from sexy as hell one minute, to absolute chaos the next.
A man’s voice calls out, “Are you upstairs. Why the hell are your clothes scattered all about, you got a man here?”
She shoves me off her and flies out of the bed. The next thing I know, she’s running around throwing all my clothing at me as she hisses, “You need to get out right damn now.”
As I pull on my pants, she races across the room and pulls open the window. It has a screen, which she carefully removes.
“What the fuck is going on here? Are you married?” I hiss, aggravated that my hard cock it still reaching for her.
Instead of answering, she gestures toward the window. “Get out, you don’t have much time.”
“I’m not afraid of your fucking husband. You know that, right?”
“It doesn’t matter. You need to get the hell out.” She literally shoves me until I throw one leg over the window.
In that instant, the happy bubble I’ve been living in pops and it fucking hurts. I’m halfway out the window when I realize there isn’t going to be a next time. The minute I’m out, the window slams shut behind me and she yanks the curtains closed. I’m left standing on a tiny balcony with the knowledge that I never got a name, a phone number, or anything. I pull on my t-shirt, slip my sneakers on and run my fingers through my hair in exasperation.
It’s only when I start climbing down the supports of the balcony and catch sight of what’s waiting for me below that I curse under my breath. There are three motorcycles sitting in her driveway and they’re painted up with the colors of the Hellfire Hounds MC, our most dangerous rival. And I apparently just fucked one of their women stupid.
I’m starting to really hate myself at this point. Why the hell didn’t I do any due diligence, like I do with all the other women in my life before getting involved with them. My mind must be a crazy twisted place where all a woman has to do is be into trance music and suddenly there’s no need to vet anyone. I’ve got to be the most ignorant and clueless human being on planet earth. I’m disgusted with myself, but that doesn’t keep me for snapping a quick pic of the bikes because I’m going to eventually have to work out whose woman I shamelessly fucked in order to know how screwed over I actually am.
Chapter 4
Trix
Tonight, I’m sitting in the clubhouse talking to one of the oldest members of the Hellfire Hounds MC. Jamus is like a second grandfather to me. He has long, graying hair, dark eyes and talks a mile a minute. He’s telling me all about how my brother got himself caught breaking into the Savage Legion’s bar last year and was roped into working off the debt rather than them having him arrested. It’s a humiliating state of affairs for the whole club, but my brother most of all. Tracker had been acting strange for the past few months and as he wasn’t talking, I’d been determined to find out what he was up to.
Unfortunately, my mind is unfocused and keeps drifting back to what happened last week when my brother and two of his ornery sidekicks almost caught me in bed with that guy from the rave.
Since my grandfather is hell bent on marrying me off to the son of an allied club president, now was not the time get caught fucking around. I almost freaked out that morning when my brother showed up with Squirrely and Scrapper in tow.
Normally, I would have heard the roar of their motorcycle engines, but I was distracted by the sexy man I brought home from the rave who gifted me with morning after bonus sex. I remember throwing him out in a panic and jumping into the shower to wash away his scent while they waited to talk to me. It was too close a call, and an indication that I should be more careful moving forward.
Jamus’ hand slapping down on the table between us draws me from my internal thoughts. He’s angry and to be honest so am I. “There’s no use gettin’ all riled up about that stupid situation Tracker got himself into, but it’s a fuckin’ shame.”
“I hope he’s not getting worked too hard,” I respond absent-mindedly, before taking a sip of my coffee. I’d missed half of what he was saying. I needed to keep my mind on the present and not on a hot man I’ll never see again.
“Who the hell knows. This has been going on for months and every time your poor brother is close to paying his debt, they think up some other reason to punish him with more work. This is modern day slavery, I tell ya.”
I don’t even know why I’m surprised. “You mean they don’t even pay him?”
“No,” he growls. “They said he’s working off damages.”
“I hate the Savage Legion,” I say. “They’ve been messing up everything for you guys for a long time.” I can commiserate with my oldest friend because he complains about the Legion all the time. Jamus might not go into details because club business isn’t for outside ears, but he makes it known that he’s been good and frustrated with them for years.
“Yeah. Well, Tracker was a fucking idiot for listening to a dumbass like Scrapper in the first place.”
“Let me guess, it was Scrapper’s idea, right? Why in the hell would they do something like that knowing it could trigger retaliation that might wind up costing the lives of their club brothers?”
“You’re gonna love this, Trix. They thought vandalizing their bar enough to close them down to make repairs would cost the Legion money and in turn give Tracker, Scrapper, and the rest of the idiots they run with bragging rights amongst the brothers. The stupid fools almost got your brother thrown in lock up.”
My lips press together in a firm line as Jamus rambles on. “There is no shame in being arrested or even serving jail time, but it should be for a higher purpose.” Thumping his fist against his chest, he continues, “I served a stretch years ago for knifing an asshole who tried to kill King. If you’re gonna do jail time it should for a reason like that.” He gives me that wicked grin of his I’ve come to know so well. “Then again if I’d let them kill him, things might have been different.” His voice trails off, as he’s clearly thinking of times past.
I reminded him absently, “But you don’t like paperwork and managing men. You said it was like herding cats. You wouldn’t have wanted to be president.”
His face lights up with a genuine smile. “You’re damned right about that. King has too much responsibility and aggravation in his life. He used to be different when he was younger, back when—” He stops and takes a swig of his beer. “Anyway, we all changed. But being club president has sucked all the fucking joy out of his life. I hope the same thing doesn’t happen to your brother when his time comes. Tracker might be a bit of dumbass sometimes, but he’s got a good heart.” Wrapping the conversation back around to the original topic, he says, “That’s why I hate to see him getting taken advantage of by those Savage Legion fuckers.”