Page 29 of Vapor's Blaze

“I need more time to figure out what I want out of life.” I can hear the pleading quality to my own voice. “You on the other hand, have it all figured out. You’re a Hellfire Hound. You’ve got it made.”

He gives me a feral grin. “You’re not wrong about that.”

I look up into his smiling face and ask, “Do you ever think my mother died of something other than an overdose?”

The older man’s expression shuts down so fast it is scary. “Look Trix, take a word of advice from a man that’s been around Hellfire Hounds MC for a fucking long time. Do not ever repeat the question you just asked or speak of your mother’s death again.”

Deciding to take a chance, I lower my voice. “They say she died of an overdose, but I never saw her do any drugs.”

“Maybe she took them when you weren’t in the room. You weren’t at her side every minute of the day, right? Junkies are good at hiding their habit.”

“That’s true, I suppose.” My weak reply appeases him. But I remember the dream. It was filled with horrible things from when I was little, and it felt so real. It was real.

***

The next morning, I woke feeling empty and sad. Last night’s dream had taken everything out of me. In the cold light of day, the memories were still with me. Unlike normal dreams where the contents fade, in this case I could recall everything. That’s when I knew it wasn’t a dream, I’d been there when my mom died—that scary man with the drooping moustache and cartoon dog tattoo had killed her.

I look out the bars of my cell, Jamus is sitting in a chair reading a book, he must have sensed I was awake because he calls over, “You okay sweetheart? You look a bit pale.”

“I’m fine,” I respond, feeling anything but fine. “Just a bit fed up with my life.”

“Aw, girl. You know I wish I could help you. I’m tryin’ to make King see sense, but I think you’re just gonna have to let him take care of things.”

I shrug, it’s easy for Jamus to say that, but he’s not the one who’s going to be trafficked.

He gets up from the chair and hands me the book he’s reading through the bars, “This might cheer you up. I was sorting through my stuff last night and found some old albums. There are some photos of your mom and pops in there.”

I take the photograph album from him and sit down on the cot. It’s got that musty old smell, and the leatherbound cover is worn in places like someone has handled it regularly. I open it and the first photo is one of Jamus, he must be only sixteen or so. He’s wearing a fringed suede jacket and a stars and stripes bandana around his head. I stifle a laugh.

“We thought we were in Easy Rider, I was proud as punch then, ‘cause I’d just customized my own chopper. Took me weeks to scrape together the cash to get spare parts. That was one sweet ride.”

I continue turning the pages, there’s some photos of my dad with his arms around my mom, another of her holding a baby who I guess must be Tracker. They look happy, I don’t remember much about my dad as he wasn’t around a lot when I was young. Why wasn’t he? It’s like the first five years of my life had huge gaps in it. I was about to ask Jamus, when a photograph makes me gasp. It’s a shot of the Hellfire Hounds, I suppose it’s like a class photo where they’re all lined up. Standing on the edge of the group is a middle-aged man with long dark hair and a handlebar moustache, I’m already shaking, but when I look closely at his forearm, I feel like I’m about to pass out.

“Who’s that?” I ask, holding the book out to Jamus.

“Don’t ya recognize your Gramps? That’s King, though them were the days when he still had hair.”

He’s talking, but I’m not hearing anything of what he’s saying. I’m back in the past, five years old on the day my mom died. The scary man trying to reach under the bed where I was hiding. The tattoo on his forearm was a dog, Snoopy. I feel a chill run through me.

Jamus’ voice breaks through, “Yeah, he’d gotten it as a joke, but we told him that no one was gonna take him seriously with a fucking cartoon character, so it was reworked as a hellhound.”

My grandfather killed my mom, of that, I’m sure. Does Jamus know? I look at the old man, but he’s gone back to flicking through the album with a faraway look in his eyes.

I have to get out of here, I have to get as far away from the Hellfire Hounds as possible, because if I don’t, then my mom’s fate awaits me.

Chapter 11

Vapor

I walk into the clubhouse just in time for the special meeting Siege called in order for us to process the information we had gathered about the Hellfire Hounds MC. My brother, Haze, is already at the bar waiting for me. When he turns to look at me, I can tell he’s pissed. Being twins, we’re probably closer than most brothers. We were inseparable as kids and ended up working together. We took up inking and for a few years we rented booths from Tank, before we bought the shop from him. He’s one of the Savage Legion officers and that’s how we ended up prospecting and being patched into the Savage Legion together.

We usually tell each other everything. I don’t know why I didn’t tell him about going to raves or about meeting Trix. Maybe I just wanted something all to myself. Whatever the reason, it had hurt him, and I deeply regretted that.

I make my way over to him and we walk into the meeting room together. We grab chairs in the back corner of the room so we can talk while everyone comes in and gets settled.

Haze lights into me pretty damn fast. “What in the holy fuck is this I hear about you hooking up with King’s granddaughter? I never knew he had a granddaughter. Is she even fucking legal?”

My eyes narrow at him. “Stop being such a dipshit. Of course, she’s legal. You know that I don’t mess around with jailbait.”

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