She began to rapidly blink and I realized she was fighting tears.
“Fine.” Crystal sniffed. “Fine, come in and spend the night with us. In the morning, you and Blaze can head out.”
Her voice cracked and she shifted past Oak before I could say anything further.
“Damn it,” I softly cursed.
“It’s for the best, Daisy.” Oak sniffed, shutting the door, and sealing me in with my own guilt and thoughts.
Chapter 2
Montana
I hadsweat dripping from places I didn’t know it could be produced. I kept swiping at my forehead to keep the shit from running into my eyes, but every now and then I’d feel the familiar sting at the corner and my vision blurred up all over again.
“Damn, man.” Demon looked as miserable as I felt. His shirt was soaked, and we weren’t any closer to figuring out the source of the engine trouble.
I followed him out of the shop and we both stood in the open breeze, glaring back at Mark’s bike with unspoken curses resting on our faces.
“It ain’t right being this hot in fuckin’ September.” He grumbled.
“It ain’t September for another week,” I reminded him.
“Shit. Might as well be Halloween, for all the differences it makes. It’s still hotter than a whore sitting on a preacher’s lap–” He trailed off midway through his bitching and I glanced over to see what had sucked the wind out of his sails.
All the laughter left me the moment I spotted Daisy.
When I saw how disheveled her long, salt-and-pepper curls were, the dark circles under her eyes, and the rage coursingthrough her arms as she leveled that pistol at me, I honestly thought she was gonna pull the fucking trigger.
“Daisy,” I barely found enough air to shove her name out.
“B– boss, last time you said not to–” Demon was clearly conflicted.
I raised my hand, letting the Road Captain know, bullet or not, I wanted him to stand down. Whatever happened here was between me and her.
“That’s cute. Real fucking cute, Carl,” Daisy started to let loose, before scoffing, “Fucking boss. Do you feel like a boss? Hm? All the bodies falling lately…does that make you feel in control? How about all the kids this street war has left without parents? How about the parents without sons? Do you feel fucking righteous, Carl?”
“W–who the fuck is Carl?” Demon sputtered.
He’d at least had the good sense to raise his hands up, so she didn’t feel threatened. Daisy was under a lot of stress lately. It was bad enough that her sister had met her future husband, because of my relationship with Daisy. The husband who would go on to kill her in a meth cook gone wrong, to make matters worse, her nephew Anthony had been lost in a war between the Steel Disciples and the Valentino mob. Now her only remaining nephew was strung out, and recovering from a bullet wound that the Disciples put in him. The only one that stood a chance was little Blaze.
Why couldn’t she just go be with Blaze and make sure he remained on that untouched path? Why the fuck did she have to show up here, at my fucking auto body shop talking about shit that no broad ought to be talking about.
She stepped forward, her brown eyes wider than I’d ever seen them. They were bloodshot and haunted. I’d spent a few years in a tiger cage overseas when I fell prisoner during the war. I knew that look in her eyes. I’d had the same look for years when I camehome. I knew something had happened, but I didn’t know what, and I didn’t know how good she was mentally. So, I kept my hands raised and took a deep breath.
When she took the next step and hefted the gun, Demon lurched. He grabbed her wrist and twisted it. Pain flashed across her pretty features, and she let go of the pistol.
It didn’t matter. The moment he became aggressive toward her, I forgot about the damn gun. I stepped and put every bit of my weight behind the punch I aimed at the side of Demon’s head. It hit solid, too.
He whirled in shock, raising and pointing the weapon at me.
“What the fuck?” he wailed.
“Best pull the trigger or put that piece down, boy.” I held my arms out, Jesus style, making a good target out of myself.
“Christ, Monty. You old mother fuckers are crazy!” Demon wailed, holding his jaw, and lowering the pistol.
“I told every one of you not to put your hands on her, didn’t I?” I shot back, not an ounce of sympathy in my voice.