Page 7 of In It for the Long Ride

I pulledup in front of Blaze’s school and parked in the long line of parents waiting for the afternoon dismissal. Carl still hadn’t stopped staring at me. His jaw was set, and his eyes were lit up with unspent adrenaline.

He looked dangerous, and if I was being honest, absolutely delicious.

“Fix your face, the boy is coming.” I sniffed.

He jerked his gaze away from me and shifted in his seat when he saw Blaze bounding across the playground. I hopped out, caught him in a bear hug, and helped him fasten into his booster seat.

“This is the part I hate about school lines,” I mused, once I was back in the driver's seat with absolutely nowhere to go.

“Waiting on everyone in front of you to remember how to drive again, now that their precious cargo is loaded?” Carl laughed, and abruptly grabbed Blaze’s shoe, producing a squeal from the backseat.

“How was your day, bud?” He got around to asking Blaze after a few minutes of them tormenting each other.

“Good. Montana, what are you doing without your motorcycle?”

“Well– Uh… I left it at the shop when Daisy offered to give me a ride,” Carl lied.

“Oh.” Blaze nodded. “Hey– Montana, how come your jaw is bleeding?”

I looked toward Carl and noticed his jaw had a deep purple line where I’d caught him with the corner of the car door. He reached up and felt around, for a few seconds before shooting me a look.

“I was clumsy and bumped it on the door when I climbed in,” Carl lied again.

I couldn’t help it, I started to laugh and though Carl tried to glare at me, in the end, he grunted with amusement.

“We’re going to talk about that temper of yours,” he quietly mused, staring out the window.

“Talk is cheap. Best to just swallow it and move on.” I snorted.

Blaze looked at me funny every time I called Carl by his given name. He grew up around the club and knew that each disciple had a road name, but I was the only one who called Carl by his legal name. His brother had passed away several years ago. I was pretty sure most of the club girls he kept at his side honestly believed his real name was Monty. He usually let them think what they would, as he did with most things.

The back of the vehicle was packed with clothes, necessities, and Blaze’s gaming console. I didn’t know where we were going, I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I just knew I couldn’t be a sitting duck with the boy once the mob realized what his mother was doing. Blaze needed stability, and I meant to see that he had it, but first we had to get through this thing safely. I had enough money in the bank to keep us tucked away for a few months in a hotel.

It’d leave me broke when we were finished, but I was okay with that.

“Where–where are we going, Daisy?” Carl asked, when I ventured off the highway and drove down the ramp to the interstate.

I swallowed, glanced his way, and then fixated on the rearview mirror.

Blaze was quiet. He was a good boy. Always, my good boy. However, I wasn’t foolish enough to believe that he wasn’t hanging on to my every word. Growing boys tended to do that, I’d learned when I raised his father and uncle.

Carl nodded when he saw me glancing in the mirror and cleared his throat.

“I got a place down the road a piece,” he offered.

“A place…” I scoffed, having seen what disciple hiding holes looked like.

Blaze’s father, Anthony, had once spent nine days in a trailer with rotting floors and busted windows when he was on a drug binge. The place didn’t have any heat or running water. Hell, even the rats wouldn’t fight him and his biker buddies over that shithole. I knew, because I’d helped Crystal track him down and drag his ass back home from that place. Twice.

“It’s between Nokomis and T-Town. Quiet little cabin on a lake,” Carl elaborated.

“I’m not taking my nephew to a spot, Carl.” The way I said ‘spot’ made it more than clear what type of cesspool I thought he was referring to.

Carl snorted and shook his head, staring out the passenger window, “It has nothing to do with the club, it’s a place I bought for my mother.”

I cracked my window for air. It almost felt like he’d slapped me. I’d never heard any talk of his mother being in the area before. He’d only mentioned her in passing during our time together, enough for me to gather that she lived out of state and that he wasn’t close with his parents.

“Your mother lives nearby?” I couldn’t help how low my voice became.

---