Page 9 of The Heir

She gripped the air and started toward me, clearly expecting a hug. I greeted her with one and she fussed over me for a moment.

“My God, Blaze. You were only…” Her hand came down near her hip and she shook her head in amazement.

The door popped open, and what may as well have been a miniature copy of Izzy hurried to her side and tried to whisper in her ear. Izzy grabbed the girl's arm and spun her to face me, ignoring her attempts altogether.

“Wha—? Mo—m!” She stressed the word with a dramatic roll of her eye. She pulled away from Izzy, smoothed her sleeve and flashed me a smile that looked practiced.

“Stop acting like I’m fucking five.” She hissed at her mother after doing so.

Daisy gasped, and I didn’t know where to look. The girl was lucky if she was fifteen.

“Blaze, love. This is my daughter, Lucia. You haven’t met her before. She was born after you guys left for Georgia.” Izzy said, all but confirming my guess on the girl’s age.

Lucia’s big, brown eyes were lined in black, and she had fake eyelashes on that made it look like we might have a lift off if she blinked at me any more than she was currently trying to.

“I like your name.” She giggled.

“Me, too.” I nodded uncomfortably and cleared my throat. “I– uh… I should find my uncle.”

“Yes.” Daisy firmly seconded, flicking her polished nails against my shoulder. She gripped and steered me toward the door. “Let’s get this bike for you, so that you and Karlotti can–”

Her words were cut off as the door popped open in our face and Montana stepped inside.

“Hey, baby.” He stepped into her, and captured her face, kissing her deeply.

“Carl–” she mumbled before his mouth snuffed the words. He purposefully untangled her hands from me and urged me out the door with a wave of his fingers behind his back.

I could barely conceal my laughter. The man deserved a metal for his interference game. I took the steps two at a time and spotted Mayhem leaning up against a bike. He shot off of it and hurried toward me.

“There you are.” He grinned.

“How the fuck did you get away from Aunt Daisy?” Easy chimed in from my other side.

I laughed and Easy clapped me on the back and led us toward the garage.

“Wait ‘til you see it.” Mayhem shook his head. “Thats a bad mother fucker, man.”

“Yes, it is.” Easy proudly sang, as he moved to the back.

A brown tarp was covering it, but Easy leaned down and made quick work of unveiling my father’s bike. That’s what everyone had called it. I hadn’t even bothered asking what kind it was, but I couldn’t stop smiling when I laid eyes on the Dyna Super Glide Sport with the low-slung seat. It was like everything I’d ever heard about his personality was staring back at me.

It was definitely a beauty.

“You painted it up for me.” I said, stepping toward it and running my hand appreciatively over the shiny black and purple Steel Disciples logo on the tank.

“No.” Easily quickly shifted his head in denial. “No, Ant did that by hand. He liked the purple on black Disciple logo best of all.” He motioned toward it, in an absent, almost pained way. “That’s your dad, right there.”

I swallowed hard and traced the lines with my fingertip. My mouth went dry as it often did when I saw pictures of him. My mom didn’t bring them out often, but once in a while I caught Oak in his study with them over the years.

For a moment, my throat caught, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to take another breath.

“Hey.” Easy tapped my arm, snapping me out of it. “Hey, let’s get a beer, nephew.”

“Y-yeah.” I agreed on a gasp.

Easy sauntered ahead of us toward the garage. A pair of girls were standing in front of a cooler, ear to mouth, oblivious to our approach.

“Shit, it must be good…” Easy exclaimed, with a wave.

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