Page 11 of Tess, Property of Blaze

Blaze

Iwalk through the main hall and head outside to my bike. The smell of rain hits my senses and I look up at the sky. Dark clouds are scattered above, matching my mood. I take out a smoke, light it up, and take a few drags. The sound of a woman moaning cuts through the silent dawn and has me looking toward the garage. I quietly walk up to see who’s the lucky man—Rhyder, always Rhyder. It used to be Trigger with all the ladies around here, but since he met Charity, he’s a changed man, pretty much the same as Quill, Hawke, and me. Since I met Tess, it’s only ever been her. I’ve never wanted anyone else, or even looked at another female; there’s no need. She’s it for me, and tonight… well, I thought I’d be celebrating with her, but it seems it hasn’t turned out that way.

I turn to walk away when Rhyder yells, “Hey, man. Wait up.”

I don’t look back, but keep walking to my bike. Just when I straddle it, Rhyder comes striding toward me with his jeans unbuckled, throwing on his shirt. I smirk at him when he’s standing before me. “Aren’t you a busy man right now?”

He turns back to the woman in the garage, who’s standing in the doorway and looks pissed. “Who, Brittany? I’m done with her anyway. Where you off to this time of night? Or shall I say morning?” he asks, looking at his watch.

I take a drag then throw the butt on the ground, looking around the compound. “Nowhere, man, just a ride.”

He must sense something in my voice because he slides his hands into his front pockets, then asks, “What’s up, man. You all good?”

“Fuck, man, you grown a pussy all of a sudden?”

“What do you mean, brother?”

“What’s with all the questions?”

He shrugs. “I dunno, it’s just… you’re usually stuck in your room with your woman, and something seems off.”

“Nothing’s wrong, man. Geez, can’t I just get some fresh air?”

“Sure,” he says, cocking an eyebrow.

“Look, I’m not up for one of these talks, I’m gonna head out.” I start up my engine and rev it. I can just make out the voice of a female calling out my name, and when I look up, Tess is standing in the doorway of the clubhouse. The sound of my bike muffles her voice, but I make out “Please come back.” The sight of her standing there in just my T-shirt makes my heart ache. She’s so fuckin’ perfect.

I rev my bike even more and look over at Rhyder. “I’m out.”

He frowns and goes to open his mouth, but I don’t give him a chance to talk. I just kick the stand, then ride through the car park and down the street, knowing a visit to my mom’s is the best remedy for my aching heart.

It’s close to 5:30 a.m. by the time I reach my mom’s; she’s nearly an hour ride, but her pancake breakfast with bacon and eggs makes up for it.

My mom lives alone. She brought me up on her own, and I can’t even remember my father. He died serving his country when I was two, and my mom has never gotten over losing him. My mom is beautiful, and even in her fifties still has striking eyes and long hair. She’s half English, half Spanish, and you would never guess she’s older than forty.

I still have a key to the house, and now and then I pop over to check in on her—when she’s home, for that matter. She’s always helping out at the local church, she cleans Father Hills’ home, and even cooks for him most nights. She loves helping the community and is always donating her time to help the homeless.

Walking quietly into the kitchen so as not to disturb my mom, I turn the coffee machine on and stare out the window, seeing the backyard I used to play in as a child. The fort I’d built with wood along the fence still sits there. Well, not completely sitting there—the weather has damaged it some, and the blue paint I used to paint it is now faded and peeling off.

I rub my face with both my hands, trying to ease some of the tension of the night. I don’t hear her walk up behind me, but nearly jump out of my skin when I feel a hand touch my back. “Dalton, when did you get here? Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you,” she says, moving back when I yelp in surprise.

“Jesus, Mom, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Hey, watch your language in this house.”

“Sorry, Mom,” I say apologetically, not even realizing that I’d cursed.

“Son, what brings you here so early? Is everything okay?” she asks, concern laced in her eyes. She glances around the room then back at me.

“What you lookin’ for, Mom?”

“Tess, where is she?”

I swallow hard. I told my mom that I was going to propose to Tess, she even gave me the ring my father gave her to propose with. The only problem is, she said no, and the ring still sits heavy in my jeans pocket, buried deep as a reminder that I never got to put it on Tess’s finger.

She shakes her head. “No, don’t tell me you didn’t ask her?” The sound of the coffee maker giving out one final gurgle breaks the silence. I turn to get a mug, but she quickly stops me with her hand on mine. “Here, I’ll do that for you, I’ll also fix you up some pancakes. You sit at the table,” she says, pointing to a seat.

I smile. “Thanks, Mom.”

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