Wild Blaze (Back Down Devil MC 0.5)

Wild Blaze (Back Down Devil MC 0.5)

London Casey & Karolyn James




one.



When the rumble of the engine died, that’s when reality came back. And reality was sometimes best left for someone else to deal with. For Brody, he rode the streets of Frelen where needed, and when, letting the Back Down Devil patch on his leather cut speak louder than his words ever really needed to be. It was nice to fit in, nice to have something that felt like a family, but the offset was that there were bullets waiting to break his skin and slice up his insides.

Brody stepped off his motorcycle and went into the small store. The dive store used to sell gas; the gas pumps were now rusted skeletons that remained in the middle of the cracked lot, chains around them. There was no more gas in the pumps, even though one of the chains had been cut. Probably some burned out, druggie looking for either a cheap high or to use the gas as a form of currency for his next high.

A small bell rang at the top of the door. Behind the counter stood a beautiful young woman. Her hair was blonde and a little messy, nothing a brush and two minutes wouldn’t fix. Her face was round and innocent, her blue eyes blazing. It was a damn wonder that something bad hadn’t happened around here with her, but maybe nobody gave a shit about the little store. The woman behind the counter had no idea what her beauty and body possessed, and that was a little scary.

But it wasn’t Brody’s problem.

He walked down the second aisle and stopped at the chips and snacks. He touched a bag of corn chips and smiled. The date on the bag said they were best used three months ago. That didn’t surprise Brody. Everything in the store was probably expired. The back wall contained the refrigerated parts. The place used to sell milk, chocolate milk, orange juice, and even at one point, eggs. That part was shut off now, a stray gallon of who the f*ck knows remaining. The other part of the refrigerator unit held drinks, off brand sodas, water, and energy drinks.

Brody used to come here and rob the shit out of the place. The corn chips were his favorite. He’d fill up his shirt and his pants as much as he could, knowing it was his only chance at having a meal for the day. Old man Ronnie was always preoccupied with his small TV and game shows, a cigarette hanging from his mouth, his right hand scrubbing a penny against a lottery ticket. His fingertips used to be stained black from scratching the lottery tickets all damn day.

There was one time when old man Ronnie caught Brody stealing. He’d gotten too cocky and tried to steal some ice cream from the case (which was now unplugged, empty, and had a faded cardboard sign of a man on a horse puffing a cigarette). As Brody left the store, ice cream plopped out of his shirt and old man Ronnie lost his shit. So Brody turned and pulled out a gun. That shut the old man up and Brody was never bothered again.

Years hardened Brody’s heart but left a small soft spot for this place. The amount of shit he took was a lot, but more so, it kept Brody alive.

Brody put the corn chips back and walked to the counter. The beautiful woman behind the counter was named Ana. The tilted name tag stuck to her tit said so.

“Hey,” she said, her voice silky and innocent.

“Hey yourself,” Brody said and grinned. “What are you still doing here, Ana? There’s got to be something more out there for you.”

“Papa needs me here,” Ana said. “You know this place. It’s all he has. Besides me. If I left…”

Ana shook her head.

Brody had heard rumors of where Ana came from. Old man Ronnie had finally hit on a lottery ticket twenty years ago. Thirty grand or something like that. Not really a jackpot, but enough to make an addict feel really good. So good that the old man closed the store, put up a sign that read f*ck you, I’m living large, and left. Brody was too young to know all of this, but he remembered his taking him to an auto garage instead of taking him to school, where a group of guys would talk, drink, and do some crazy shit. That’s where Brody heard the rumors about old man Ronnie. The old man went to Vegas and blew his thirty grand on gambling, *, and a hotel. If that wasn’t enough, a year later, a woman showed up with a baby. She put the carseat on the counter and told old man Ronnie the baby was his. She said it was bad enough her body was ruined, she didn’t need her mind and social life ruined by some kid that cried and shit all the time.

Welcome to the world, baby Ana.

But the old man took care of Ana. He loved her. And she turned out to be a beautiful young woman. Rightfully so, considering her father paid a lot to f*ck her mother.

“I get it, sweetheart,” Brody said. “Sorry I asked. Just making sure you know there’s a big world out there.”

“Big and scary,” Ana said. “Then again, it’s pretty scary here sometimes.”

“Quiet, huh?”

Brody heard the sound of motorcycles and he backed up and looked out the front of the door. There were two motorcycles approaching. Brody recognized them quickly and saw they were Lane and Jack.

Fucking prospects.

They were like little puppies looking for their way home. Unable to make decisions on their own. Worried about dying and fantasizing about the life and the women.

“Who is it?” Ana asked.

She leaned forward and bit on her bottom lip. Her breasts pressed against her shirt. Brody stared only for a few seconds. Bad enough he had robbed old man Ronnie for years, he didn’t need to rob his daughter of her body and her perfect little cherry waiting to be popped.