Wild Blaze (Back Down Devil MC 0.5)(8)

Lyle shook his head and turned around. He walked to the door. Heather wasn’t sure if she’d be allowed inside tonight. Not that it would be such a bad thing. Heather wouldn’t mind a night alone.

“I’m sorry,” Heather whispered.

She had no idea why she said it again. It only pissed Lyle off. He spun around, but Heather didn’t have the chance to see his face again. Instead, she was met with the back of his hand as she tumbled off the porch to the ground.





five.



“I’m going to wipe them all the f*ck out myself,” Gaige said, his words slurring bad. He stood from his barstool and almost fell. “Fuckers…”

Brody was there to catch Gaige and point him in the direction of his room. Gaige had a woman now and she could clean up after the mess he was going to make.

Behind Brody sat Blaine. He was calm, quiet, but he was angry. Hell, they were all angry. The night was carrying on and nobody could find rest. Three prospects were the at the hospital watching over Erik while the patched in members were in the clubhouse, drinking wildly, trying to find a way to suppress their anger.

“It was f*cking Eight Under,” Griffin said. He pointed a finger at Nate. “I’m f*cking tell you, bro.”

“Get your finger out of my face,” Nate said.

Brody saw what was about to happen and he started to move. Something grabbed and pulled him back into the bar. His back hit and pain seared through his legs. He saw that Blaine had grabbed him.

“Let them go,” Blaine said. “They need it. We all f*cking need it, brother.”

Brody gritted his teeth. The anger flowing through his body felt two fold. He didn’t necessarily believe in fate or any of that other bullshit. Not religion either because death was coming whether you gave a shit about it or not. Nothing would save anyone. Death was the finale. Death was the grand goodbye. But something had taken him to that little shit store today. He saved old man Ronnie’s life and saved Ana. All the while shit was going down at the clubhouse.

A f*cking bomb?

That was serious shit. That was a deadly move to make on the club.

“Don’t tell me what you think,” Nate said. “We’re not there yet. We’re letting it sink in.”

“Fuck you, Nate. This is real. This is…”

Nate grabbed Griffin and lifted him off the ground. Nate had a good six inches, if not more, on Griffin. He held him nose to nose.

“Don’t f*cking point at me,” Nate growled.

“Then do something about it,” Griffin said.

“Christ,” Brody said. He shook his head.

Nate put Griffin down and Griffin took a quick swing. He hit Nate in the face. Nate stumbled back and took a return swing at Griffin. Griffin spun around and fell to his knees. The entire clubhouse then came to life. Everyone rushed at each other. Everyone wanted a chance to get out some of the anger they were filled with.

Brody looked at Blaine. “Should we?”

Blaine stood and smiled. “Don’t hit me in the balls, okay? I plan on f*cking five women tonight.”

“You’re a sick motherf*cker, Blaine. Like… something is seriously wrong with you.”

“I know that,” Blaine said. “It just makes life…”

Brody threw a fist. He smacked Blaine in the nose, drawing blood.

Damn, that felt good.

Blaine lunged at Brody, eyes wide, going for his throat. They fell back and Brody tripped on a barstool. They were then on the ground, grappling at each other, trying to take shots. Blaine punched Brody in the ribs. The rings on his fingers hurt like f*cking hell when he punched. Brody threw his head forward and smashed it against Blaine’s face. Blaine let out a scream.

Then a gun went off.

The entire place fell silent. Blaine still had a hand to Brody’s throat still. Brody knocked it away and scrambled to his feet.

Miller walked from the meeting room through the clubhouse, handgun pointed in the air.

“Next shot is someone’s f*cking head,” Miller said. “Got it?”

Nobody said a word.

Miller walked to a pool table and leaned against it, arms crossed.

“I know we’re all f*cking angry right now. That’s fine. We were attacked. One of our brothers was almost killed. We’re going to fix this. We’re going to seek our revenge. We’re going to make whoever did this pay. But it’s not going to happen tonight. And not like this. Get a f*cking drink, get a f*cking reliever, and get to your room. Tonight is done. I see anyone else fighting each other, I’ll put you in the hospital.”

Brody wiped his bloody lip and approached Miller. The rest of the clubhouse was doing what their President had commanded to do.

“What is it?” Miller asked.

“I’m going to the hospital,” Brody said. “There’s nothing here for me right now.”

“We have prospects…”

“They are *s,” Brody said. “They left me hanging today when I was helping a friend. You trust them in a hospital? If someone wanted to come and finish the job…”

Miller gritted his teeth. “You been drinking?”

“No.”

“Go then. I don’t care. Keep an eye on the prospects then.” Brody started to move and Miller grabbed him. “You know, being there isn’t going to fix a thing.”