Burned (Devil's Blaze MC, #2)(2)

“What’s wrong?” asks an older man, pushing through the crowd that has started to form around us.

“Her water broke,” I explain quickly, “and then she got pale and passed out. I don’t know. Help her, please!”

He starts moving around her, puts a hand to her face, then checks the pulse at her neck. Finally, his hands move along her stomach, examining.

He takes out his cell phone. “This is Dr. Crowell. I have a pregnant female unconscious outside the Movie Vault Theater. Her water broke. Her pulse is weak and there’s a hint of blood. It could be placenta previa. I need an ambulance, stat. Have the O.R. ready and meeting the bus.”

His words mean nothing to me. I don’t understand. I just know that I can’t quit crying. I can’t lose Bethie now, not when we’ve finally survived everything and are on the verge of being free…

Not now.





It’s been a f*cking night. Skull is trying to kill himself by hitting on Dragon’s woman at the movies. He’s not even truly interested in her, I can tell. I think she reminds him a little of Beth, but there’s no real interest on his part, that much is clear. Fuck, he hasn’t had a woman in his bed since Beth.

Beast and I help toss him on the bed and Beast grunts before going back to the woman he brought home. Maybe that’s a sign of hope because that in and of itself is a freaking miracle. Beast hasn’t looked at a woman since the day he lost his old lady and child. Chick he’s got tonight is Dani. Smokin’ hot, but something about her tells me she has more baggage than an airport. I don’t know what gets into my brothers. Chicks are made to f*ck and enjoy, then scrape off the bottom of your shoe. Jesus, didn’t the mess with Skull and Beth teach them anything? When she died, Skull grieved himself to death. And tonight, I know he was hoping Dragon would end his misery. I could see it in his eyes.

Skull mumbles in his sleep. He still clutches the empty bottle of Vodka he had in his hand when his head hit the bar. I didn’t even bother trying to take it from him. Chances are, when he wakes up, he’ll just start drinking more, so I was afraid to wake him. He puts away so much alcohol these days, I don’t know how he functions. Things need to change. I just don’t know how to drag him out of the hell he seems to be lost in. Hell, if I lived through all of the shit he has, I doubt I’d be in any better shape than he is—probably worse.

“Boss okay?” I look up to see Pistol standing at the door. I hate this f*cker. I’m not even sure why. A while back, he was making waves and trying to get enough votes to kick Skull out of his position. Skull beat the f*ck out of him, and things have been quiet ever since. Hell, Pistol has been the poster child for Skull’s biggest supporter since he almost lost his life after Beth’s father shot him in the stomach—but there’s still something about him that sets off f*cking alarm bells. I’d mention it to Skull, but shit, I doubt the man cares much right now if Pistol takes over the club. That by itself is some scary shit.

“Yeah man, just a little too much to drink,” I tell him, ready to get the f*ck out of here and away from Pistol. I plan on finding a woman and getting f*cking laid. If I’m lucky, maybe two or three women. A party is not a party until Torch shows up. Got to give all the ladies the attention they deserve.

“He’s been drinking more and more lately,” Pistol points out, and I can’t even say his tone is bad, but I want to punch the f*cker in the face.

“Yeah, well, he lost his woman and gave the order that killed her. That shit f*cks with a man.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Still, having a cocked cannon leading us… That’s dangerous. He could have caused a war with the Savage Brothers tonight.”

“Back the f*ck off, Pistol.”

“I’m not saying anything, I just worry. Same as you, Torch.”

“Whatever. I…” I trail off as Skull’s cell phone rings. I follow the sound, coming up to the nightstand. He mumbles but doesn’t wake. I don’t recognize the number, but it’s local.

“Shoot,” I say into the phone, my eyes flicking back to meet Pistol’s. I don’t trust the bastard not to knife me in the back. Fuck, or any of us in the back.

“I’m looking for Skull?” a voice comes across the other line and it reaches down and wraps around my cock and makes it throb. Strangest f*cking thing I’ve ever felt in my life.

“He’s busy,” I say, looking down at the man in question, annoyed that whoever owns this voice wants him on the phone and not me. I bet I could make her want me…

“Um… I’m calling for Beth.”

My hand tightens up on the phone and I’m close to crushing the motherf*cker. “What the f*ck are you playing at?”

“Listen, I don’t want to cause any problems. It’s just that Beth came to Kentucky to find Skull, but before she could talk to him, she went into labor. She’s at the hospital in London and there are some complications. I don’t want to go into it over the phone, but could you tell him that she needs to see him? Obviously, they have stuff to talk about. We’re in the maternity ward, and—”

“Listen, you f*cking cunt. I don’t know who you are, but there’s no way Beth is in a hospital. Especially here in Kentucky. She died.”

“She didn’t,” the woman argues back. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. If you’d just tell Skull to come down here—”