Taming Blaze Read online

  “Hey, Prospect!” I yelled, and the kid turned to me from behind the bar. “Give me a bottle of Jack.” I leaned against the bar as I took a drag from the bottle and surveyed the landscape.

  “Guillermo’s guys brought some sweet pussy with them tonight,” Axe said.

  “Yeah, I saw a girl earlier. Looked young.”

  “Yeah, she was with Mad Dog. Too young for my blood,” he said.

  A woman sauntered up to me, blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, wearing a checkered top that barely covered her tits and a pair of leather chaps with nothing underneath. Beside me, Axe whistled. “Hey there,” she said. She put her hand on my shoulder, hip jutted out to the side, giving me a full view of her pussy.

  “You supposed to be a cowgirl or something?” I took a drag on the bottle. It seemed rude not to offer it to her, although I didn’t exactly want to be swapping fluids with this woman. She had a nice body, but she looked like she had been around the block a time or two. Or twenty.

  “Why don’t you see for yourself?” She traced her fingernail down my chest. “I’ll ride, you try to buck me off.”

  Next to me, Axe hooted. I felt a stirring in my pants, and I guess I could have gone to the back with her, but honestly, I was fucked out right now.

  “That’s a nice offer, darlin’, but I think Axe here might be in greater need,” I said. She pouted, but turned her attention quickly to him. I looked at the bottle. Half of this and I’d be good.

  We rolled up to the gate on the bikes, Mad Dog, Tank and a couple of the other big guys. Gate wasn’t the right word. It was more like a compound, with tall thick walls on a huge Malibu estate. There were no neighbors directly on either side; I was guessing Guillermo had bought all of the plots around the house.

  “We’re here.” Mad Dog spoke into the intercom, his voice a sing-song, and the gates swung open.

  We parked, and the guys stood in the front of the house, gawking.

  “Shit, man, look at this place.” Tank pointed to the sculpted gardens surrounding the house, and to the fountain in the front. “Imagine having this guy as your neighbor? Neighborhood association meetings, that kind of shit?”

  “You can see me in a place like this, right, Blaze?” Mad Dog smiled, flashing his teeth, one gold capped. “Drinking tea with the Queen?” He pantomimed an exaggerated “tea sipping” gesture, his pinky out, and Tank laughed, his fat stomach shaking.

  “Yeah Boss,” Tank said.

  “Come on, you shitheads.” Being here was putting me on edge.

  Security patted us down and had us surrender our weapons, unsurprisingly. A bodyguard with a stony expression guided us toward an office. “He is expecting you. You two only.” He glared at the others, and Mad Dog nodded toward them.

  “Wait out here," Mad Dog said.

  Guillermo greeted us, dressed in a suit that probably cost more than my ride. The far side of the room held a heavy dark desk, and shelves lined the walls, filled with books.

  “Welcome,” he said. “I appreciate your coming here. I don’t get out as much lately as I used to. Security concerns.” He spoke casually, but I noticed a tremor in his hand. “Why don’t we sit?”

  I looked down at the upholstered chair, then back to my dirty jeans. Whatever. I sat down. Jesus, as expensive as these things had to be, they sure didn’t make them comfortable.

  “Let’s talk business.” Mad Dog was about to lay on the hard sell, I could see it in his eyes. He’d do most of the talking. I was there to back him up, because he was a good salesman when he had to be.

  “Yes,” Guillermo said. “Business.” He paused. “I am in need of protection. I'm not in the habit of thinking short-term. I want a long-term relationship."

  "You were working with the Furia MC," Mad Dog said.

  "I'm sure you've heard the rumors about them talking with the Armenians."

  "I've heard," Mad Dog said.

  Guillermo shook his head. "I no longer have use of their services," he said. "The Armenians are too flashy, run by people without any sense for longevity in this business. I don’t operate that way. It attracts attention I do not want to attract. Now, this nasty business- this betrayal by the Furia, has put me in an awkward position. I've had to change shipping routes, warehouses. I have no desire to be involved in anything high-profile - gang warfare, that sort of thing." He waved dismissively, as if it were beneath him.

  "Neither do we," Mad Dog said.

  "When I make an alliance, hire protection, it means you are working with me exclusively."

  "Absolutely," Mad Dog said. "We can offer you the full resources of the club. Whatever you need."

  Mad Dog was talking, and my mind wandered as I looked over at the bookcases on the walls. Volumes lined the shelves - Greek, Roman, Asian history. I wondered if he read these or if they were just for show. He did seem well educated, the type of guy who would have read all of these books. I narrowed my eyes, trying to read some of the spines from where I sat, and Mad Dog’s voice blurred as I let my mind wander. This room reminded me of Althea.

  Althea was my last foster mom, the one before I went to juvie. I reached her when I was fifteen, a few years in the system by that time - too far gone, or so I thought. She’d raised some thirty odd foster kids before me, but never lost hope- no matter what. I was running with a bad crowd then, trying to get jumped into this fucking white power gang in LA - not because I was racist but because I was white and everything fell out that way by race. I was a punk, propping myself up with aggression, attempting to maintain control, trying to get away from my life.

  Althea had this huge room in her house, at least it seemed huge to me at the time. What did I know? I was a fifteen year old kid whose idea of fine living was having a kitchen with a stocked pantry. She had this library in her house, a whole room full of books inside shelves that lined the walls from floor to ceiling. The bookshelves were filled with everything imaginable- history, art, mystery, old westerns- and she had encouraged me to read. Fill your mind with something other than the shit from the streets, she said, thrusting The Art of War into my rage-filled adolescent hands. This room was like being transported to another time and place.

  “We can do that,” Mad Dog said, looking at me.

  I cleared my throat, focused on the present. “Right.”

  “We’ve been growing, and we’re ready to expand,” Mad Dog said.

  "Do you have the capacity to deal with the kind of volume we're talking about running? I'll need warehouse coverage, protection for my trucks, interference at checkpoints. This isn't the small time meth trade anymore."

  Mad Dog nodded. "We have the muscle, and we cover the mileage up and down the coast now, through the southwest. The volume will be higher, but we have the manpower."

  “I have a shipment coming in on the tenth. Can your guys rally for that kind of volume by then?"

  Mad Dog smiled and I nodded. “We can.”

  “Good. Then that will be the first one. We can see how it goes." Guillermo leaned back in his chair. “There is one other thing I need from you. It’s a sensitive matter, a personal one.”

  “Say the word.” Mad Dog would have sold his mother at this point to get a deal with him.

  “I need to farm this job out, get it out of my circle.” He leaned forward, his voice low. “I’ve got a leak here-” He raised his hand before either of us could say anything. “I’m taking care of the problem. But this is precious cargo, and I need it handled appropriately, outside of my guys.”

  I nodded. “Anything.”

  “An old problem has come back to haunt me,” he said. “Someone who’s intent on destroying me and my family. He may have compromised my men, and I need someone completely uninvolved.”

  “Say the word,” Mad Dog said.

  “My daughter is part of the deal. He can come after me; I may be an old man, but I can handle myself. But her? I want her as far away from this as possible. I need you to take her someplace and lie low until this blows over.”