Beast: Learning to Breathe (Devil's Blaze MC #5)

I listen as Hayden’s breathing evens out, and I know she’s asleep. The last thing I want to do is get out of this bed right now. I’d rather stay here, hold her and forget the outside world. However, I know that’s not an option. Hayden hasn’t asked about the preacher, which surprises me a little. Maybe her time with the Dwellers taught her it’s better not to know. Shit, maybe she’d just rather not know what is going to happen. Either way, it works good for me, because it’s not something I want to discuss with her. I can’t help but find it ironic that the harder I run from my old life, the faster it seems to find me.

Slowly, I stand, getting dressed as quietly as I can. Looking down at Hayden, her hair is messy and ruffled around her head and shoulders, the moon is shining through the window and it highlights the different shades and colors in her hair—strawberry, caramel, and dark blonde…all combining to be beautiful. Her face is delicate and soft in sleep, and her lips are swollen from earlier. I can’t resist bending down to place a kiss on her forehead.

She makes a sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan, stretches, and then she whispers, “Michael.” My name on her lips, while she is asleep. That does something strange to me. Hell, a woman like Hayden whispering your name while she’s sleeping? That would do something to any man with a pulse. It’s not any man though. It’s me.

With a sigh, I leave her. I know the sooner I leave the sooner I will return. I don’t like leaving her alone—not with Blade still on the loose somewhere. Victor might have neutralized the Dwellers, but he left one snake alive in the nest. I want him dead. There is only one way to kill a snake—you cut off the head. I walk into the living room, shoving my arms through the sleeves of my jacket.

“You don’t let anyone in here except Crusher and Dani. I don’t care if they say they are the damn Pope,” I order them. Most of Diesel’s men have gone back. Crusher and Dani are at the barn, and Crusher chose two of what he says are his best men to stay in the house with me and Hayden—Devil and Ice. There’s one other man watching the outside of the house.

“Got it. Shoot first, ask questions never,” Ice says with a shrug.

“Exactly. I’m headed to meet up with Torasani.” I turn around, thinking just to be safe I’ll wake Crusher up and send him over here. I’d feel better if he stayed close to Hayden—even if the fucker managed to get himself knocked unconscious last time.

“Don’t you think it’d be better if you had someone with you? Someone to help watch your back?” Ice adds.

“Just keep Hayden safe. That’s all that matters,” I tell him, not bothering to look back, dismissing both of them from thought, my mind already on what is ahead.

“No offense, but if you head out alone and end up buzzard bait, you won’t do that girl in there a bit of good,” Devil says.

I turn around to look at him.

Actually, out of all of Diesel’s men I have to say these two are good. They’re no nonsense, and no drama. They look completely opposite of one another. Both are probably in their early thirties, but that is where the similarities end. Ice is blonde with bright blue eyes. He’s bulked up and ripped as hell, but he’s probably five foot ten, maybe eleven. He looks like he’d be more at home in a suit than leather. He’s almost too pretty, if I hadn’t been watching him closely the last twenty-four hours, I’d say he’s just playing biker to piss off his rich father.

Devil, on the other hand, probably stands around six foot three or four. He’s got green eyes and dark brown hair, cut short on his head, with a beard that looks more like he’s forgotten to shave for a few days. He’s tall and lean, but something about the way he carries himself tells me he could take almost anyone in a fight. He looks like he was born into this life—much like me. I wonder if it will chew him up and spit him out, because that’s sure sums up what I feel like these days.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” I mumble, annoyed.

“Maybe not, but Devil has a point. Besides, I got Trace outside watching the perimeter. Between me, him and Crusher, we’ve got this. That asshole shows up anywhere around here, he’s dead. He knows it. He won’t chance it. Fuck, I’d lay odds that he’s half way to Mexico right now,” Ice adds.

“Never underestimate stupid,” I warn him. “Let’s go if we’re going, I need this shit done, and you better not get in my way,” I growl to Devil, giving in.

“They warned me you shit sunshine and fart rainbows,” Devil mutters, passing me to go outside to his bike.

I grunt in response, I could almost like him.

You can bet I’m going to wake Crusher up on my way for sure now. If I can’t stay in bed and enjoy Hayden’s body, he sure isn’t getting to play with Dani.





89





Beast





It’s close to two in the morning by the time we make it to the Dwellers. Being here makes me sick. Even the air seems to stink in this place, as if Mother Nature knows what kind of filth lived here.

“Damn, this place is a real shithole,” Devil says when we pull up to the clubhouse and shut off our bikes.

The parking area is hard-packed earth with stray gravel here and there. You could almost choke on the dust—even with the dew on the ground. The outside of the building is covered in mismatched green and brown tin. It’s been slapped up and cut at angles that don’t line up with other pieces. They’re just butted against each other without care or thought. There are few windows in the building. The ones that are there look like antique, wooden ones. The glass is clouded and foggy in appearance. It’s either from weather allowing condensation to slip between the panes, or years of filth. It might be a mixture of both. Trash is littered around the building. Everything from beer cans and liquor bottles to remnants of fast food containers. Clearly, the Dwellers lived up to their filth in all aspects of their lives.

It’s harder than hell for me to imagine Hayden here among this shit. Maybe this is why she cleans all the time. Hell, I once caught her sweeping the fucking ground around her front steps—as if she was trying to make the dirt clean. If you were forced to live in this, that would explain the need to be clean now.

I walk from my bike to the front doors. There’s two steel doors at the entrance and in front of those are two men almost as big as I am—but dressed in suits. Apparently, even Victor’s henchmen have to dress up to his standards. In my peripheral vision, I can see a small building and I know intuitively that it is the place Hayden tried to hide. A fine tremble runs through my body, causing my hand to shake. I clench it into a fist to disguise it.