Blaze (Twisted Devils MC Book 4) by Zahra Girard

Author:Zahra Girard [Girard, Zahra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-05-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Tiffany

Still shaking with an overdose of adrenaline and indignant fury, I slide out of the back seat of the Uber and extend a hand to help Eleanor out of her seat. I haven’t felt like this since the first time I stepped up to the starting line for Stanford’s track team — on the verge of something new and terrifying, where the world seems so much larger, so much scarier, and no matter how much I’ve practiced or trained, I feel totally unprepared. All our options are disappearing, except for the illegal kind. And soon, the starting gun will go off and I will have to plunge into the scary unknown.

“Are you all right?” Eleanor’s voice shakes me to my senses.

I open the front door and hold it open for her.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry you had to see that mess back there.”

“That David is a dick, isn’t he? Why the hell were you ever engaged to such a petty little man?”

“Because he was smart and near the top of his class, and I had this idea that we would be this power couple, complementing each other’s careers, driving each other to be more successful, and that we’d take over the world.”

“Whatever threw that fantasy off track?”

“I got hurt. And, though David was great as a partner in pushing me to be better at my studies and career aspirations, he was just the opposite emotionally. All brains, no heart. Except, apparently, when it comes to getting angry.”

“Well, you’ve gone from associating from one end of the spectrum to the other; my Declan is all heart and no brains.”

I turn on her. Take a step closer and glare. “You need to ease off of him. It’s because he has a heart that he’s here, despite everything he’s going through, just to take care of you. He loves you. Be good to him.”

We’re hardly through the door when Eleanor’s Volvo pulls into the driveway and Blaze steps out. Seeing him in his strange getup still makes me do a double-take, even though I’m the one who helped him put that outfit together. He’s grinning like a madman and he has a picnic basket in his hand.

With no hesitation, he heads straight for me and pulls me into a one-armed hug and plants a kiss on the top of my head.

“What’s this all about?” I say, confused. And sniffling — he didn’t wash these clothes before putting them on and, after years in his closet, they are beyond musty.

He kisses my head again. It feels so good, even if he smells so bad it makes my eyes water. “You were right. Your plan worked.”

“You were able to learn something?” I say.

There’s an affirmative rumble in his chest. But, instead of kissing my head again — which is something that I hope he’ll do — he looks to his mother. “Tiffany and I need to talk about a few things. Things that you probably shouldn’t hear, because it might blow back on you. The less you know, the better.

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