Page 56 of Blaze

“Please no,” I cry, my tears soaking my cheeks.

“Trust-trust you to be a martyr even when I’m dying…” she coughs, and blood appears at the corner of her mouth.

“You’re not allowed to die, you’re supposed to be going to prison to change,” I sob as I press harder on the wound before I feel her hands grip mine, and I lock eyes with her. Her eyes are just like mine…

“I-I’m sorry,” she chokes, and I sob, “Please no, don’t…”

Her tears fall as she gently cups my cheek, “Mitchel is-is an addict, he-he owes money to the Chargers. I-I didn’t want to-to lose him be-because I chose him, I-I’m sorry I-I sucked, I…”

I shake my head, and she whispers, “Go save-save your husband…” Before she removes my hand from her chest and I scream, “No!” just noticing her grab the gun before she shoots herself in the temple, and I jump back as blood splatters everywhere.

Oh god, no!

And yet she called me a martyr.

I drop my head into my hands and sob, my head completely confused how she can go from trying to kill me to killing herself. A smashing sound echoes, and I look up as Snow runs my way before standing before me and growing at my now dead sister.

“Everyone always leaves me,” I choke before I remember what Poppy said, and I gasp before scrambling to get up, and I choke, “Snow, come!” as I run out of my home with my dog on my heels, only one person coming to mind despite being covered in my sister's blood.

Linc…

Chapter 27

Blaze

I frown as I look over the price list and then the blueprints for the remodel of the strip club, and the overall price just isn't fucking adding up to what we need done. If anything, the fucker is overpricing us, and I'm not happy about it, nah, actually, I’m fucking pissed.

“We’re going to have to find another designer,” I sigh and grab my phone before bringing up Crash’s number.

It rings five times, and just when I think it’s going to go to voicemail, as it has for every other fucking brother lately, the fucker answers, “Brother?”

“These designers you got me in touch with, where in the fuck did you find them?” I ask, and he admits, “Belle gave me their number, they’re her uncles or some shit. Why?”

“Because the fuckers are overpricing us by what I’ve so far calculated, a hundred grand,” I mutter, and he curses up a fucking storm.

“Is everything okay?” I hear in the background, and I raise a brow as Crash murmurs, “Yeah,” before he pauses, then says, “Actually, Winter, you do design on the side, right?”

“I do…” The woman, Winter, replies cautiously before my phone beeps, and I look to see Crash videoing me. I press accept before he appears with, fuck me, is that a beard?

“Nice beard,” I comment with a grin, and he rolls his eyes but with a smile before he pulls the phone further away from him, showing he’s in a fucking bookstore of all places, before a very pretty woman with mousy brown hair with a hint of blonde in it and violet eyes comes into view.

“Blaze, this is Winter, and while she’s a book nerd, she is also really good at design,” Crash mentions, and the woman rolls her eyes before she asks, “What is it you need designing?”

I clear my throat and admit, “A strip club, but it looks like I’ve been overpriced,” and instead of judging, she nods, then asks, “Can you go through everything that you’ve budgeted for and the price they’ve given?”

I smile and, giving her the benefit of the doubt because, to be honest, she seems sweet, I read everything off and the price the design company has given me, but the more I read off, the more the woman's frown deepens.

“What do you think?” Crash asks her after I finish, and she mutters, “You’ve been swindled, I mean, they are actually overcharging you by eight hundred seventy thousand dollars, and that is only a rough estimate. I mean, with what you want done should technically, including adding their services, come up to a hundred thousand, and that is it.”

Well fuck, that is more than what I estimated.

“Sorry, brother,” Crash sighs, but I shake my head.

“Not your fault,” I say before I look at the woman and ask, “Could you take our account?”

She winces and admits, “You’re what? Six hours away?”

I hum, “Yeah,” remembering Cage saying Crash is with the Dark Angel’s MC before asking, “Do you never travel for work?”