Ignite (Men of Inked : Heatwave #5) by Chelle Bliss




“Don’t you princess me, buddy. What the hell is going on?” There’s no missing her anger in her tone, which is dripping with attitude.

I lean against the handlebars of my bike, one hand against my ear, holding the phone, and the other one hanging freely. “Club business. Can’t talk about it. You know the rules.”

Her breathing is heavy on the other end of the line. She’s silent for a moment, but it doesn’t last long before she lays into me. “Club business is always so convenient, but let me tell you something…”

“Fuck,” I mutter. I raise my face toward the sky, letting the sunshine give me warmth from her icy words.

“When you call my family, asking them to come help you, that makes it my business. So, don’t you go telling me it’s club business and you can’t tell me anything. Pike and Jett are headed your way, and I want to know why.”

“Nothing has happened. I’m near them, by myself, and my bike decided to take a shit on me. It’s as simple as that.”

“By yourself?” she screeches, making me wince at the shrillness in her voice. “Wait. Hold up.”

So, I do that.

I wait.

I hold up, staying silent.

“Answer me,” she says.

“You told me to wait,” I grit out, being a smartass and already over this conversation.

“Men are impossible,” she groans. “Are you seriously by yourself?” I’m pretty damn sure if she could, she’d reach through the phone and strangle me. There’s no ounce of cute left in her at this moment, only anger.

“I am.”

“Why would Morris and Tiny do that? You don’t go anywhere alone, Mammoth. Nowhere.” She draws out the last word, almost yelling it directly in my ear.

“I know that, but it was supposed to be a quick and simple job. Between my bike acting up and not being in Disciples’ territory, I decided to make the call.”

“You made the call, but didn’t bother to call me?”

I grunt a response back without adding any words. There’s nothing more to be said.

I knew what her response would be.

I knew she’d freak out and lay into me, which is what she’s doing, even though I didn’t make the call to her.

Fucking Gigi and Lily and their inability to keep information to themselves like all Gallo chicks. They have allegiance to one another, and nothing or no one can change that.

“I’m going to call Morris and—” she starts.

“No, Tamara. You will not. You keep your mouth shut. It’s none of your business.”

“Excuse me?” she whispers. “Keep my mouth shut?”

As if I don’t have enough shit on my plate, a pissed-off Tamara Gallo isn’t something I want added as a side dish. “Women don’t get involved. I’ve told you that a hundred times. I don’t need you calling Morris to tell him off for doing something you don’t like. This is what I signed up for when I joined, Tam. I do as I’m told, and if you want me to ever get out of this life, you need to sit back, be quiet, and let me do what I have to do and do as you’re told too.”

“I don’t like it,” she grits out, probably thinking of every way she’s going to torture me for laying down the law the way I just did.

“Neither do I, but I got to do what I got to do. Now, when the guys get here, I’ll throw my bike in the back of the pickup, head back with them, and worry about this shit tomorrow.”

“Where are you waiting?” she asks, still whispering.

I’m not fooled by the softness in her voice. I know she’s pissed. I told her to keep her mouth shut, and that was a slap in the face. I could’ve said it nicer, explained things in a less harsh way, but Tamara never wants to listen when it comes to the club.

“A parking lot.” I leave out the simple fact that it’s a parking lot at a strip club. Tamara would have another fit and one I don’t want to hear right now.

“Don’t leave without them.”

“Again, not moving until they’re here, babe. I don’t think my bike would make it another mile anyway. Anything else?”

“I’m mad at you,” she admits like it’s a revelation, but at least this time, her voice is more forceful.

“Really? I couldn’t tell from all the attitude you’re throwing my way.”