SCORCH

  CHELLE BLISS

  MEN OF INKED: HEATWAVE SERIES

  Same Family. New Love. Next Generation.

  Book 1 - Flame (Gigi)

  Book 2 - Burn (Gigi)

  Book 3 - Wildfire (Tamara)

  Book 4 - Blaze (Lily)

  Book 5 - Ignite (Tamara)

  Book 6 - Spark (Nick)

  Book 7 - Ember (Rocco)

  Book 8 - Singe - (Carmello)

  Book 9 - Ashes (Rosie)

  Book 10 - Scorch (Luna)

  Book 11 - Torch (Trace)

  Learn more at menofinked.com/heatwave

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  …and as a special thank you, you’ll receive a free copy of Resisting, a Men of Inked novella.

  SCORCH COPYRIGHT © 2022

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book may not be resold or given away to other people.

  Publisher © Chelle Bliss August 2nd 2022

  Edited by Lisa A. Hollett

  Proofread by Read By Rose

  Cover Design © Chelle Bliss

  Cover Photo © Eric Battershell Photography

  Cover Model: Jonny Kane

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  1. Nevin

  2. Luna

  3. Nevin

  4. Luna

  5. Luna

  6. Nevin

  7. Luna

  8. Nevin

  9. Luna

  10. Nevin

  11. Luna

  12. Nevin

  13. Nevin

  14. Luna

  15. Luna

  16. Nevin

  17. Luna

  18. Luna

  19. Nevin

  20. Luna

  21. Nevin

  22. Luna

  23. Nevin

  24. Luna

  Epilogue

  Letter from Chelle Bliss

  Torch - Heatwave #11

  Open Road Series

  About the Author

  Original Men of Inked Series

  The Heatwave Series

  Don’t Miss Out!

  PROLOGUE

  IAN

  Karma.

  It’s something I’ve never believed in until now.

  My past was awful…filled with horrible words and even harsher punishment at the hands of my father.

  But I wasn’t the only one to suffer. Each of my brothers had the same experience, all of us getting our turn being in my father’s cross hairs.

  For some people who’ve experienced repetitive trauma at the hands of someone who’s supposed to love them, there comes a point when they eventually fight back.

  We hit that day, the breaking point, years ago. Instead of gaining freedom from our abuser, we were imprisoned in another way.

  The corrupt criminal justice system in our small town did nothing for years, turning a blind eye to our situation, and once my father was gone, they still showed no mercy.

  My brother Nevin took the heat after confessing to causing the death of my father, explaining how it was self-defense. Not just in defense of himself, but the defense of all of us…the Walsh boys.

  But no one believed us.

  We had been spoken about in whispers since the day we were born. Many in town knew all too well what kind of person my father was, and they did nothing to stop him or rescue us from his clutches.

  When Nevin was arrested and eventually put on trial, the whispers morphed into something different. They no longer talked behind our backs, but instead, they made sure we knew how much they disliked “our kind” and how we must’ve been the children of the devil to do such a horrible thing to our father.

  None of us thought Nevin would go to prison. Isn’t the system supposed to protect the most vulnerable and the abused? That’s what I thought until I saw how the court system really worked.

  After he was found guilty, even as a minor, he was given more than a few years of prison time. Not juvie. Not probation. Nevin would go to the place where real criminals lived.

  There isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t think about the hell he must live. It has to be a constant battle to survive, especially at only seventeen and surrounded by full-grown men.

  Over the years, he’s pulled back, isolating himself from my brothers and me. He stopped calling two years ago. Stopped writing before that. He’s refused every visit we’ve tried to make, saying he wasn’t feeling well and to get rid of us.

  He shut us out completely.

  I haven’t laid eyes on him since the day I told him my cancer was in remission. I saw tears in his eyes when he heard the news. His shoulders relaxed, and his entire being seemed to shift when he realized I’d survive.

  “Ian,” Thomas, my friend Luna’s uncle, calls to me, pulling me out of my thoughts. “You ready?”

  I nod, running my hands up and down my legs before climbing to my feet. “Thanks for seeing me,” I tell him as I walk in his direction with a hand extended.

  “I’m always happy to help my family.”

  The words strike me. I’m not his family. My brother Dylan is by marriage, but not me—at least not technically. But that’s how the Gallos are. They’re kind people, willing to make their circle bigger, especially for those who have no one to call their kin.

  He shakes my hand firmly as he places his palm on my opposite shoulder. “Angel, hold all my calls and ask James to come into my office too.”

  “Sure thing, love,” Angel, his wife, says. Although she’s older, she’s still one hell of a stunner. The red hair frames her pale skin perfectly, and every feature on her face is beautiful.

  Thomas steps back, releasing his grip on my hand and shoulder. “Now, what can we do to help you today?”

  I take a deep breath, knowing what I have to do, and there’s no better time than now. I should’ve done it years ago, but I made a promise I couldn’t break.

  But today, I’m finally ready to do what needs to be done to set things straight.

  Confess.

  1

  NEVIN

  I blink, confused. “How?”

  “How what?” my brother Dylan replies.

  “How the hell am I out here?” I lift my hands, motioning toward the bright blue sky. “I had time left.”

  Dylan kicks at the cinders in the prison parking lot, sending them scattering in every direction. “Ian,” he breathes.

  “What did he do?” I ask as my stomach turns, threatening to spill the contents of my last shitty meal.

  I hadn’t spoken to a member of my family since I’d found out Ian’s cancer had gone into remission. I needed to separate myself from them, leaving behind all the reminders of the freedom and happiness I no longer had.

  Ian has struggled with his health for years. I knew he’d never make it on the inside of a prison, and once he went in, the only way he’d get out would be in a body bag. It was why I didn’t argue when the cops pinned my dad’s death on me. The less they looked, the better chance my brother would have to get treatment and survive.

  Dylan tips his face upward, his eyes barely meeting mine. “He confessed.”

  “What the fuck?” I whisper. “Why? I barely had any time left.”

  “He did what he thought was right.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “It is what it is.”

  “It’s fucking stupid. What the hell is a month after ten years?”

  “He didn’t want you to deal with parole, and he wanted your name cleared.”

  “Fucker,” I mutter, trying to control my anger because now my life is fucked, and so is his. “And they just took him at his word?”

  Dylan shakes his head. “He brought them the bat that had Dad’s blood and Ian’s fingerprints on it. He gave them the evidence they never bothered to look for before your trial.”

  “I want to see him. I didn’t do this much time for him to grow a conscience and make a dumbass decision that’ll ruin his life.”

  Dylan grimaces. “You can’t.”

  I stalk toward him, wishing I could punch him square in the face, but I need answers more than revenge. “What do you mean, I can’t?

  “Why didn’t you tell me or anyone?” he asks.

  “Tell you what?” I lift my chin, hating my brother more than I have in years. “That I didn’t kill our old man?”

  “Yeah, man.”

  “Would it have mattered? What was I supposed to do, let Ian go to jail for protecting the rest of us, where he’d probably die? There was no other decision to be made, Dylan. The only shot Ian had at getting better was to stay out of prison and for me to go in.”

  “Maybe things would’ve been different if it had been Ian on trial and not you.”

  “The justice system is the furthest thing from fair. Shit would’ve happened the same way with Ian sitting in my seat, except he would’ve withered away to nothing a
nd died alone. He would’ve been prey to all the sleazeballs behind bars. I couldn’t let it happen. Maybe you should’ve stuck around and helped protect us from the asshole. Maybe I wouldn’t have spent ten years in prison, and Ian wouldn’t have had to end his life.”

  “I couldn’t stay. It fucked me up,” he admits.

  “We were all fucked up,” I remind him, knowing exactly how life was and what we did to escape. We did everything and anything. Drugs. Booze. Generally being complete assholes and living up to the horrible reputation we already had. “Now, I’m not going to tell you again—I want to see Ian.”

  Dylan blows out a loud breath. “You can’t.”

  “Why the fuck do you keep saying that?”

  “He’s awaiting sentencing,” Dylan says, squeezing his eyes shut.

  “Fuck,” I snap, barely able to breathe. “When? Where?”

  “The judge said he’d take into account what led to that moment when determining his sentence. I think he’ll go easy on him when he’s sentenced next week.”

  “There’s no such thing as going easy on him. Ask me how I know.” I glare at my naïve brother.

  Dylan scrubs his hand down his face. “Things have changed since you’ve been inside.”

  I shake my head. The only thing that’s changed is my brother has lost his damn mind. “Yeah. My dumbass brother got a hair up his ass and confessed to a crime I just served ten years for to protect him.”

  “He needed to do this, Nevin. He needed to set things straight.”

  I shake my head. “He needed to keep living his life, forgetting I was inside, and keep his damn mouth shut.”

  “You’ll have to talk to him about that.”

  “Oh. I fucking plan on it.”

  I fold myself into the seat of his car as he does the same, throwing my few belongings on the floor between my feet. I have nothing to my name except old clothes, a few notebooks, and a couple of family photos I’d hung on my wall to remind me of why I was behind bars instead of Ian.

  I always wanted to protect my brothers. If I could take my father’s attention away from the others and get beaten instead of them, I did it. Pain was something that went away, but watching them being hurt lasted longer, playing out in my head on repeat.

  I stare out the window, watching the trees pass in a blur.

  My brother, being my brother and always a pain in the ass, asks, “Why did you shut us out?”

  I glance in his direction, staring at his profile as he watches the road. “I did what I needed to do to protect my sanity. As soon as I heard Ian was in remission, I needed to do the last so many years without the constant reminder of everything I would miss. I didn’t want to hear about all the great things you guys were doing or the girlfriends you were banging. I needed to create a barrier around myself or else I would’ve gone mad.”

  “You sent back every letter we wrote you.”

  “What I didn’t know couldn’t hurt me.”

  “But now you want to know?”

  “You still with that uppity Gallo chick?” I ask.

  “She’s my wife,” he hisses.

  I jerk my head back, staring at my brother in a new light. “You married a Gallo?”

  “Yes, Nev. I married her as soon as she’d have me. She’s good people. They’re good people. The best family I’ve ever been around. Nothing like the people who were in our lives.”

  “I can’t believe he married a Gallo,” I whisper to myself, turning my face back toward the window and the scenery I haven’t set eyes on in what feels like forever.

  “They’re not like you remember.”

  “I remember the asshole father always talking shit to us.”

  “You know we were pricks, though. He had three young girls with his fancy house, and there we were, living like trash and acting worse. Naturally, he’d hate us.”

  “And now?” I ask him.

  “He doesn’t treat me any different from his other son-in-law or any member of his family.”

  “Fucking unbelievable. She must have some magical pussy, brother. Magical fucking pussy.”

  “Watch it,” he warns me.

  I bark out a laugh. “Or maybe you’re the pussy in the relationship. Or judging by this car, maybe you’re a goddamn gold digger.”

  “I still can and will beat your ass. Doesn’t matter that it’s your first hour of freedom. You can talk shit about me all you want, but don’t say shit about my wife.”

  “Whatever, Dylan. I don’t have to fuck her or deal with her father, so what the hell do I care about that damn family?”

  “Ian’s grown close to Rosie’s twin sister Luna over the years. They’re damn near about best friends.”

  I turned back to him, confused. “Seriously? He’s best friends with pussy who’s also a Gallo? What in the actual fuck happened in the last two years?”

  He nods. “They’re thick as thieves too. She’s a good girl. A bit wild, but Ian’s not exactly tame either.”

  “Anyone else hooking up with a Gallo that I need to know about?”

  “No.”

  “Any other women? Anyone else married?”

  “No. They like the single life way too much. I think Mom leaving the way she did, when she did, fucked us all up pretty damn bad.”

  “That ain’t no lie.”

  Only a traitorous, uncaring, selfish bitch would leave her children behind with an abusive man. No one could ever convince me otherwise.

  “Did she ever come around while I was inside?”

  “Nope. Wherever she went, if she’s still alive, she was far enough away that the news must not have found her.”

  I bark out a laugh. “That’s bullshit. She didn’t care enough to check on us when we were younger. Why would she bother now? We’re nothing to her. Nothing.”

  “You’re probably right,” he replies.

  “Callum hates her as much as you, me, and Ian, but Finn, Quinn, and Sean are more forgiving when it comes to her. They were too young to realize how much shit changed when she left. She better stay gone. There’s no room for her in our world.”

  “Are you making the decisions for everyone now?” he asks, giving me the side-eye.

  “Nah, man, but I’ll do what I need to do so her dirt doesn’t rub off on anyone else. I won’t let her do more damage since she’s the only one breathing. We deserve more. We deserve better.”

  “We don’t deserve shit. No one does,” he mutters.

  “We deserve better than her. There’s no doubt about that. We didn’t deserve to be beaten on a daily basis, and we certainly didn’t deserve to be abandoned by the one parent who showed us a sliver of love. I’ll never do that to my kids.”

  “I promised myself the same thing.”

  We’re silent the rest of the hour-long ride back to the town where life wasn’t so beautiful, but it’s still a hell of a lot nicer than the prison.

  “We’re here,” he says, parking out front of our old house. “Luna’s here, along with the guys and Rosie.” He motions toward a truck parked next to us. “Be nice to Luna. She’s a good girl, and Ian wouldn’t want you to be a dick to her.”

  “Are they a thing?”

  “I already told you they were friends, asshole. Treat her right, or Ian will never forgive you.”

  “Forgive me?” I laugh. “I just did ten years in the joint for him. I think I’ll get a pass.”

  Dylan shakes his head. “Not when it comes to Luna. She walks on water in his eyes.”

  I shake my head and grunt. Everyone’s gone soft since I went inside. I no longer understand the people I had been closest to in the world.

  Never in a million years would Ian have been best friends with a chick unless he was sticking his dick in her on the regular.