Flameover - Esther E. Schmidt
PROLOGUE
Four years ago
– KAIN –
A wise man used to say, “It’s not your eyes giving you the visual, it’s your brain converting the information, allowing you to see what’s right in front of you.”
The wise man being my adoptive father, Broke Lawson. The one who raised me into the man I am today. I consider Broke my father in all ways since my biological father died when I barely had taken my first step. I might not remember my biological parents, but my adoptive parents made sure I knew who they were.
It’s also the very reason I wanted to become a firefighter. Just like my biological father. Okay, it’s also because Depay—a good friend and former colleague of my biological father—has been a massive part of my life as well. And with Depay being a firefighter EMT, let’s say it’s in my blood and has been an active part of my life.
I release a deep breath and I cross my arms in front of my chest while I watch some chick walk away. She basically gave up trying to catch my attention when I straight out ignored her. Tight skirt, big tits, model like figure and yet I show no interest at all because I could clearly see the dollar signs in her eyes.
Growing up in a motorcycle club where your dad’s the vice president—and a very wealthy man—really gives perspective on things. Mainly on women, but all people really. I learned the hard way how there are different kinds of people in the world. Most thrive on personal gain, some have respect, while others are anywhere in between. Yeah, I might be a young dude at the age of twenty, but I have got an old soul whose brain is drenched with information.
I like seeing what makes people tick. I blame it on Broken Deeds MC. The club takes cases the government hands them in secret to take on and gets justice by any means necessary. You might say growing up I skipped on jigsaw puzzles and jumped straight into solving cases along with my Broken Deeds MC family. It gave me a lot of specialized education.
Maybe that’s why I haven’t found a girl who spiked my interest; I’m too observant, always suspicious, and never let my guard down. And, dammit, for once I would like to have a chick interested in me for who I am; the guy behind the muscle and the cash in my name.
Some of it is probably my own fault because I’m standing here in the lobby of my hotel in Vegas looking like I own the place—which I do. The chick who tried to spike my interest overheard the manager introduce someone to me, making it clear to her I was the owner. Hence the dollar signs in her eyes when she noticed a potential sugar daddy.
My father always said it would be easier to keep distance while running a business. Though I always liked the more hands on, personal approach. Meaning my name is on the wall as the owner to give it a personal touch. I want the people staying in my hotel, spending their money in my casino, to know it belongs to a person not a company who only wants to suck all their money away.
This is also why I travel to Vegas every now and then to show my face and make sure everything runs fluidly. I never cared much about the bright city life, the massive cash flow, and especially not the easy, money hungry women who want to dig their nails into my skin and never let go. Well, maybe they do let go once the money is gone. Like I said, for once I would like to have a woman see me. Not the nametag, not the money, just me.
This is also one of the reasons why I moved to a small town six months ago when there was a job opening for a firefighter at Fire Station 13. The other reason is because of the link with my biological family’s background. I wanted to feel connected even though there are no living biological family members of mine left.
You might think my life is boring. And yet it’s anything but since I’m always bouncing between being a member of Broken Deeds MC, a business owner with millions to my name, and my job as a firefighter.
Though I relish in the way I’ve been living my life for the past few months. The long ride on my