Finally, his entire head was sheared down to less than a quarter of an inch. I wanted to cry.
“Thank you.”
I nodded but couldn’t speak around the giant lump in my throat.
Though he was still beautiful, he looked gaunt, bruised, scarred, and haunted. He pulled his icy eyes from mine, his head dropped, and his shoulders heaved. It was damn near like staring at a living, breathing image from a POW camp.
Heartbreaking and disturbing.
Tentatively, I reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder. He flinched but then relaxed somewhat. When he didn’t push me away, I gently maneuvered him so I could hold him.
He didn’t speak, he didn’t make eye contact, but his once massive arms wrapped tightly around me. His face buried in the crook of my neck as his body shook with silent but tormented sobs.
I hated to think of what he had endured at the hands of Stefano, and I nearly buckled under the weight of the guilt. If not for me, this man, this amazing father, would have been in Texas safe and sound with his daughter.
My own tears ran unchecked down my face and neck to pool with his. As I stroked his back, I mentally cringed at the ability to feel his ribs. Those glorious muscles I remembered so well in my dreams were but a memory.
“Hey. How about if we get in the shower? For old times’ sake?” I tried my damnedest to lighten the mood.
Nodding against my skin, he stepped back, arms falling limp to his sides.
“Sorry,” he whispered. He wouldn’t meet my gaze, so I gave him few moments to regroup while I cleared Presley’s toys out of the tub, then started the water. Using the excuse of waiting for the water temperature to stabilize, I wiped my tears with the shoulder of my T-shirt.
Unashamed, I undressed as he waited. Once I was naked, I reached to help him untie the hospital scrub pants that hung low on his narrow hips. Surprisingly strong, though shaky, his hands closed rapidly over mine, and he slowly pushed my hands back.
Fumbling, it took him several tries to get the simple tie undone. Frustration colored his face red by the time they loosened and dropped to his ankles.
I desperately wanted to reach for him to offer him a steadying hand as he wobbled when pulling each foot free of the pant legs. Deep down, I knew he wouldn’t welcome it, so I waited.
“You climb in first,” he rasped.
“Sure.” Standing at the edge of the warm water, I allowed him to use my shoulder to steady himself.
“I meant to ask you how you got that brown spot in your eyes,” I asked to make conversation. I’d noticed it that first night. The one that seemed a million years ago, but there’d never been a time to ask.
“It’s called heterochromia iridis. Basically, a variety of color in a single iris. My dad has it, Gunny has it, I have it. Came on when we were about six, I think. Genetic shit.” He shrugged and closed his eyes.
Evidently, that conversation was over.
Tipping his head back in the water, I watched as the hot streams washed over his head and flooded down his face. For the first time since I saw him sitting chained to that chair, he looked at peace.
Loath to interrupt, I grabbed the shampoo and poured some in my hand. “Turn around?”
While he did what I asked, he braced both hands on the wall. The soft moan that escaped him as I lathered the bristly, short hair did stupid things to my body. It hadn’t gotten the memo that Matlock wasn’t the same man, nor was he in any way prepared for what it wanted.
Trailing my soapy hands down, I massaged his neck and shoulders. When my hands tried to work their way down his arms, he pulled away and dropped his head into the water. The foam had taken a faint pinkish-brown tinge, and I knew it had to be from dried blood. I hated it.
He remained that way until the water ran clear. When I tried to wash his body with a scrubby, he took it from me, held the wall with one hand, and scrubbed himself with the other before switching.
Standing there doing nothing left me feeling overwhelmingly useless. I washed myself for lack of anything else to do. Except, instead of allowing him to switch spots with me so I could rinse, I stepped under the water with him.
“Lock. Please let me be here for you. Let me help you the way you helped me,” I pleaded, and his eyes clouded.
His snort of derision startled me. “If I’d helped you, you wouldn’t have witnessed any of that today.”
“If it wasn’t for you, I may not have even been alive to see anything today, goddammit!” Not wanting to fight with him, I reined in my temper and ripped the shower curtain open. He was so frustrating, but I knew he’d been through hell. I needed him to let me be there for him. It was the only way I could see myself being able to compartmentalize everything that had happened and all the shit I’d witnessed. I needed a fucking purpose like I needed my next breath.
Dripping water on the floor, I jerked two towels, one after the other, from the small cabinet and slammed the door.
During my brief moment of anger, he’d shut the water off. Not trusting myself to be kind, I handed him his towel and dried myself with furious motions.
Warily, he watched me as he slowly dried himself. The towel wrapped tight around him, he held the edge of the shower to step out of the tub.
My anger quickly faded as I stepped closer to be his shoulder for support.
“Jesus, Raiven. Please put a towel or some clothes on?” At his hoarse request, I looked to him in confusion, to see him staring intently at the ceiling. The bulge in the front of his towel gave away the problem.
Honestly, I was surprised he had it in him to be turned on. That surprise didn’t stop the little zip of satisfaction that sped through me. Ever so slowly, I dried myself again, even though I’d already done it, then wrapped the towel, securing it over my boobs.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Do I embarrass you? Repulse you?” Eyes wide, I blinked innocently.
When he growled, grabbed my hand, and pressed it to his massive erection, I gasped and my lips formed a silent O.
“I think you know exactly what you do to me, but I’m in no condition to do a motherfucking thing about it.” His blue-gray eyes seemed to glow as they bored into mine.
“Lock,” I whispered, part chastisement, part plea.
“I hate to ask, but will you help me get dressed? I want to see my daughter.”
Embarrassed that my anger had made me forget he had yet to see Presley, I ducked my head. Trying not to make it obvious that I was aware of how drained he was, I helped him to the room, where he sat wearily on the edge of the bed.
“What do you want to wear?” I asked as I dug through the drawers I had filled with the clothes he’d brought with him initially. There was no rationale for why I’d unpacked, washed, dried, and put away his clothes in the drawers next to mine. Except for my unwavering hope that he’d make it back here.
“Jeans and a hoodie. Grab me a T-shirt too. Please,” he tacked on almost as an afterthought.
“Lock, it’s damn near a hundred degrees out there. This place is like a fucking oven in the summer. I don’t know why no one ever told me that before I agreed to move here.” I muttered the last to myself, but he heard.
He actually chuckled. Though it sounded rusty, the sound was music to my ears, and I glanced up from digging through his clothes to shoot him a small grin.
“It’s not like I’ll be going outside and running laps. We’ll be in the AC, so we’ll be okay. I don’t want Presley seeing me… like this.” His gaze dropped to his lap, his humor quickly fading. It wasn’t like he was skin and bones, but he’d certainly lost a significant amount of his bulk.
“Of course. Sorry.” I pulled out a pair of cut-off shorts and a tank top for myself, pulling them on.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” A look over my shoulder showed his mouth hanging open and his eyes as wide as mine had been.
“What?” My brow furrowed, and I tipped my head in question.
“You didn’t put a bra on. Hell, for that matter, you didn
’t put any fucking panties on! There is no way you’re going out there half-naked in front of a bunch of horny-ass bikers.”
Propping my fists on my hips, arms akimbo, I glared at him. “You, Matlock Archer, don’t get to tell me what I will or won’t wear.” I raised a brow. “I’ve been wearing these clothes for weeks, and I’ve survived just fine.”
His storm-cloud eyes narrowed at me as his jaw worked back and forth. Thankfully, he chose to keep his further opinions to himself.
Plopping his clothes on the bed next to him, I leaned down and placed my hands on my knees to look him in the eye. I didn’t miss how his gaze flickered down the front of my shirt. With a smirk, I asked him, “Do you want boxers on? Or do you prefer to go commando?”
“Give me the goddamn boxers. I need something to help hold this thing under control.” He motioned to his dick, and my smirk curled wider.
Trying not to make a big deal of his weakness, I dressed him as he helped the best he could. “You’re going to need a belt,” I mumbled as I buttoned his jeans. Not realizing he’d heard me, I was shocked to hear him answer.
“No shit.”
When I looked at him in disbelief, he gave me his own twisted smirk, though his held little humor. “When you’re locked in the dark for weeks on end, you learn to rely on your other senses. I can hear very well.”
Blanching at the small snippet of what he’d been subjected to, I inhaled deeply.
“Right.” Grabbing a belt, I threaded it through the loops. Continuing to be so near to him was making my belly flutter.
Determined to nurse him back to health, I tried to gain control of my emotions.
It would only be repaying a debt. Once he was better, I would leave.
Fuck, this is going to suck.
“Begin Again”—Shinedown
Before we even made it to the main room of the clubhouse I’d only been to a handful of times since becoming a Demented Son, I heard it. The sweetest sound to ever hit my ears.
My daughter’s beautiful giggles.
It sucked that I had to stop halfway down the short hallway to rest, but each step was a struggle. Raiven stayed by my side the whole time. Patiently waiting.
God, I didn’t deserve her sweetness. Not to mention, it embarrassed the fuck out of me to have her see me like that. If I hadn’t been strung up and getting the shit beat out of me right before I’d been released, I might not have been so bad. I also hated that she’d quit calling me by my name and started calling me my road name. Except for when she’d chewed my ass.
Once my head quit spinning and my legs quit shaking, I moved forward. Seeing Presley riding around on Gunny’s shoulders as she squealed made me smile. It also gave me time to make it to a chair before he put her down. I’d never be able to stay upright when she barreled into me like I knew she would.
“Daddy!” Her shout was ear-piercing, but I loved it. Gunny set her down, and true to form, she ran at me, launching herself into my arms.
“Baby girl. God, I missed you.” Breathing in her sweet, soft hair, I held her tight. I never wanted to let her go.
“Oh Daddy! I missed you so vewy much!” She leaned back, and her small, chubby hands framed my face. “Why for you gone so wong? And where you hairs go?” Her pretty pink mouth flopped open when she realized my head was shaved. Blue eyes bugged damn near out of her head.
“Uh, it was hot. So I cut it off.” Proud of myself for my quick thinking, I grinned at her.
She frowned. “I no wike it. You grows it out.”
Raiven hid her smile and laughter behind the hand that had gently slid over my skin. Pulling my gaze from the beautiful woman hovering next to me, I smiled at my bossy daughter.
“We’ll see.”
“It’s good to see you, little brother.” Gunny spoke low.
“You too, brother. You too. I can’t thank you enough for staying down here and taking care of….” My eyes moved from Presley to Raiven. Though Raiven didn’t catch it, Gunny did.
He grinned, but where I may have once felt humor, I suddenly found myself questioning if I was worthy of her. I had issues before. Now my mind was teetering on the edge of insanity. Instability hovered in the wings.
Waiting.
Lurking.
It wasn’t long before everyone else who’d been holding back came forward. They’d been making sure I had a few moments with my daughter, and I appreciated that.
“Lock, bro. It’s good to see you.” I had no idea who had said it. There was a chorus of greetings from all my brothers, old and new. One faded into the next.
On the way back to the clubhouse, Styx, Smoke, Check, and Hacker had ridden in the SUV with me. They’d filled me in that my brothers from back home would be leaving tomorrow. I knew they had lives and families to get back to, but fuck, it burned seeing them and knowing it was going to be so short. I’d barely said my goodbyes and I’d be saying them again.
“Can I have a minute, everyone?” Styx spoke up. Knowing glances had my brothers patting me on the back or shoulder and saying they’d see me at dinner.
You’d think after being damn near starved for weeks, I’d be famished. The weird thing was, I had very little appetite.
“Hey, little Elvis, we need to go get all those pictures you made for your dad,” Gunny said, coming to the rescue.
“Otay!” She kissed me and hugged me one more time before jumping from my lap. She’d made it about five feet before she spun around, jerked from Gunny’s hand, ran back, and hugged me again. “I wub you so much, Daddy!”
“I love you too, princess.” Her smile, fuck, it was everything.
As soon as she returned to my brother, Styx spoke up again. “Lock, we need to discuss your recovery.”
I rolled my eyes. I didn’t want to talk about anything. I’d get better, and I was going to bust my ass not to feel the way I was at that moment.
“Don’t,” he warned. Then he proceeded to give me and Raiven instructions on eating frequent small meals, whether I thought I was hungry or not. There were lists of things I should eat, things I should do, things I should not do, workout programs and schedules. It went on and on.
“I got it, Doc,” I interrupted.
“Jesus, you’re a stubborn fucker. Raiven? You got all that?” He crossed his arms as he turned her way.
“Yes.”
“What, is she my keeper now? I need a babysitter?” Deep down, I knew I was being an asshole, but I couldn’t help it. In my peripheral vision I saw the hurt flash across her face before she schooled her features to her tough-as-nails persona she tried to pull off with everyone else.
Another reason I hated myself at that moment. I’d been weak. I’d let go of the two of them and used anger and hate to stay alive instead of the thoughts of seeing them again. Even though the tiny sliver of my rational side knew it didn’t matter what kept me alive, it still seemed wrong.
“No, she’s not your babysitter, but let’s just say she’s going to be there to prevent you from being a stubborn ass. Unless you want me to arrange for a home health nurse to come in and crack the whip?” He raised an eyebrow and smirked.
Fucker.
“Fuck no, I don’t want a goddamn nurse.” Surliness poured from me. I wasn’t that bad off.
“I’ll have it all printed up for you, Raiven, in case he tries to give you a hard time. That way you can show him the black-and-white proof.”
“For fuck’s sake,” I complained.
His expression went serious. “We need you as our SAA. You can’t do that until you’re in top shape. I’m pulling double duty as enforcer and SAA on top of working full-time. We’re too small of a chapter. We agreed to your jump because we need you. So I’d really appreciate if you’d not fuck around with my recuperation program for you.”
“It’s gonna really suck to have a nurse in the club, isn’t it?” I grouched.
Styx simply grinned. “That’s trauma nurse to you.”
“What-the-fuck-ever.”
Presley came running back.
“Daddy! Wook what I made you!” She had page after colored page for me. Seventy-five trees must’ve died for all that.
“Thanks, sweetheart. I love them.” Like a good dad, I looked at every single one of them and treated them like the precious gifts they were. She grinned from ear to ear at my praise.
Presley talked nonstop, dragging me around and showing me where she played, slept, and colored. She introduced me to Mattie, Smoke’s daughter. The young teen was quiet and bashfully waved at me before returning her gaze to my daughter.
While I was enjoying myself, I was struggling and fading fast.
Raiven must have sensed it, because I saw her look at her watch, then brightly announce, “Okay, Presley, let’s have our snack and then it’s nap time.”
Presley stopped, crossed her arms, and glowered.
“I don’t wanna nap.”
Watching her, I had a sneaking suspicion that’s how I’d looked when Styx was telling me about my new routine. Chagrined, I stepped in to back up Raiven.
“Come on, pipsqueak. I’m hungry.” I wasn’t.
We took a seat at one of the tables, and I was thankful because I couldn’t have made it much further. Exhausted, I dropped to a chair. Presley climbed up into the chair next to me, and Raiven went into the kitchen.
She brought out a tray of snacks and drinks and doled them out to us. I glared at the shit she put in front of me.
“Eat up!” she cheerily announced as she sat and started to eat the grapes she had in front of her.
Sighing, I forced myself to eat. As each bite hit my stomach, I battled with the nausea that churned. I also took the fucking vitamins Styx had “prescribed.” He hadn’t really, I was just feeling snarky and shitty. He’d simply made the recommendations based on what he knew and his discussion with a doctor friend of his. It didn’t make it sit any better with me.
After having no choices or freedoms for the time I’d been captive, being told what to do pissed me off.
Once we were done, Raiven rounded us up and we headed back to the room we were in earlier. I’d recognized Presley’s princess toddler bed in the room when they’d brought me there after we arrived.
Lock and Load: A Demented Sons MC Texas Novel Page 15