Grave Diggers MC: Solo

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Grave Diggers MC: Solo Page 9

by Lynne, Carol


  “More coffee?” Crane asked. He set a plastic bag filled with crushed ice on the table and gestured to Solo’s face.

  Solo realized he’d been staring at his phone. “Yeah. Thanks, man.” He put the ice to his split lip.

  “No problem. Any word?”

  Solo shook his head. “Still waiting.” He’d remembered the name of Blue’s mentor and had looked him up in the phone book. It hadn’t been an easy conversation, but a necessary one. He laid everything out for the older man, his name, his affiliation with the Grave Diggers and his love for Blue. After he’d finished, he asked Mr. Lee if he’d do him the favor of checking on Blue and asking Blue to call him. All he wanted was to hear Blue’s voice, to assure himself that Blue was okay.

  When the phone finally rang, Solo couldn’t pick it up fast enough. “Blue?”

  “Hey.”

  Blue’s voice sounded hoarse, but it was still music to Solo’s ears. “Are you okay?”

  “I will be. They’re letting me out tomorrow,” Blue said.

  “Yeah?” Solo’s heart soared. “Do you need a nurse? Because I know one who works for free.” God, if Blue let Solo in, he’d be the happiest man in the world.

  “I’d like that. There’s some stuff I need to talk to you about, but I don’t want to do it over the phone.” Blue cleared his throat. “There’s a spare key taped to the back of the shutter to the right of the front door. Would you mind picking up enough groceries to last us a few days?”

  “I don’t mind at all.” Solo couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He caught Crane staring at him and quickly schooled his expression. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “Were you worried about me?” Blue asked.

  Solo swallowed around the lump of emotion in his throat. “More than you’ll ever know.”

  Chapter Seven

  Solo stood back and scanned the bedroom. He’d arrived at Blue’s a few hours earlier, and had spent the time washing the sheets, remaking the bed, vacuuming, and putting away the groceries.

  With a grunt of disgust, Solo shook his head and picked up the vase of flowers. He’d bought the small bouquet of daisies and carnations at the grocery store, but had had trouble finding a vase in Blue’s kitchen. After almost twenty minutes of looking, he’d finally decided to use a drinking glass. The choice came with its own set of problems. The flowers were too long which meant he’d had to spend another ten minutes finding scissors to cut them down. Once they were the right length, he’d done his best to arrange the individual stems. Of course, that ended in the certain knowledge that he’d never have a career in floral design.

  Solo did his best to rearrange the flowers, wondering if he shouldn’t just throw them out before Blue got home and realized how bad he was at the whole romantic thing. His heart jumped when he heard the front door close. “Fuck.”

  “Solo?” Blue called.

  “Yeah. Coming.” With no time to get rid of the flowers, Solo set them back onto the table. He wiped his hands on his jeans as he made his way to the living room. A handsome older man had a hand on Blue’s arm as he helped him to the couch. Solo fought back a surge of jealousy. He had an idea of who the man was and knew there was nothing but respect and familial love between the pair, but he wanted to be the one to help Blue.

  “What happened to your face?” Blue asked, easing down.

  “Just working shit out with my brothers.” Solo shoved his hands in his back pockets, feeling useless. “Can I get you something?”

  “In a minute.” Blue gestured to the handsome man. “Mr. Lee, this is Solo, but I think you know him as Sam.”

  Solo shook the hand Mr. Lee offered. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

  Mr. Lee grinned. “Please, for the love of God, call me Martin.” He cast a narrow-eyed glance at Blue. “I’ve been trying to get Eric to call me Martin for years. Hopefully, you’ll be more amiable.”

  “He respects you,” Solo said, releasing Martin’s hand.

  “Yes, well…” Martin stopped to clear his throat. “My late wife and I were unable to have children.” He looked down at Blue with tears in his eyes. “Eric’s been like a son.”

  “And that’s why he can’t bring himself to call you Martin,” Solo explained. A small part of him felt jealous of the relationship the two men had formed. Switch cared what happened to Solo, but he knew the Prez didn’t think of him as a son. No one did.

  “Fair enough.” Martin held up a paper sack. “I’ll let the two of you talk while I get a glass of water so he can take his pills.”

  “Thanks,” Blue said as Martin left the room.

  Solo retrieved a blanket from the hall closet before moving to sit on the coffee table. He spread the blanket over Blue and tucked it around the handsome man. “Okay?”

  Biting his lip, Blue nodded. “I thought I was going to lose you the other day. When I looked through the window and saw that gun pointed at you…,” his voice trailed off. “God, I couldn’t think of anything but getting in there.”

  Blue reached for Solo’s hand. “I was so afraid I wouldn’t get the chance to tell you how much you mean to me. How much I love you.”

  Solo’s throat felt too thick. He swallowed several times as he lifted Blue’s hand to his lips for a kiss. “I love you, too, and when you busted down that door and I saw the gun swing toward you, I stopped breathing.”

  “Never thought I’d see the day,” Martin said, coming back into the room.

  Blue chuckled. “Stop it.” He pulled his hand out of Solo’s and rested it on his side.

  The action reminded Solo of Blue’s condition. “How bad is it?” he asked, nodding toward Blue’s injury.

  “Not bad. I’ll be a hundred percent before you know it.” Blue adjusted the blanket, and Solo wondered if he was being completely honest.

  Shit. Once the excitement of seeing Blue again started to wane, Solo realized how pale Blue’s normally bronzed skin was. He reached out and ran the pad of his thumb over the dark patches under Blue’s eyes. “I changed the sheets and made the bed, so it’s ready if you’d like to sleep.”

  “I’m fine for now.” Blue took the water from Martin. “Just give me the antibiotic. I’ll give it a while before I take another pain pill.”

  “You sure?” Martin asked. “You haven’t had one in over four hours.”

  “I need to talk to Solo with a clear head,” Blue replied.

  Martin grinned. “Is that your nice way of kicking me out?”

  Blue returned the grin. “Something like that. Do you mind?”

  “Naw, I’m tired of looking at you anyway.” Martin set two pill bottles on the table beside Solo and crumpled the paper pharmacy bag. “Give me a call tomorrow to let me know you survived the night.”

  “Will do,” Blue said. He stared up at the older man. “Thanks.”

  Martin gave a simple nod before extending his hand to Solo. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you. Take care of him. He might need it in the weeks to come.”

  Solo shook Martin’s hand while wondering what the hell was going to happen in the next few weeks. “I will. Thank you.”

  Solo walked Martin to the door, hoping he could get a clearer picture of what was going on. He stepped out onto the porch and gestured over his shoulder. “Something else I should know?”

  “Yeah, but he needs to be the one to tell you. I reckon that’s why he’s not taking the pain meds because I know for a fact he’s hurtin’. Said so on the way here.”

  “Okay.” Solo clapped Martin on the shoulder. “Do you think he’s making a mistake by being with me?” he couldn’t help but ask.

  Martin stared at the front of the cottage for several moments. “No. He has the house, but it won’t be a home until he has a family of his own inside.”

  It was more than Solo had expected from the man who had been like a father to Blue. “Just so you know, I spoke with the club, and because of what Blue did for me and Rowdy, they won’t go after him.”

  Martin scratched the bac
k of his neck. “To be honest, I hadn’t even thought of that, but it’s nice to know he’ll be safe.”

  “He’ll be safe,” Solo assured Martin. “Between me and my best friend Rowdy, Blue has two men that’ll die to keep him that way.”

  After one last handshake, Martin stepped off the porch. Solo watched the older man walk to his car, feeling like he’d just asked for Blue’s hand in marriage. He guessed in a way, he had. Walking back into the house, he immediately spotted the grimace on Blue’s face. “Let’s get you to bed. You can say your peace and then take your pill.”

  * * * *

  Eric was exhausted by the time he’d used the bathroom and had made his way to the bedroom. The first thing he spotted upon entering his room were the flowers sitting beside his alarm clock. No one in his life had given him flowers until the big mean biker had come into his world. He sat on the edge of the bed. “They’re beautiful.”

  Solo shrugged and knelt on the floor to help Blue remove his shoes and socks. “Saw ‘em at the store.”

  Eric smiled down at Solo. He knew there was more to the gift than just picking the flowers up for no other reason than they were there. He had a few vases under the kitchen sink, but he didn’t tell Solo. There was something so incredibly sweet and touching about the glass Solo had used. He began to unbutton his shirt, unable to keep his eyes off the daisies and carnations. Even the flower choice was perfect. Roses would have been too cliché. The mixture of simple but beautiful blossoms spoke of someone who wanted to impress, but didn’t want it to come off as trying too hard. “You’ll have to bring me my camera later. I’d like to take a couple of pictures.”

  Solo’s brow furrowed. “They’re not arranged nice enough for pictures,” he argued.

  “They’re perfect.” Eric stood and let Solo help him out of his jeans and shirt. “To be honest, they’re probably the nicest gift anyone’s ever given me.”

  Solo pulled back the bedding. “That’s a damn shame. Guess I’m gonna have to remedy that.”

  Eric eased into bed. He stared up at Solo. There was so much he wanted to say, but decided to get the biggest decision out into the open before Solo got naked and totally ruined his train of thought. “After I’m cleared by IA, I’m quitting the force.”

  Solo paused in the process of taking off his T-shirt. “What?”

  Eric nodded. “You’re more important to me than a job, and I’m hoping it’ll make it safer for us to be together.”

  Solo dropped his shirt to the floor before going to work on his jeans. “We had a church meeting a couple nights ago. You don’t have to worry. The club won’t come after either of us, so you don’t have to resign.”

  “Yeah, I do. I can’t fully do my job if I’m riding the fence with you and the club. I’d never be able to do anything that would get you or your brothers in trouble, so it’s best to just take my job out of the equation.”

  “Is this about the shooting? Did Rowdy and I fuck up something in the investigation?” Solo asked.

  “No. The bag I found in Harold’s bedroom was the same substance that made Andy sick. Harold and Stevie Boy were working together to put Easy out of business. You’re the one who told me about the phone, so now we have photographic evidence that ties Easy to his brother’s killing.” Eric stared at Blue. “I didn’t tell the police anything about Roach. From what I could tell, he wasn’t involved in the killing or the dusted weed, so there was no need.”

  “Thank you,” Solo said. “What about the kid that got sick? What’s his involvement?”

  “No idea, and since I’ve been ordered to stay away from him, I doubt anything will come of it. Just one more dangerous asshole loose in the world.”

  “Dangerous assholes usually end up dead eventually, especially the ones who think they can get away with anything.” Solo closed the curtains. “I hate the thought of you quitting your job.”

  “It’s okay because I have enough savings to last me until I can find something else. I know I want to concentrate on my photography, but I’m not sure how far I’ll go with that either. And, if I could somehow persuade you to move in with me, I’ll be able to cut down on my living expenses.” Eric held his breath, waiting for Solo’s reaction. It was early in their relationship to make such a bold move, but he didn’t need time to pass to know what he wanted.

  Solo didn’t say anything until he’d crawled under the covers with Eric. He laid his head on a pillow and stared up at the ceiling. “You serious about that?”

  “Absolutely.” Eric was unable to roll onto his side, so he watched Solo out of his peripheral vision. “I’d rather not use the spare bedroom for a motorcycle shop though, so we’ll have to figure something else out. Maybe build a shed or something in the backyard for you to use as a workshop. The spare bedroom I plan to convert to a darkroom.”

  Solo sighed before moving to lie on his side. He leaned over and gave Eric a deep kiss. “I don’t have to work on the bikes here. I can do that at the club for now, and we can figure the shed situation out later.” He ran his fingertips lightly over the bandage on Eric’s side. “Speaking of the club, if you’re not a cop anymore, you can go through the process of pledging if you’re interested?”

  “No, that’s not really my thing. I wouldn’t mind meeting some of your brothers, but unless it’s a requirement for us being together, I’d rather not.” Eric thought about Solo spending long hours at the club working on motorcycles and found the idea didn’t sit well. “I’d rather just call someone on Monday and get an estimate for the shed. I’d rather have you home with me in the evenings. That way, if I’m in need of your cock, I don’t have as far to go.”

  Solo smiled and reached under the covers to wrap his hand around Eric’s erection. “Are you asking me to move in so you can have easy access to my dick?”

  Eric wished he wasn’t in pain because he’d love to beg Solo to make love to him. “That may be one of the reasons, but I’ve decided you look damn good in my robe, and my robe belongs at my house, so I know it’s the only way I’m going to get you both at the same time all the time.”

  “Well, in that case, I accept.” Solo kissed Eric again, deeper than he had previously.

  Eric tried to wrap his arm around Solo and jerked at the pain the movement caused.

  “Shit.” Solo broke the kiss and released Eric’s deflated cock. “You need pain meds and sleep. There’ll be plenty of time for everything else.”

  “Promise?” Eric asked.

  “Swear on my Nova.”

  * * * *

  Eric turned off the engine and stared down at the folder in the passenger seat. Before turning in his badge, he’d used his resources to dig up what he could on Solo’s father. Unfortunately, the information might raise even more questions. He leaned his head against the back of the seat and stared up at the headliner. A knock on his window made him jump.

  Solo, shirtless and sexy as fuck, gave him a questioning look.

  Eric pulled his keys out of the ignition and grabbed the folder before opening the door. “Hey.”

  “How was your last day?” Solo pulled a shop rag out of his back pocket and began to clean his hands.

  “Fine. They didn’t have a party or anything, but the captain told me I’d be missed, so I guess that’s the next best thing.” Eric unlocked the trunk. “My entire career has been reduced to one file box.”

  “Ah hell.” Solo wrapped his arms around Eric from behind. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”

  “Yeah, it is. I’m different. Working the last few weeks while IA wrapped up their investigation was torture.” Eric wasn’t sure how to explain, but he owed it to Solo to try. He turned to face the man that had become his entire world. “I used to see the world as good and bad. There were no good guys who did bad stuff or bad guys who did good stuff.” He licked his lips, praying he wasn’t about to insult his biker. “Getting to know you changed all that. You’re a biker for Christ’s sake. You’re supposed to be the bad guy, but you’re not. Shit.
I’m not saying this right.”

  “You said it perfectly, and, yeah, I agree. Cops…” Solo shook his head. “I hated fucking cops before you.”

  Shit. Eric closed his eyes. It was the perfect opportunity to tell Solo what he knew about his father, but they were standing in the fucking driveway. However, if he put it off, he may never show Solo the folder. “I found out a few things about your dad,” he began.

  Solo took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest. “And?”

  “I found this.” Eric handed over the folder. “I think that’s the reason you hate cops.”

  It took a few moments, but Solo eventually opened the file and flipped through several pages, his attention finally landing on a series of copied photos.

  “He was a patrol officer.” Eric rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable laying out Solo’s family’s dirty laundry. “Evidently, he was having an affair with your mom. Your dad must have found out and confronted him.” He gestured to the picture. “He was discovered dead in an alley behind the apartment building where you lived at the time.”

  Solo shook his head. “Yeah, I know who the guy is. My mom used to send me to the drugstore to buy candy on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons in the summer. I may’ve been young, but I wasn’t stupid.” He closed the file. “My father didn’t do this.”

  Eric wanted to argue, wanted to tell his partner that the evidence said otherwise.

  “My dad grew up in the life. If he killed this cop, he wouldn’t have left him out for someone to find.” Solo handed the file back to Eric. “If he’d done it, no one would’ve seen that cop again.”

  Eric turned and stuffed the file in the box of shit from his desk. “Okay.”

  “No, it’s not okay.” Solo pressed against Eric’s back, once again. “I need you to believe me.”

  “I do,” Eric replied. “I’m just embarrassed I hadn’t thought of that. You’re right. Your dad would’ve done it differently. Unfortunately, I don’t think I can do anything about it now.”

 

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