Hunter (The Devil's Dragons Motorcycle Club)

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Hunter (The Devil's Dragons Motorcycle Club) Page 10

by Nikki Wild


  Without much choice, I followed him inside.

  “What was your name, son?”

  “Hunter,” I replied. “Hunter Hargreaves.”

  “Russell Parker,” he paused, sticking out his hand. “Pleased to meetcha.”

  “Likewise.” I shook it. His hand was old and brittle, even papery; instinctively, I lessened my grip as I took it in mine.

  “Your little lady is resting in our guest room,” he informed me courteously as I followed him down a hallway. “You didn’t make it in time for dinner, but we have some leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

  I perked up at the sound of that.

  “Starving, actually.”

  “Elaine’ll be pleased to hear that,” he noted. “My wife’s great in the kitchen, and she just loves to share her cooking with new friends.”

  “New friends,” I thought aloud. “Now, this Elaine of yours… remind me, was she the one who was whacking me with her purse?”

  The old man laughed.

  “Sorry about that… Elaine can be a bit nutty at times, but she’s my shining star.”

  The house had that classic ‘old people’ décor – lots of white, floral decorations, some antique stuff here and there. Faux wooden paneling cut off at about hip level, running along every wall that I laid eyes on, and above that was pale wallpaper.

  We came to the kitchen, where the wooden floors turned to checkerboard linoleum; the room was filled with stainless steel appliances, a generous amount of brown cupboards, and fake marble countertops on both sides. Sitting at the white painted table and chairs that dominated the corner nook, the great purse-whacker herself was filling out a crossword puzzle.

  “There he is!” She beamed up from behind her reading glasses. “My, you’re here earlier than I expected. Did you have any trouble getting that bike of yours sent over?”

  “Not at all, thanks. Someone passing by took some pity on me.”

  “Ah yes. The city’s a rough place, but there are some friendly folks out in these parts. It all just depends on where you look.”

  I nodded politely.

  “Well, are you hungry?” She slowly rose from her seat without a trace of her former vengeance. “I’ve got some leftover casserole wrapped up, if you need a bite to eat.”

  “I’m starving, Elaine, thank you.”

  “Help yourself, darling,” she pointed to the refrigerator. “We’ve got a couple of other things in there, if that’s not to your liking.”

  “I was raised to take what I was offered, and to appreciate it,” I politely responded. “I’m very grateful to both you and your husband for the generosity.”

  She smiled at Russell.

  “Now, see? He’s a gentleman.”

  I hid a small grin over those words as I dug in their fridge for this alleged casserole. I found it almost immediately – a third remained of a green bean casserole with fried onions on top.

  Oh yeah, this’ll do nicely.

  I pulled out the thick dish and rummaged in a few of their upper cupboards.

  “Next one over, to your left,” Elaine noted.

  I followed her directions, finding ceramic dinner dishes in a stack beneath matching bowls. A few minutes later, I had a hearty serving of her casserole freshly heated, and I pulled up a chair at the table.

  “How is it?” She asked, considerately waiting until I’d had a few bites.

  “Nothing beats a home-cooked meal,” I told her in gratitude, “and this is no exception to the rule. After the day I’ve had, I think I needed something cooked from the heart.”

  “Yes, Sarah told us a little about that,” she nodded calmly, her attention straying back to the crossword in her hands. Meanwhile, her husband kindly placed a coaster down in front of me, topping it with a fresh bottle of beer as I thanked him with a nod. “Not that I want to pry, but would you care to fill an old woman in on your take on things?”

  I nodded, swallowing my next bite. “Probably the least I can do, given the circumstances…”

  While she fiddled with her puzzle and Russell drank his own beer against the counter, I wove the tale of the weekend, carefully leaving out a few details… such as what I did for a living. As I spoke, the two of them listened – Elaine would occasionally pipe in with a question, but mostly hung back and took it all in.

  “I see,” she noted with pursed lips. “Well, he certainly does sound like an old fart, doesn’t he, darling?”

  “The oldest and fartiest, dear.”

  I chuckled into one of my last bites of food.

  “But my heavens, pulling a shotgun with a pregnant woman in the room? Especially his own daughter… what a piece of work.”

  “Worst part is, I felt like I was just getting to know him,” I conceded. “Had a few minutes alone with all these pictures in his hallway – pictures of his folks, his brother, even him. They showed me that something happened when he was a kid.”

  Russell walked over to take a seat next to his wife as she paused, thinking about that.

  “I can feel it in my bones,” I went on. “Whatever happened back then changed him for the worst… and it pushed him to raise Sarah the way that he did. To interfere with her life.”

  Elaine hadn’t touched her crossword in a few minutes, and she set the folded book and her lead pencil down.

  “Interfering seems a strong word. Whatever he was doing, it sounds like he probably did it with the best of intentions…”

  I leaned back, crossing my arms.

  “Maybe. That doesn’t excuse him, though. Not back then, and certainly not with that stunt that he pulled earlier today…”

  “No,” she agreed. “Of course not.”

  I glanced out the window. It faced into their front yard and onto their quaint little street. A heavy sigh left my chest.

  “What I said a moment ago was wrong.”

  “About what?” Elaine asked.

  “I said the worst part was that I felt like I was just starting to understand Jack. That’s true, but it wasn’t really the worst part.” I turned back to her. “The worst part is really that I feel like there really was a way for this thing to work out, somehow.”

  “Oh?” She lightly tilted her head. “What do you mean, Hunter?”

  I uncrossed my arms, resting my forearms on the table around the finished meal. “I just can’t shake the feeling that this could have worked, but we made the wrong choices. That maybe… Sarah could have gotten what she wanted after all.”

  Elaine studied me for a moment.

  “You know,” she spoke, clearly considering her words, “perhaps this is a sign. You don’t strike me as the Bible type, but God works in mysterious ways. You’re trapped in town for the next couple of days… maybe this is your opportunity to find a way to reach him.”

  “I’d like to think that,” I nodded. “But he made it very clear that I’m not welcome anywhere near him or that house.”

  “Nor his daughter, I’m sure.”

  “Nor his daughter,” I agreed. “Although that part was unspoken. Probably because he realized that what was done, was done.”

  Elaine considered that.

  “If… and this is a big ‘if’, but if he had a knee-jerk reaction out of shock… it’s possible that he already regrets driving her away. And if this man is willing to accept that, then maybe he’s willing to go through you to get to her.”

  “With a hole in my chest the size of a fist?”

  Russell chuckled. Elaine threw him a dirty look, and he silenced himself.

  “That’s not what I meant. When we talked to Sarah about all of this earlier, she was determined to not let him in her life again. If her father knows her well, he’s probably aware of this…”

  I could see her point, but I didn’t like it.

  “…And he might be willing to make amends with you if it means being a part of his daughter’s world, especially his grandson’s world.”

  “That’s a strong risk I’d be taking,” I reminded her. �
�I fully expect that if I dare even step foot on that property, I’m losing a foot.”

  Elaine frowned, and she reached forward to place her kind hand on mine.

  “If I tried to convince you to go back, and you were in any kind of real danger, I daresay your young woman would eat me alive. All I’m saying is that you have been given a choice here, Hunter. You can leave things as they are, have your bike fixed, and take her back home…

  “Or you can challenge him with a second chance, a real chance to be the stronger man.”

  I wasn’t convinced.

  But she made an interesting point.

  “You’re a gracious guest, Hunter, and I see a lot of pain in your eyes. If he can swallow his pride and really give you a shot, you might find you both have more in common than you realize. After all,” she chuckled, pulling her hand back, “it’s not like you don’t have the time. Unless it’s an easy fix, with these slow mechanics around here, you’re probably looking at that bike being in the shop a few days.”

  She stood up from her chair, and Russell followed suit. They took my plate and silverware from me and placed them in the sink.

  “It’s your choice, Hunter,” she told me. “Only you can know what’s best, and don’t think for a second that we’ll judge whatever you decide. Feel free to stay here and wait out the clock…”

  With that, the kind old couple left me alone at the table to wade through my complicated thoughts.

  Fifteen minutes later, I was at Sarah’s side. The woman I desperately wanted to marry was deep asleep with a tender smile on her face.

  Quietly, I watched her sleep for a lingering moment. While her breaths slowly rolled in and out, I took the time to memorize how unfailingly peaceful she looked.

  “Forgive me,” I whispered in her ear.

  I pressed a light kiss to her lips.

  “Hunter…”

  Pausing, I tilted my head. When she didn’t repeat my name or open her eyes, I realized that she was still asleep.

  My heart swelled with love for her.

  And it swelled for our child.

  I climbed to my knees next to her, hoping that this wasn’t the last time I’d see my bride to be. “I have to do this, baby… and I’m sorry.” I turned my mournful face to her baby bump, carefully placing a palm against her womb. “Connor, if I don’t come back from this… I love you, and I need you to take care of your mother for me.”

  Even through the comforter, I felt him kick.

  Attaboy, I grinned proudly.

  With nothing more I could say, I climbed to my feet, bending over the bed. I stroked a few strands of hair from her face before planting one last little kiss on her forehead.

  I thought back to all the trials and enemies I had faced in the last year, and how often Sarah had put herself in danger to try to help. I hated to admit it, but she’d usually been right. I’d done my best to keep her clear of it, but the damn woman had her father’s stubbornness…

  I shook my head with a sad, small smirk.

  At least THIS time, you’re safe.

  I quietly closed the door and wandered out to the living room. The couple that had so kindly taken us in was sitting together in their chairs, watching Wheel of Fortune.

  While I had my reservations, they came from experience in the kind of life I led.

  Sarah trusted these people from the start.

  And I trusted her judgment.

  “Elaine, Russell… I’m going to step out for a while,” I told them. “Can I count on you to keep Sarah safe, and to let someone come by in the morning to take my bike to the shop?”

  Russell nodded. “Sure thing, son.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  As I walked towards the front door, Elaine climbed up from her chair and followed after me. I unlatched and unlocked the door.

  “Be careful, Hunter.”

  “Trust me…” I turned to her with a sly smile. “I’ve faced down tougher, scarier men than him. I’ll probably be fine.”

  “You’ve got yourself a kind heart, Hunter. I can see it twinkling in your eyes...” She nodded sadly, a concerned smile on her face. “I hope that he sees it, too.”

  Elaine closed the door behind me.

  I felt the rush of adrenaline that hit my veins every time I knew I was about to walk into battle. Summoning every ounce of fearlessness in my body, I pulled out this slip of paper that Elaine had given me earlier, along with my phone. I punched in a few numbers and heard the line pick up.

  “Operator? Hi. Put me on the line with the nearest cab company…”

  Seventeen

  Hunter

  A brisk breeze gently shielded me from the heat of the sweltering Phoenix sun.

  The cab was already gone.

  It felt to me that the rest of my life was right ahead, waiting for me. It stood there, watching me, in the quiet form of a wooden door in a sunny suburban Phoenix neighborhood.

  It was time to face it down.

  Only a few steps of my boots on concrete separated me from the alcove, and I marched forward with my head held high. As I hovered at the door, taking in its small details, I could hear past the sheet of metal and wood. There were faint sounds of the television. What confused me was that, much further into the house, it sounded like there was some sort of a distant commotion.

  I took a deep breath.

  Then I knocked. Loudly.

  The only immediate change was that the far-off noises from inside stopped. The television still rattled off some action sequence, blocking me from hearing any details.

  It took me knocking again, harder this time, and waiting patiently for a few moments, before I finally heard the loud, gruff clicks of the door unlatching from the other side.

  With a heaving grunt, it pulled open to reveal the haggard, stunned face of Sarah’s father.

  He simply stared at me in disbelief.

  Alcohol wafted off of him. We had only been gone a couple of hours, and he already stank of the stuff. I could only imagine that he must have been hitting the bottle pretty goddamn hard…

  “Hun… Hunter?”

  “Jack,” I replied carefully. “I’ve come to–”

  With a sudden scowl, he tried to slam the front door in my face. I easily caught it with my palm and held it ajar.

  “Jack, this is your last fucking chance,” I insisted darkly. “I wouldn’t waste it if I were you.”

  “Chance for… for what?”

  “To get your daughter back.”

  He groaned, shielding his face from the sun. With a disgusted look, he bowed his head and hobbled away from the door, leaving it open.

  I hesitated for a moment.

  He’s drunk…

  He’s emotional…

  Is this a better idea than before, or WORSE?

  There was no turning back now, so I shook my head and closed the door on my way in.

  Jack left the television running as he walked across the house, back towards the kitchen. He was muttering to himself under his breath, his free hand moving erratically.

  Well aware that he was taking me back in the direction of that battered old shotgun, I tread carefully a few strides behind the old man. But as I followed him into the kitchen, I froze.

  The room was a fucking mess.

  Broken dishes and scattered food were strewn across the floor. Half the cupboards were open, their contents added to the mix. The fridge stood wide open, half empty with a broken glass shelf. A gallon of milk lay mostly empty on the ground, its contents making a soup of the debris.

  Hell, it looked like a goddamn tornado had rolled through here.

  My gaze lifted to the kitchen table, where I noticed an array of open liquor bottles and a few half-drunk beers. Some of them had been knocked over, spilling into the kitchen floor chaos.

  Good goddamn.

  “Jack…” I groaned, taking it all in. “What the fuck did you do in here?

  “Lost my temper a little,” he slurred.

  He had stoppe
d in front of the fridge, kicking away large shards of a plate with his shoes as he dug out another beer. The old bastard popped the top in his palm and handed it over to me.

  I looked at the bottle in disbelief.

  “Wha?” He muttered drunkenly. “Yer a man, right? A man drinks when’s offered a drink.”

  I took the bottle from him.

  “Jack, we need to talk…”

  He scoffed.

  “But we need to talk when you’ve sobered up. Look at yourself, man. You’re a fucking mess.”

  “Don’t you… don’t you say that to me–”

  He reached out to point at me, but his hand trembled on his cane. I dove forward and grabbed the old man around his chest as his arm gave out. I caught him just as he was falling into the broken glass and ceramic.

  “Let… let go of me!”

  Trust me, I wanted to.

  But I held his weight and tried to tug him to his feet. His cane clattered to the debris and I groaned with irritation.

  “Let… let me…”

  “Shut the fuck up and stand up,” I growled.

  Jack looked me in the eyes with fear.

  “You’re going… you’re going to hurt me too, aren’t you?”

  I was taken aback.

  “No, old man. Let me help you.”

  “You’re here… to help?”

  Jesus Christ, the bastard really IS drunk out of his goddamn mind…

  I couldn’t get him standing. The most I could fucking manage was to crook my elbows under his shoulders and slowly drag his heavy, drunken ass away from the danger.

  He groaned powerlessly as I moved him away from the debris. With the heels of his shoes scraping along the wood, I dragged Jack down the hall and back to the living room.

  Once there, I pulled his moaning body onto the couch and got him sitting upright.

  “Jesus, Jack. What the fuck, man?”

  “I just… Sarah…”

  I shook my head in disgust.

  “Is this how far you’ve fallen, Jack? Look how quickly you’ve made a goddamn embarrassment out of yourself…”

  He looked over at me hazily.

  There was no getting through to him in his current state of mind, so I grunted and went back to survey the damage properly.

 

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