“You always were a smart fucker,” Woolfe said admiringly, and Gunny shook his head.
“Not smart enough,” he said, catching the manager’s eye and jerking his head towards the door into the kitchen. “But I know when I’ve gotten all I’m gonna get. No good deed goes unpunished, right?” He watched the man gather up his employees and usher them into the back. “My woman.” Woolfe stared at him, understanding dawning on his face. Gunny sighed. “You put your hands on Sharon. My Rose of Sharon. I’m a man of my word, Woolfe. Told you what I’d do, you went right on ahead, did that shit anyway.” He shook his head, lifting his hand from his lap, carrying the weight he had been holding there, revealing his intent here at the last. Leveling it calmly, he said, “That shit simply cannot stand.”
***
Walking out of the diner, he was unscrewing the small metal tube from the end of his gun when he passed the prospects headed inside. With a hand on Hurley’s arm, he quietly said, “Manager cooperated, so there ain’t nothing to clean up but the trash.” He waited for the nod of understanding before he turned loose and let him walk inside. Continuing across the street, he lifted a hand to Deke and Hoss, scanning the rest of the brothers who had shown by their actions that they had his back. Memories surfaced of the first night he met the club, seated with Winger and Bingo, watching as without being asked men left to assist one of their members, because they had his back. Full fucking circle.
He nodded, moving to his bike. No surprise, Deke had parked next to him and was waiting there. “You good, brother?” He heard the question and lifted his gaze to meet Deke’s.
With a startled snort, he said, “Fuck no, I’m not good. That was Kincade’s friend. A jarhead I served beside for more than one deployment. The man fucking betrayed all of that when he went into my house. I ain’t good with that.”
“Not what I meant, brother, and you know it.” He was taken aback by the scolding tone in Deke’s voice and he frowned.
“I found out what I needed, and more than I wanted. I see the next stone in the path, Deke. We just gotta get there.” Pulling out his phone, he held down a button and said, “Dial bean counter.” Deke barked a laugh as the phone rang, and Gunny flashed a grim look at him. “I’m not good, brother.” Myron answered the phone, and with Deke listening, he told him about the videos Woolfe had mentioned, eyes fixed on Deke’s face, watching as it fell into harsh lines when the full understanding of what he meant settled into place.
“Fuck.” The bleakly whispered word filled the air around them, even as Myron uttered much the same from his place in Chicago.
“Yeah,” he said shortly, swallowing hard to push past the pain of knowledge he never wanted. “Can you find them? Find the account and delete them?”
“Goddamn right, I can do that, brother. Anywhere they exist online, I’ll wipe them out. Does Sharon know about this?” Myron’s quiet confidence and resolve was contagious, settling Gunny, and he felt his shoulders lower as his muscles loosened.
“No,” he said. “I don’t think she knows anything about this. She knew he had a camera, and talked about live sessions, but not videos, so I’d like to think she doesn't know anything. I’m gonna want to keep it that way.”
“You got it, brother,” Myron reassured him. “I’m on it right now. Priority number one, man. I’ll let you know when everything is purged.”
“Obliged,” he said, and Deke gave a short laugh as he disconnected the call.
“You are a country motherfucker at heart, aren’t you?” Deke reached over, resting a hand on his shoulder. “We need to talk about Sharon, brother. Meet you back at the clubhouse?”
With a nod, he turned away, straddling his bike. He sat there for a moment, watching as one of the prospects pulled a van up to the door of the diner. Seeing Hurley drag a bag through the room and then pause to wait for the other man to come back in from outside. “Yeah, brother. I’ll meet you there.”
***
They had seated themselves at a table far from the bar, away from the pool tables, and hopefully free from any chance of interruption. Deke’s gaze never wavered from his face once Gunny started talking.
“I nearly killed Sharon in my sleep.” Deke took a breath, but he powered on, wanting to get it all out there. “I woke up and had her under me, about two seconds from putting my hands on her neck. Now, if I lay next to her, I can’t let myself sleep. I’m too afraid of what I might do, what I might wake up to if I lose myself in a dream. I went back to see the VA doc, wanted to see if this was fucking PTSD fucking with me yet a-fucking-gain. He agreed as how it probably was, and he got me hooked back up with a talking doc, and you know how much fucking fun that is for me.” Deke snorted and made a motion with his hand to continue. “They want me to take something to help me sleep, but I’m afraid to take it. I can’t take the risk, because what if it puts me too far under to control myself? What if I hurt her?”
Shaking his head, Deke asked, “Did you hurt her, or did you not?”
Absently, he shook his head, remembering the fear on her face that night, the sound of the dogs growling at him…at him. Because he was the greatest threat in the room, even with what had gone down before, he was the worst the house had ever seen, and even his pups knew it.
“Not, but it was a near thing. From the feeling in my gut, I could tell. From the fear on her face, I could tell she knew it, too.” He picked up his beer and took a drink. “You know the kind of reactions I’ve had to meds in the past. Some of them work, some of them don’t, and some of them fuck with me in ways unexpected and strange.”
“She’s worried about you.” With those four words, Deke had his full attention. “She came to talk to me, man. She’s worried, and afraid because she knows something is up. I don’t think she likes you putting this distance between you and her. In fact, I know she doesn’t, because she’s wondering what she did to turn you off like a switch.” Gunny remembered her words to her mother on that phone call, the words that made his heart beat faster with equal measures of fear and excitement. We never talked about kids.
“She’s pregnant,” he said quietly, and didn’t miss the lack of a smile on Deke’s face. “Yeah, in all this, she’s pregnant.” He scrubbed at his face. “Everything I could ever want is all wrapped up in those two fucking words, but what if I hurt her and she’s carrying my baby? What if I do something and it gets ended because of me? Why would she want a kid with me, the fucked up man who can’t stand to see his hands on his woman now, because all he sees is the possibility of bruises left behind? Of gray skin and slack muscles? I’m so fucked up, man…why would I want to wish this on anyone, much less the woman I love?”
“When’s your next appointment?” Deke asked quietly.
“This afternoon.” He looked at his phone. “In about two hours.”
“I’m going with you,” Deke said confidently, and Gunny laughed.
“My security blanket again, brother?” He asked the question lightheartedly, hoping to bring a smile to Deke’s face.
“Whatever you fucking need, brother.” The response was so steadfast and true he had no answer.
***
Repeating her words from a few days ago back to her with a broad grin, Deke jokingly asked her, “You wondering why I asked you here today?”
She laughed and nodded, noting with a twitch of her nose he had a glass of apple juice waiting for her. “I’ll play along, Deke. Why did you ask me here today?” They were seated side-by-side at the bar, a move she also didn’t miss, as it made a statement about something; she was just unsure of exactly what.
“Talked to Gunny,” he said without preamble, and she drew a quick breath. He continued, “He’s seeing his VA doc again. This is a good thing, little one. He reached out for help on his own, because you were right; he scared himself shitless that night. I talked to the doc with him, and what I found out is he’s not lost in himself like he would have been in the past. These kind of episodes would draw him into himself, but that isn’t happ
ening here. The doc said you anchor him. You keep him rooted in the now, so he doesn’t get as lost in the then. With everything that happened to you with Elkins, what happened to both of you when all that shit went down in your house, all the fucking shit we’ve got running rampant in the club…shit you don’t even know about, and, fucking trust me, it’s best that way. But, the doc said it’s no wonder all the stress had brought on the issues he’s seeing. But this round seems different; he’s anchored, little one, and he ain’t going anywhere. You need to give him time to sort through his shit, to find his way to the other end of it. You told me once if he tired of you, you would cut him loose, and this is me telling you that ain’t what’s going on here. He needs you. You…since the first time he laid eyes on you, he breathes easier when you’re in the room.”
She sat still for a moment, taking in all he had said. Gunny was seeing a doc who said she was good for him. Out of everything, that was what she latched onto. That was her knot. “He needs me.” Deke nodded in agreement at her brief statement. “I need him, too.” Forcing down a sob, she licked her lips, pressing them into a thin line for a moment. Once she felt she could speak without breaking down, she told Deke, Gunny’s best friend, reassuring him as best she could, “I’m not going anywhere. He’s worth anything I have to do, any battle I have to fight to keep him. I love him.”
He nodded, reaching out to stroke her hair behind her ear, tugging lightly on her earlobe as he said, “Everyone sees it, Sharon. That love shines from your face every time you look at the big bastard. You keep my number handy, little one. Call me if you or Gunny need anything; my offer will always stand.”
They had chatted for a few more minutes before she left. It seemed Deke was looking for something else from her, something he needed in order to be comfortable with letting her leave, so she gave him smiles and conversation, gently reassuring him she wouldn’t be abandoning his friend—she wasn’t going anywhere. Now, she was sitting in the car Gunny had given her to use when he couldn’t be around to haul her butt on his bike. Chin down, she rested the top of her head against the steering wheel, thinking about the conversation she had on the phone with Vanna just now.
“If you love him, then you’re making the right decision,” her friend had told her. “Life with him might not be easy, but if you love him, then you’re right, and it’s worth the struggle. Love is always worth it, sweetie.”
Nausea swelled in her throat, filling her mouth with bitter saliva, and she swallowed with difficulty. Not limited to the mornings as advertised, the sick feeling accompanying her pregnancy could come on her without warning at any time of the day. Hand resting low on her belly, she closed her eyes, thinking about the urgency of the sound filling the doctor’s office earlier that morning. The rapid, echoing thup-thup-thup confirming what she already knew had drawn tears to her eyes, and her hand clenched into a fist now, still longing for Gunny’s holding hers. That solo visit had torn her heart in two, deeply afraid it was the first of many, but now she had hope it wasn’t her future after all. She was reaching for the keys in the ignition when a soft rapping came from the window beside her head, and she looked up to see DeeDee smiling down at her.
Returning the smile, she flipped the keys on and rolled down the window. Reaching in, DeeDee cupped her face and looked at her intently, the smile having faded from her lips. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?”
She lifted her hand, covering DeeDee’s with her own, holding that warmth and tenderness to her skin as she responded honestly, “No, but it will be. I’m headed home. I need to go talk to Gunny.”
“You’re okay to drive?” The caution in her tone wasn’t lost on Sharon, and with a shudder, she remembered how DeeDee’s husband and daughter had been killed, the inattentive new driver swerving into them, killing all three.
“I am,” she said emphatically, and nodded. “I’ll call you later, okay? I want to have lunch or something.”
She didn’t miss the surprise that crossed DeeDee’s face, but it was rapidly followed by a pleased excitement, and the smile she got from DeeDee was so broad and filled with joy she wondered why she had ever doubted this woman liked her. “I’ll be waiting. If you don’t call me, then I’ll call you. Promise.” With a quick pat on her cheek, DeeDee moved away, walking to where Jase waited for her at the door to the clubhouse. Sharon lifted a hand in a careful wave and got a typical
over-the-top Jase response, as his waving of both hands looked more like jumping jacks than a goodbye.
With a grin, she started the car and drove home, not even noticing that for once, she hadn’t called it Gunny’s home.
20 - Feels like flying
“Gunny?” She called his name from the garage like a question and he walked towards the door with a grin. She had barely gotten home, and had probably seen the new scoot and wondered what he was up to this time. Eve To Adam was playing over the speakers, Taki Sassaris singing about focusing on the only thing that mattered, which for him was Sharon, and he paused for a moment, thinking the words were perfect for this moment, his woman, because they were each other’s safe refuge, and he would follow her anywhere. Shut Out the World could be their song, he noted, the corners of his lips curling up at the thought of dancing with her to this music while people who cared about them both looked on, witness to one of the most important moments in his life.
I sleep, but my heart waketh: it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying Open to me.
“Yeah, babe?” It had been nearly a week, and she still hadn’t spoken to him about her fears, or anything else. He and Deke had gone to his appointment together, and thanks to his pushy friend, he had gotten some of the answers to questions he couldn’t even articulate. It had been one of the most productive conversations he had in a long time.
All Gunny wanted to know was if the doc felt he was a danger to Sharon or the baby, and the man had rushed to reassure him that clinically, he was long past the acute stage of his PTSD, and practically, he already knew this about himself. The doc reassured him he had been managing his behaviors for a long time now. And even though various things could still trigger a reaction or an episode, he had known for the past couple years that things were evening out, and his actions supported the change, his reflection in the mirror showing a near-normal person for the first time in more than a decade. He still had a lot of work to do, a fuckton of it, but with Sharon as the reward waiting him at the finish line, he would suffer any amount of effort to get there. My Rose of Sharon.
With that powerful knowledge tucked into his pocket, over the past week, he set out to quietly make changes, wanting to ease her fears and bring them back to where they were before. He hadn’t allowed another single night to pass without her beside him in bed, and each eventless waking brought him closer to assurance that he could get them through this. His nightmares hadn’t left completely, but now the fear they evoked was muffled, muted by the medicine, and even the pups were sleeping through the night again.
He made it to the door of the garage, ducking his head through the doorframe to see her staring at the bike sitting to one side, sidecar unmounted and placed on top of the workbench. “Yeah, babe?” he repeated and grinned as she swung her gaze to him.
“What is this?” She flung a hand at the offending bike, and he smiled more broadly.
“Sidecar,” he said and went back to the kitchen, moving to the counter and putting the song on repeat, then picked up the knife he had laid down when she first called him. Cutting vegetables into strips, he was sorting them into piles, dropping them into the baggies and sealable bowls he set out for this purpose.
“Gunny?” She asked this from near the door, leaning a hip against the cabinet and watching him with curiosity.
“Yeah, babe?” he deliberately repeated his words, knowing it would eventually make her crazy.
“What are you doing with a sidecar? And, what are you doing in the kitchen? Are those…is that celery?” He wondered for a moment if he should be offended at her
tone of astonishment, but then he decided to simply go with it.
“Yeah, vegetables. Making some snacks. Sidecar is a project, a relatively new one. You know how much I like projects.” He kept cutting and sorting, seeing the tip of her tongue dart out and wet her lips. “You hungry, babe?”
He had noticed she was losing weight, and now he understood why, realized she must have been hiding the morning sickness that had stripped her skin of its luster, and packed the bags he had seen under her eyes. His psych had put him in touch with an obstetrician, and he kept that appointment too, finding out ways to make food that would be easier on her system. They now had a pantry full of crackers, vegetable and chicken broth, applesauce, and electrolyte drinks.
“Maybe a little,” she ventured, and he tossed her a bag of freshly cut apple slices. She caught them and turned the bag in her hand as she asked, “Who’s the sidecar for?”
“Me,” he said, turning back to his cutting board, grinning down at his hands when he heard a crunch followed by a breathy little hum of appreciation.
“What do you need a sidecar for, baby?” She still had apple in her mouth when she spoke and he looked up, watching as she examined one of the slices with what looked like surprise. “These are good, Gunny.”
“I figure I’ve got a little while to get the sidecar finished,” he said, keeping his eyes on her. When she flicked her gaze up to meet his, he stared into her face, willing her to ask him how long.
“A little while?” She licked the side of the next apple slice and he grinned, because it was something Kincade had always done, claiming if he licked something, then it was his. It was good to think of his friend with something more than sorrow. Sharon had given him that, along with so much more.
Gunny (Rebel Wayfarers MC Book 5) Page 28