Gunner (Devil's Tears MC Book 1)

by Daniela Jackson

  We saved a baby pigeon together.

  We faced a fox together.

  I carried her in my arms when she was a baby. Well, sort of. My dad helped me.

  “Maybe they want to be in their own company, you know, like a girls’ vacation or something.” I scratch my head.

  Axel nods. “Sive texted me they would be back in a month. Can you fucking believe it? A fucking month.” He lays his hand on my shoulder. “Gunner Senior must know something.”

  He means the good Gunner, my dad. I’m Gunner Junior, the bad Gunner.

  “Come to my place,” Axel says, “later this evening.”

  I salute him.

  Sol

  I open my eyes as the car slows down.

  Mom is driving. A ballad is playing on the radio, one of my favourite. It’s called ‘Whisper’.

  I glance to the side. Carrie is holding my hand and staring out the window. I close my eyes and feel relieved. My problems will stay far behind me. I’m free. I will be free for a month.

  We’re going to visit Daisy. My cousin is living in the compound owned by the Devil’s Tears MC.

  “Is it safe?” Carrie asks as though she can read my thoughts, but I have the impression that she doesn’t really care.

  She looks so lifeless. Grey like the world on an autumnal rainy morning.

  “Well,” I say and lace my fingers with hers. “The Shadow Wolves once were as dangerous as them. They will respect us.”

  I see my mom’s wicked smile in the rear-view mirror.

  They don’t respect women the way our club respects us, but Carrie doesn’t need to know about this. Mike will take care of us. They respect him enough to allow him to invite us over and host us for a month.

  My club comprises real badasses; my uncle, Zane, is President and my dad is Vice, but at the moment, we need to stay in hiding, scattered, forgotten. We will be back in business one day. We’ll regain our lifestyle. We’ll be altogether as a family.

  I just know that.

  Mom turns into a narrow asphalt road leading to the parking lot in front of a pub perched on a white cliff. She stops between a lorry and a silver fiat Panda, twists her chest and glances at me with tired eyes.

  “Fish and chips?” she signs.

  “Yes, I’m really hungry.”

  I look at Carrie. Coldness radiates from her like she’s a marble statute. I stroke her arm and my mom holds her hand. My eyes sweep over Carrie’s once beautiful red hair now thin and marked by greys.

  “Carrie, we’re going to eat something,” I say. “And then we’ll go straight to the airport.”

  She gives me a nod and sinks into her numbness. God, how I hate myself for doing this to her.

  I killed her son. My face must remind her of his death each time we see each other.

  I made her grandchild damaged for life even though the baby is still in my womb. Carrie loves all the children of the world. Her heart must be bleeding at the grim future awaiting my baby.

  We get out of the car and go to the pub. The interior has a rustic décor. Bunches of dried herbs and green bottles covered with dust decorate the ceiling. We settle ourselves into a wooden booth and a waitress comes to take our orders.

  As the food arrives on the table, I grab my fork and focus on eating. Carrie’s nibbling her meal, but surprisingly, I wolf down mine. I used to enjoy food before Shay’s death.

  Gunner is a very good cook, but my stomach feels now like it has dried out. This is the first time in the last three months I’m leaving my plate empty.

  Gunner. His name bangs in my head, making my cheeks heat up. Mom glances at me like she knows my dirty secrets. I didn’t tell her what had happened between Gunner and me. I just asked her to take me to Daisy. She agreed and she didn’t interrogate me. This is how she is, always supporting me how I need her.

  Dad? Well, he should receive a master’s degree in interrogation techniques. I’m not allowed to breathe without his permission. I’m not allowed to leave my own house without his permission.

  I remember how furious he was when I announced that I’d fallen in love with Shay. Poor Shay. My dad broke his nose and forced him to drink two bottles of vodka. Shay was throwing up for three days.

  Poor Shay. He died not knowing I was pregnant with him.

  We finish eating and leave the pub. I settle myself behind the steering wheel.

  I used to love riding my motorcycle, but now I avoid even looking at it. It reminds me of Shay’s accident too much.

  Five hours later, we are seated in the plane that will take us to the Devil’s Tears, to Daisy who is my cousin, my best friend, my confidant.

  We spend the night in the air then we rent a car and shoot forward to meet Mike. He’s waiting for us at a small petrol station in the middle of nowhere.

  Warmth washes over my heart at the sight of his unshaven face and massive frame—he is our werewolf with the blackest hair I’ve ever seen and the most amber eyes in the world. Every kid in our family called him a werewolf. My every female cousin, including me, were in love with him, but this was Daisy who snatched him up. What a mess. Mike is twenty-eight years older than Daisy. Zane, Daisy’s dad, wanted to kill him when she got pregnant with Mike. My God, my granddad, Dimitri, almost killed him. My granddad, Boulder, almost killed him.

  I get out of the car and dart to greet him.

  “Mike!” I exclaim with joy.

  “Jeez, a pregnant squeaker,” Mike growls and he winces as though he’s in an unbearable mental pain, as I fall into his enormous muscular arms.

  As I cling to him, another soft body finds refuge in his arms. This is Carrie. Then my mom joins us. But, Mike can manage—he’s big enough. Warm enough.

  “There are rules,” he says instead of greeting us. “Do you understand?”

  “I know,” I say as he kisses the top of my head and gently pushes me away.

  “You stay in the house all the time,” Mike says. “You leave the house only with me.”

  “You said they were decent people,” I say and flash him a smile.

  “They won’t be decent around such tempting female bodies,” Mike says. “I don’t want any fights or corpses.” He looks at me sternly. “I mean it.”

  Mom salutes him and he raises his finger in a threatening gesture then winks at her.

  “Follow me,” he says and jumps on his bike.

  He leads us to the compound hidden behind a high concrete wall with barbed wire on top and we enter the world of crude scarred bikers, club whores, guns, and nasty swear words. The air of danger envelops me. I’m a bitch here. A bitch who has to obey the rules. I don’t belong in here, but this place wakes my yearning for the house in the Spanish Pyrenees where my family gathers once or twice a year in Zane’s house, where we are the Shadow Wolves MC again.

  My primal part absorbs the wildness of this place, resonates with the fierce vibes wafting through the air, craves the life my family once had and lost.

  Then I see Daisy with her daughter sitting on her hip. She’s standing on the veranda of a small wooden house. She looks like she belongs in here and that thought makes me feel stunned for a split second. Her grey eyes blaze as toughness radiates from her. She’s not my sweet cousin any more. She’s an old lady. A biker is standing beside her, and he looks twenty-three years old at most. His amber eyes burn with fury. I know this fury. This is the fury of a born killer. My dad’s eyes will sometimes flicker with such fury.

  The man reminds me of somebody, but it’s too blurry, too translucent to picture the name or face in my mind.

  I move closer to them and Daisy’s face lights up.

  “Sol,” she squeaks.

  “Daisy,” I squeak.

  The young man beside her sends me a smirk.

  Daisy throws her daughter at me and hugs us both.

  “Hello Amber,” I say and kiss the little one’s head.

  “This is Rebel,” Daisy says, pointing her finger to the man.

  “Who the fuck are you exac
tly?” I thrust my chin at Rebel.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Rebel responds and glares at me.

  “Rebel is my stepson,” Daisy says and bobs her head at me.

  “Holy shit,” I explode. “Is he…?”

  Now, I see the resemblance between Mike and Rebel whose name evokes a lot of memories. Dad has mentioned him a number of times, talking to my mom. Daisy mentioned him when we talked over the phone and when I saw her at Zane’s place. I guess the grey wall of misery around my mind has been really solid, but it’s crumbling.

  Mike and his son share the deep colour of the iris though Rebel’s hair has a bit lighter shade, ashy brown like soil.

  Mike moves closer to Rebel and pats his shoulder. “There will be a lot of squeaking.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “Enjoy the greatest family of squeakers in the world.”

  “Fucking hell,” Rebel says. “We need to get drunk, Dad.”

  I widen my eyes at how natural it is for Rebel to say ‘dad’. Well, Daisy must have done a really good job here. The last time I saw her, she told me Rebel had desired to put a bullet into Mike’s skull.

  Chapter 4

  Gunner

  I settle myself into the chair and open a can of beer as my dad drops into the brown leather couch beside Nikko. Axel and Hawk are leaning against the dining table. The smell of the garage is still lingering in my nostrils.

  The hum of the fish tank mingles with the sound of our breaths then Axel clutches the backrest of the chair. The air thickens.

  I’ve always liked visiting Uncle Axel’s place.

  Our families are occupying the houses in two opposite corners of the village. This is a village of nice old people. They’re completely unaware that born criminals are living among them.

  Dad has his grocery shop and Axel has his garage. They’re running their businesses for fun rather than for income. We have money. A lot of money deposited in our bank accounts. That money had been laundered for years to serve its purpose before we all had to vanish, so we don’t behave like spoiled brats. We’re careful. We’re lurking in the shadows. We’re waiting for the chance to rise again.

  Like I said, I’ve always liked Axel’s house. Today, I’ll probably change my mind about it.

  “Like some fucking funeral meal,” Axel says, breaking the silence.

  My dad guffaws and downs his beer with three gulps.

  “You’d better tell me what is going on, Gunner Senior,” Axel says.

  “They took Carrie,” Dad says and nods.

  “Is that all?” Axel growls.

  “My Carrie is not my prisoner,” Dad says. “She wanted to go, so she went.”

  Nikko lowers his head to hide his grin.

  “You.” Axel juts his chin towards Nikko. “You’re gonna take care of the papers.”

  “Aye, sir,” Nikko says and salutes Axel.

  “Hawk’s gonna deal with the customers,” Axel continues and looks at my dad who nods and salutes him. “You.” He thrusts his chin forward as his eyes bore through me.

  Fucking hell. He is a hitman again.

  He’s softened while being with Sive, but there is a killer inside of him. There will always be a killer inside of him.

  “Get your ass on your bike, Gunner Junior,” Axel says. “We’re going for a long ride.”

  He will smash my face. Maybe he will even break my arm. He knows. I know he knows. Not that it scares me, or something. It doesn’t. That’s something I should accept like a man. He’s Sol’s father, after all. If I have a daughter one day, I’ll be the same. I’ll smash every man do they dare look at her. Natural.

  I salute him and one corner of his mouth quirks up as the scars on his face waver.

  I shake hands with my dad, Nikko and Hawk and leave the house with Axel following me closely.

  “We’re going to check out Jax and Athena, first,” Axel says.

  So this is what it’s all about.

  His little wife has slipped out his dictatorship. His daughter has done the same.

  Axel is fifty-three. Sive is forty-two, but looks twenty. Even though her one iris is damaged, men devour her with their eyes. Axel is very possessive about her. He’s very possessive about Sol too.

  I don’t blame him though.

  I’d be deliriously happy if Sol agreed to be my wife. And I’d keep her only for myself. Maybe I’d even lock her up in my bedroom, naked and tied to my bed.

  We jump on our bikes and rev up the engines. With a deafening roar, we shoot forward.

  I like riding with Axel. He’s one of the best bikers I’ve ever challenged. It’s always about racing and winning when we are on our bikes together.

  I feel the familiar spike of adrenaline rushing through my veins as the wind smacks my face and I lean forward.

  Axel swerves around two lorries, and I lose sight of him. Fuck. I’m clumsy today.

  I catch up with him by the nearest motorway exit.

  Five hours later, we park our bikes on the lower deck of a ferry and climb the stairs to pour out onto the upper deck. Axel moves towards a green table with two benches. We take our seats and watch the grey sea waves clashing and producing foam. Ash clouds hang low above our heads like they’ll fall upon us at any moment.

  “You know, Gunner Junior,” Axel starts.

  It will be serious. Fucking hell. He will inform me that he’s going to knock my teeth out.

  “You know, Gunner Junior, you sometimes need to show your women that you care.”

  I exhale with relief.

  “I’m a fucking hard case,” Axel says. “But my little mermaid is a smart girl, you know. A really smart one. Sol on the other hand…” He scratches his head. “Sol is a bit like my grandmother was. She needs to learn to be brave again.” He looks at me as his jaw muscles twitch. “Shay was a fucking good kid. We all loved him.” His voice has a crack, and he clears his throat.

  My heart feels like an icicle has pierced it. “He was a good brother.”

  “He was like our club’s conscience. Zane once was like him.”

  I nod several times. We’re sitting in silence until the ferry reaches the shore. Then we jump on our bikes and ride for three hours, finally checking-in to a nice motel.

  As the sky turns dark grey and the sun dies on the horizon, we enter the bar across the road to have a few drinks before going to bed.

  The people sitting inside stare at us with suspicion as we settle ourselves on the bar stools and order beer. Then the women sitting at the table across the bar start shooting us curious glances. They look thirty. Very attractive thirty.

  Two of them rise to their feet and saunter towards us, their hips swaying gracefully. Their tits bounce with every step, pleading for attention.

  “You two look like you need company,” the blonde says and leans towards Axel, sinking her fingers into his hair. “Buy me a drink, you big scary biker.”

  The brunette throws her arm around my back. Her scent hits me with the hints of vanilla and jasmine and annoys me so much that I want to twist her neck. I’m not in the mood.

  Axel sends a beguiling smile to the blonde and whispers something into her ear. She beams and giggles, nuzzling her nose against his temple. Axel whispers something else to her. Her jaw drops and her face turns corpse-white.

  She backs up like hot water has scalded her, bouncing off a man. She spins and darts to the restroom.

  “You the same,” I say to the brunette whose wide eyes slide over Axel.

  The woman walks off.

  “What did you tell her, Uncle?” I ask.

  “None of your fucking business,” Axel says and tips his glass to his lips, taking a small sip. “It worked. It always works.” He downs his beer in three gulps and lays his hand on my shoulder. “You know, Gunner Junior, when you meet the right woman you don’t fuck it up. I fucked up once with Sive.”

  I know. Her one eye is blind because of his one unfortunate decision.

  “I will never fuck up again,” Axel says. He pats
my shoulder and nods several times. “Sol needs someone who knows how to handle her. Shay was way too soft with her.” He raises his glass of beer towards the bartender and she hurries to refill it. “Drink. We’re getting drunk tonight.”

  I feel my throat tighten and the memories of all Dimitri’s monologues on how to get drunk without losing control flash through my head. My grandpa Dimitri is Alekseev Bratva. He taught me a few useful tricks. I’m going to use them now not to spill the beans about Sol and me.

  We get drunk. Sort of. Axel gets drunk. My alcohol ends up mostly on the floor. Around midnight, we tumble out of the bar and sleep on the scratchy carpet of our motel room. Late in the morning, we get up, have breakfast and aim for Greece.

  As we enter Jax’s house twelve hours later, Athena hugs me for fifteen minutes. She is not my relative by blood and her soft curves have always made my dick twitch in my pants, but not this time. She’s only an auntie to me today.

  Aphrodite hides behind Jax at the sight of me. I don’t know why she’s so scared of me. She’s always been.

  Her green eyes blink a few times and she sends me the ghost of a smile. She has Jax’s eyes, but Athena’s dark curly hair.

  “Where is Takis?” I ask.

  “On a school trip,” Athena says.

  Jax slaps me on the back, tossing back his long blond hair. “What’s going on? You two look like two pieces of shit.”

  Axel looks at Athena. “Where are they?”

  Athena’s face turns red. “I don’t know.”

  “Yeah really,” Axel says. “There is a hot line between your house and mine. You know everything. Talk to me.”

  Jax chuckles and runs his fingers through his hair then smirks at Athena. “You said you were going on a vacation, right, baby?”

  “Is this like some fucking gathering of witches?” Axel mutters.

  “Yes,” Athena says and inhales deeply. She cups the side of my face with her hand. “Are you hungry, sweetie?”

  Right. I’m still a kid to her. If she only knew, I wanted to drive my cock into her mouth and gag her when I was sixteen.

  Jax drops his head and laughs. Aphrodite laughs, but one warning glance from me makes her retreat towards the kitchen.

  “I’d like to eat your moussaka, Auntie,” I say. “If it’s not a problem for you to cook it for me. I’ll help.”