Gunner (Devil's Tears MC Book 1)

by Daniela Jackson

  “It needs airing,” Coyote says, switching on the light.

  “And a good dusting.”

  We put our bags on the floor in the hall, roll our sleeves up and tidy up the house. Coyote brings some food from the local grocery shop. We cook, eat and go to the burial ground around the medieval chapel. The bench under the crown of the old oak offers us a view over the entire village. The old mill works by the bottom of the hill as the visitors move across it like ants.

  I sigh and a sense of loss surges through me. Hale and Coyote’s parents died in a car crash two years ago. They were cremated and buried in the town fifteen minutes’ drive from here, but Coyote and I visit this graveyard to reminisce about them.

  “They’d want me to help Hale,” Coyote says.

  “You heard what that psychologist we saw six months ago said. We have to leave him on his own otherwise, he won’t wake up.”

  We’ve tried a lot of things, threats, pouring out alcohol into the sink, leaflets, swearing, silence.

  Coyote’s jaw muscles twitch. “Leaving like leaving the band?”

  “I don’t know. I like singing, but I’m tired with all the shit that comes along with fame.”

  “I don’t know.” Coyote puts his elbows on his thighs. “The money is good.”

  “Yeah, the money is good, but the life coming along with this money isn’t. I like small pubs with a small audience.”

  “Me too.” His eyes wander off to somewhere in the distance. “We could buy a small pub and we could be business partners.”

  “We could.”

  Coyote kills a mosquito feeding on his forearm and stretches his legs out, crossing his ankles.

  “I was thinking, Coyote.”

  “When were you thinking? Like now?”

  “Earlier in the house. I was thinking, you know, that there was some fucking higher purpose for Eavan to appear in my life.”

  “Fucking hell,” Coyote says and looks at me with concern. “You okay?”

  “Listen to me and don’t interrupt me.” I inhale deeply and huff out. “I want something different in life. I thought I would sing with the band for a year or two more years max then buy that small pub of my dreams or something.” Coyote’s face sharpens and he gives me his full attention as I continue, “I don’t want more shit in life from now on. No sex, no weed, no alcohol.”

  “No beer?” Fear flickers in Coyote’s glance.

  “Beer will be fine I guess. My point is that Eavan made me think. I will probably never see her again, but I want someone like her. Maybe if I’m well-behaved, someone like her will appear in my life.” Maybe some higher being will even bring Eavan back to me if I’m well-behaved. “If I throw the bad stuff out of my life, there will be room for the good stuff.”

  “Well said,” Coyote says.

  “I want to grow old with somebody nice, you know. Like Tony and Nicole.”

  “Me too.”

  “You won’t find somebody nice if are standing in the shit reaching up to your neck. The odour will scare away every nice person.”

  “So from now on no shit?” Coyote says and nods several times.

  “No shit. Beer?”

  “Yes. ‘Monopoly’?”

  “Beer and ‘Monopoly’.”

  We rise from the bench and walk towards the house. Coyote enters it first and goes straight to the kitchen as I visit the bathroom. We settle ourselves in the living room on the floor, four cans of beer on the coffee table, the Monopoly spread between us.

  “The loser is going to clean the pool,” I say.

  “You always lose.”

  “I fucking never lose. You always lose.”

  “The loser will also give a half of his monthly earnings to a charity that supports cancer research.”

  “As always,” I say.

  “Maybe we should be greedier. Did you think about it?”

  “Maybe.”

  “If we were greedier, we would be happier with the shit in our life.”

  “I think I prefer to be poorer and unhappy.”

  Eavan

  The car lamps floodlight the trees we pass. The rain taps against the roof as the windshield wipers emit a hypnotising sound. This sound brings memories to my head.

  My mother’s hysterical voice. “They are our daughters.”

  My father’s harsh voice. “I had no other choice.”

  “You coward.”

  “You fucking stupid cow. What do you want me to do? Hang myself?”

  The squeal of the brakes. Ruby’s cry. My mother’s cry. Silence then heavy breaths.

  My fear and helplessness.

  My desire to die.

  I move in my seat and correct the blanket around Ruby. She’s fast asleep, her breath steady. I glide my palm over her cheek and she shudders in her dream.

  “How much longer?” I ask.

  “About an hour,” Jack says from the driver’s seat and corrects the rear-view mirror.

  The lights of the cars passing us in the opposite direction blind me. Jack changes gear and the engine roars as the car outruns the truck.

  We’ve been driving for six hours and have stopped twice to pee and eat.

  “You will like it there,” Jack says.

  “I have no other choice but like it there.”

  “I’m trying my best.” There is a hint of anger in his voice.

  “I know,” I say gently.

  He is tired so I fall silent, not to evoke any argument between us. The pause is filled with Ruby’s snoring then I listen to the sound of the raindrops tapping a monotonous song that makes me feel suffused with a sense of loss.

  “You haven’t been very talkative today,” Jack says.

  “Maybe I have nothing important to say.”

  Jack inhales sharply. “I told you not to socialise, not to make any connections.”

  “Yes, you told me.”

  “So, listen to me.”

  “I always listen to you.”

  Jack growls as I turn my face and stare at the objects we pass, a pub, a high wall of an estate, a church. Historic houses made of stone, a supermarket. We turn into a narrow road, guarded by two walls of vegetation. A fog surrounds us like it’s alive, magical.

  My thoughts travel to Seafra. He must have waited for me at the Randell’s in the morning. I couldn’t call him even though I wanted to.

  Sadness strips me of energy. It must be like this. It had to be cut in the very beginning before I felt something.

  My fingers travel to my mouth and I glide them over my lips. I yearn for Seafra’s kiss, crave his voice whispering into my ear and his skilled fingers on my body. He knows how to touch a woman. Of course, he knows. Women crowd in his life, throw themselves at him.

  I would have been one of them; I would have been forgotten after just one sex.

  This realisation doesn’t evoke my negative emotions though. I can’t afford to be even a one night stand for anybody.

  Seafra wanted to eat breakfast with me. Me? He’s a rock star. Not the most famous one, but still a star. They don’t eat breakfasts with some unimportant people like me. Warmth washes over my heart. I think he can be really nice and normal, but I guess I will never know. Jack is taking us to another hole where Ruby and I are going to rot in solitude.

  “Are you hungry?” Jack asks.

  “No.”

  “I need to stop anyway to piss. I can buy you a sandwich at a petrol station.”

  “Sure. I’ll have a sandwich. Buy one for Ruby as well.”

  Ruby straightens and yawns. “Where are we?”

  “Only ten miles left to reach our destination,” Jack says.

  “I need the toilet,” Ruby says and covers me with the blanket.

  Five minutes later, Jack turns into a petrol station and stops to fuel the car as I help Ruby attach her prosthetic legs. Jack helps her get out and offers her his elbow as they walk to pay and use the toilet.

  I take my phone out of my bag and choose Seafra’s number from my con
tacts. My hand trembles. I can’t. I fucking can’t.

  I throw the phone back into the bag and lean back.

  Prison would be more bearable. In fact, I’m living in prison even though there are no walls around me.

  Chapter 5

  Eavan

  It’s been four months since we moved out of that small town I loved so much. I’m working in a flower shop now. This is my third day actually. The old woman who’s the owner is teaching me to create arrangements of flowers like wreaths and bouquets with patience. I think I’m more of an entertainment to her than her employee.

  “Go to the beach, child,” Anna says and her wrinkled face lights up. Wisdom and calm radiate from her pale grey eyes as her tiny hands covered with brown spots tremble against the white counter. She touches a pile of red roses at her right elbow and grabs scissors. “Off you go.”

  The scent of roses, orchids, and lilies hangs heavy around me as the whole palette of bright colours pleases my eyes.

  I shake my head. “But—“

  “The day is beautiful. Go for a walk. Come back in an hour.” She moves closer to me and shoves me towards the exit.

  I nod at her and walk out of the shop. She’s the boss here, after all.

  The bright sunshine blinds my eyes as I saunter, with my arms crossed over my chest. A row of white historical buildings guards the path leading to the beach I can see across the roundabout.

  This village is beautiful. We’re living in a small cottage with a thatched roof and two bedrooms. The garden around the house is quite devastated, but Ruby is eager to take care of it. She loves gardening and I hate it. There are too many opportunities to face really nasty creepy crawlies while working in the garden. Even tiny spiders make me scream. Ruby loves having her hands covered in soil and doesn’t pay attention to all the disgusting life hidden among the plants and below the grass.

  I focus on my breath. In and out. It feels safe here. I want to feel safe. But I can’t. The cold exhale of invisible menace haunts me day and night. Smile. Relax. Live. This is for Ruby.

  I have to be strong for her.

  I don’t think about Seafra. I can’t afford to think about him.

  I’m keeping the memory of him buried at the bottom of my heart, trapped in a dark cell.

  As I move closer to the beach, the murmur of the sea waves fills me with calm. The walk will do me good. I always sleep better after a walk along the beach.

  I cross the road then move along the pavement and walk down the concrete stairs. The grey pebbles scrunch under my feet as my eyes roam over the surroundings. Houses sit on the cliffs like daisies in the grass. The white clouds overhead float lazily as a seagull interrupts the eternal whisper of the sea reflecting the sun’s rays.

  I sit on the pebbles, pulling my knees to my chest whilst the sun’s rays are burning the nape of my neck. It’s peaceful. Safe. Time doesn’t exist.

  Ten minutes. I will be myself for ten minutes.

  I inhale deeply and happiness washes over me. My being merges with the surroundings, tastes the very particles of the smell coming from the sea, and resonates with the song of the waves. It’s lulling me, making me float in a sweet weightlessness, making me open my mind. Memories enter my head.

  My mother’s joyful voice. “It’s beautiful.” And her hand showing the beach stretching like a white majestic ribbon against the deep blue colour of the sea.

  Ruby’s bright smile. “Can we stay here forever, mummy? We don’t have to go back to the house. Daddy doesn’t like us.”

  “Don’t be silly, honey. Your daddy loves you.” My mother strokes Ruby’s head then hugs her.

  I finish my sand castle. “Daddy hates us.”

  “Don’t you dare say that ever again,” my mother hisses as her eye twitches.

  Somebody’s form throws a shadow onto mine, an abrupt disconnection from my reverie, and I jerk my head back, eyes glancing up.

  A man wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses shoves his hands into the pockets of his hoody and smiles at me.

  I turn my face away and stare at the sea, but the figure behind me doesn’t move. Putting my hands on the pebbles for support, I lift myself, but two hands push at my shoulders and immobilise me in a sitting position. I turn my face and find myself in that man’s embrace, his chest against my back, his legs guarding either side of my body.

  “Hey,” I growl and jerk my hands up, but the man wraps his arms around me, squeezing the oxygen out of my lungs.

  “Be quiet,” he says.

  I feel dizzy at the familiar huskiness of his voice.

  “Seafra,” I whisper and slump into his embrace.

  “What a fucking coincidence, huh?” he rasps into my ear, his anger tangible, seeping into me. “Let me guess. You hated me so much that you decided to escape from me to this hole. So... Are you living here?”

  “No.”

  “So what are you doing here?” He tightens the embrace around me, and I feel tiny and helpless against his power. Breathless.

  “What are you doing here?” I gasp.

  “I have a concert in the local pub.”

  “I have to go.”

  “No,” he growls. “You’re not going anywhere. Do you understand? Not until you explain what the fuck I did wrong last time.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong, Seafra.”

  He growls from his throat and plants a wet kiss on my cheek. Heat rushes through my veins.

  “Why didn’t you come, Eavan? Didn’t call?”

  “I couldn’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

  “No.” He holds my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping my face up to his and our lips meet like I’ve never left him. Like those four months that passed have never happened.

  I’m out of breath, weak, dying, rising to life back again. Excited and scared.

  “I can’t,” I whisper into his mouth, tears trickling down from my eyes.

  “Why? Tell me why?” His arms loosen the grip around me, but I still feel the hardness of his muscles against my body, his readiness to entrap me again at the slightest suspicion that I can wiggle out.

  “I can’t.” I catch a rapid breath.

  “Come on. Let’s have lunch together.”

  “No, please let me go.”

  “Lunch, Eavan, that’s all I’m asking for. Please, just this fucking lunch.”

  “I’m working.”

  He chuckles. “Really? Now?”

  “It’s a bit complicated. The owner of the flower shop—“

  “Yeah, yeah, I talked to her ten minutes ago. She’s giving you a day off. A very nice, helpful lady. She loves romantic stories, you know. And ours could be very romantic if you put more effort.”

  “What?” I turn to face him as his palms land on my cheeks. “What did you tell her? What did she tell you?” Panic strangles my throat, my heart pounding in my chest.

  Seafra removes his sunglasses and smirks at me. Pain courses through my heart at the sight of the exhaustion painted in a greyish tinge on his face.

  “Just imagine,” he starts. “I go for a walk to calm myself before the evening’s concert and see my girlfriend-to-be walking out of the flower shop. I want to rip her throat out, you know, but decide to act like a civilised individual would. I decide to be smart. I go inside the shop and talk to the old lady there then I go to the beach to catch my girlfriend-to-be and haul her to the nearest cafe so she can have lunch with me.” He nods several times. “Lunch, Eavan. Just this one fucking lunch.”

  “Okay,” I say and scramble to my feet.

  Seafra stands up and grabs my hand. His fingers entangle mine and squeeze them to the point of pain, but I don’t mine. I want to feel him and absorb him with my whole being.

  “Where are you staying?” I ask.

  “In a nice B&B,” he says with a slight tremble in his voice as we leave the beach and move along the pavement, passing the glass facade of the hotel and the playground. “I can be a normal being here. It’s
a tiny village in the middle of nowhere and the people here don’t pay attention to us. Not to mention that we give concerts here as the ‘Broken Souls’ not ‘Red Asylum’.”

  “Never heard of the ‘Broken Souls’.”

  “You see. I can be anonymous here. I can catch a breath here. I’m not a fan of being famous, you know. I like to be anonymous. I like walking with my girlfriend and holding her hand, you know. Anonymously.”

  “Your girlfriend?”

  He brings my hand up to his lips and plants a kiss on my knuckles. “My girlfriend from now on.”

  “What if I don’t—“

  “Let’s have this lunch first, okay. Let’s talk, Eavan.”

  I want to talk to him, touch him, and give him more time. But I can’t.

  “So you have a nice cosy room with a window overlooking the beach?” I ask frivolously as a decision sprouts inside me, growing into absolute clarity.

  I’m shaky with emotions, drunk with happiness to see him again. Scared as hell.

  “Exactly.” He roams his eyes over my face like he wants to memorise every detail. “A small room with the walls sprinkled with damp, a single bed and a horrible bathroom.”

  “Are you very hungry? It’s only ten in the morning.”

  “No, not really. You?”

  “No, not really.”

  “So maybe we could go for a walk or something? Talk like normal people. Get to know each other better.” He squeezes my hand, causing me pain, as though he’s afraid that I could vanish.

  I don’t want him to feel like this.

  I want to give him joy, peace and certainty. My whole time.

  But I fucking can’t.

  “I want you to show me your horrible room,” I say in a dry voice.

  Seafra stops and gazes at me as though he’s completely stunned.

  I am for sure. I’m stunned by my own boldness, decisiveness and the absolute clarity of my needs.

  I want him. Here and now.

  “So are you going to show me your room or not?” I flash him a half smile.

  Darkness fills his eyes, violent like a bad storm tearing through an old forest. His hand squeezes mine and I hiss at the pain from his grip.

  It doesn’t matter. The yearning in his eyes matters.

  I raise my other hand and run my trembling fingers up and down his unshaven cheek. He rests his forehead against mine and we inhale one another, my hunger clashing with his, our bodies shivering, craving the slightest touch.