Gunner (Devil's Tears MC Book 1)

by Daniela Jackson

  I raise myself, sit down beside Ruby and throw my arm around her back. “I will be for you in whatever way you need me.”

  “Can you marry my sister?” Ruby says. “I want to attend a wedding.”

  “Sure,” I say. “This won’t be a problem.”

  Eavan looks at me, stroking her belly and biting her lower lip. She nods at me, flashes me a mysterious smile then sinks into her own thoughts.

  “You two look very much alike,” Ruby says. “Almost like siblings, but I guess soul mates look like this.”

  We fall silent and I watch Eavan. She has a wig on, a platinum-blonde bob. It makes her look sexy as hell. Ruby looks like a teenage boy with her oversized tracksuit bottoms to cover her prosthetic legs and a baseball cap and I’m hiding behind sunglasses and a bandana.

  Eavan

  It’s been three days since we escaped Natalie’s supervision.

  We’re standing in front of a devastated barn, the smell of rotten straw and animal droppings all-pervasive, mixing with the smell of fish and seaweed carried by the gusts of the wind. The droplets of rain are pricking my face like needles.

  “There are holes in the roof,” Ruby says.

  “Well,” Seafra says, scratching his head as his feet sink into the mud around us.

  I’m actually very excited.

  It’s the middle of nowhere, the queen of all the holes we’ve lived in so far. Three old fishermen and their wives occupy the village nearby and there is a small devastated pub at the further end, run by a woman who looks two hundred years old.

  “Perfect,” I say.

  “You like it?” Seafra looks at me with relief.

  “Needs work, but we can do it,” I say.

  Ruby holds Seafra’s hand as her feet squelch in the mud. “We will live like cavemen.”

  “Well,” Seafra says.

  “It’s perfect,” I repeat.

  Seafra sinks his fingers into his drenched hair. “It’s worse than I thought it would be, but there is no going back now.”

  “No, there is no going back,” I say.

  Chapter 16

  Eavan

  Seafra grasps Ruby’s waist and lifts her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She squeals like a mouse then giggles, sheer unconstrained joy laced with excitement radiating from her.

  “Let’s go inside,” Seafra says.

  A transparent nervousness coats his voice and I can sense the effort he’s putting to hide it from me. He wants to be the man here and I have to let him be the man even though everything inside me screams to hug him and comfort him.

  We move towards the double door with iron details, and Seafra kicks it open. It creaks, sending chills down my spine. Seafra goes first and I’m right behind him. Ruby’s face waves in front of mine, her cheeks red, and her forehead wrinkled.

  The red bricked walls on the inside wear signs of abandonment, cracks, grey spots of mould, cobwebs. There is a metal fireplace in the middle of a room serving as the living area and opening into the kind of kitchen. Trash and cans are strewn all around the floor.

  “The previous owners started the conversion, but never finished it,” Seafra says. “They were a couple. The man hanged himself on the tree nearby and that’s why this place was so cheap.”

  “We’ll have a ghost haunting us,” Ruby says.

  “Maybe,” Seafra says.

  “Are you scared of that possibility?” I tease him.

  “No. You?” He winks at me.

  “A little.”

  My feet sink into a tiny puddle formed by the water filtering through the gap in the roof.

  Seafra plants Ruby on the stone floor and rummages around the room, looking for something. He kneels in front of an arched niche and opens a square metal door forming its back wall. The sound of scratching and clicking comes to my ears as he takes out a strongbox and opens it. I move closer to him and look down.

  “Wow,” I say as my eyes flick over two rolls of money inside of the box.

  “Ten thousand?” Seafra turns his face to me and grins. “My brother told me he’d left some money but I didn’t expect that much.”

  “We won’t die of hunger,” I say, “and we can renovate this barn.”

  “We need a kitchen, a bathroom and a room to sleep,” Ruby says with excitement. “I like it here.”

  A sound from outside of the barn diverts my attention, the hum of a car engine and the scrunching of tyres, as coldness rushes through my veins.

  “What the fuck?” Seafra raises himself in one motion. “It’s not Charlie.”

  The sound of a car door banging shut makes all the atoms of my body jump as a figure enters the barn.

  “I will kill you,” Natalie yells, her voice echoing threateningly.

  She moves closer to us and stops, her eyes shooting snaps of lightning.

  “How did you find us?” I mumble.

  “I’m a cop, remember?” Natalie’s eyes roam over us, two assessing blades, and she puts her hands on her hips, her face sharp with anger. “I’m a really good cop. Fuck. That’s really... really... You’re the troublemakers of the worst kind. I really want to send you to jail. All of you.” Her eyes bore through each of us. “I had that gut feeling so I decided to watch you. Imagine my surprise when a rock star parks his bike in front of your house and twelve hours later three masqueraders leave the house with bags hanging on their shoulders. I decided to follow that procession of masqueraders. So, here I am.”

  There is a gloomy silence, stillness, the dread of unpredictable pricking my skin.

  Natalie huffs out then looks at us with her face softening. “Nobody knows.”

  “I don’t understand,” I say.

  “Jack might have been right about the spy in the department,” Natalie says. “Nobody knows that you’re here, except me. I will help you.”

  “You will?” Seafra asks, his voice laced with suspicion.

  “I have two kids,” Natalie snaps. “You’re somebody else’s kids too. I’ll help you, but you will have to listen to me.”

  Ruby moves closer to Natalie and falls into her embrace. Consternation followed by sympathy paint Natalie’s face.

  “Thank you,” Ruby shrieks. “You’re really nice. Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome,” Natalie says, her voice trembling. “Now, where are we going to sleep tonight? In my car?”

  Seafra

  I like working with my hands.

  Calluses and scratches cover them, the reminders that I have a new life, that I’m happy not searching for happiness. An old fisherman is helping me with the roof and other repairs. He’s sixty-eight, but works like he’s thirty. Only his time-ravaged face betrays his age-his arms are as muscular as mine and his frame has a better stamina than mine. We sometimes sit on the white cliff and sip beer, watching small boats swaying on the surface of the sea, the wind smacking our faces. In those moments, Owen is telling me about his life, his wife, children, and grandchildren. He’s a crude man with simple principles and has never cheated on his wife. I really like him.

  Natalie visits the barn every two weeks to check on us. I think we can trust her. Our contacts were kind of stiff, formal in the beginning, but the more I know her the more I like her. She reminds me of Tania.

  Natalie acts kind of crazy when Eavan is in labour and Owen’s wife comes to help deliver the baby. Ruth has delivered a lot of babies; she’s an experienced midwife and we prefer not to go to hospital to avoid unnecessary exposure.

  My son lets out his first breath at 4.15 am and Natalie goes to do a massive shopping. We don’t interrupt her, and she brings five boxes of stuff for the baby.

  Our life becomes very unorganised though happy.

  Eavan and our baby are fine, but I’m concerned about Ruby. She needs something or someone to heal her. Coyote would be a perfect medicine for her, but he is as dead for us as we are for him.

  Owen gave me an old guitar. I have repaired it so I can sing for my girls and my baby every evening. Ruby
calms down in those moments. She’ll stroke Eavan’s arm and shake her hands with excitement.

  I think I died in a certain way, and it’s not only about that fake suicide. I’m different, resurrected; I have new goals and I love my new life. It’s not easy and I don’t mean the money or the condition of the barn.

  Eavan is sometimes difficult. She was on her own for the majority of her life and learnt to trust only Ruby and herself. And then that cop, Jack. Her emotions are blocked because the life she had demanded that she developed such an ability. She doesn’t communicate properly.

  I talk to her a lot about everything, the weather, her favourite colours, her beloved castles, the baby and Ruby, taking off layer after layer to reach the true Eavan. It’s getting better. I know she’s ticklish on the sides of her chest and just below her ass. She loves chocolate ice cream. She‘s scared of ghosts, but loves watching ghost movies. Tiny things, day after day.

  Tonight, there is a small celebration in our house. We have finished the roof and two bedrooms are also ready to move into them.

  Natalie is sitting with us around the oak kitchen table, and waiting to be praised for her present. She bought a state-of-the-art washing machine for us.

  “Thank you very much,” I say. “You’re wonderful.”

  A bright smile parts her lips.

  She’s a divorcee. Her husband cheated on her and left her with two teenage kids. She doesn’t like talking about him, but I know he was a piece of scum. I compliment her each time she visits us and she drinks my words like a desert drinks rain.

  “You need a larger fridge,” Natalie says.

  Eavan opens her mouth to protest, but I kick her foot under the table.

  “Yeah, we need a larger fridge,” I say and Ruby winks at me.

  Natalie sighs. “Leave it with me.”

  “Thank you, sweetheart,” I say. “You’re irreplaceable.”

  Natalie moves on her chair, a pink blush on her cheeks then a genuine smile parts her lips. “I was thinking about buying some wallpaper and decorating one wall in the living area.”

  Eavan gulps and Ruby drops her head to hide her smile.

  “Yeah, that’s good idea,” I say.

  Natalie reaches for a napkin and wipes her mouth. “Thank you, kids, but I have to go now. I’ll be here next week. Behave.”

  Eavan

  Seafra rocks our son in his arms, swaying around the bedroom as I watch him from the bed, my feet tucked under my bottom. The crow on his back wavers as he bends and lays the baby into the cot.

  “Hungry?” he mouths to me.

  “Yes,” I mouth back, crawling out of the bed and correcting the strap of my satin nightdress.

  Seafra wants me to wear indecent lacy underwear and satin nightdresses barely covering my body so I wear them for him. I like them more and more with each day that passes. I love the hunger in Seafra’s eyes when I’m lying on the bed with a garter belt and a bra on.

  I love the feeling of having power over him when I’m sucking his cock off. He said I could deep throat him. I never sucked a cock until I met Seafra so whatever that means I’m eager to give it to him because he is at my mercy when I have his shaft in my mouth. He’ll moan and tell me how much he loves me, how mad he’s about me.

  Seafra holds my hand and pulls me behind towards the kitchen. It’s 1 am. The rain taps against the roof and a snap of lightning crosses the night sky I can see through the window. Ruby is asleep or she’s pretending to be asleep.

  I switch on the light and open the fridge. “Eggs and mayo?”

  “My woman?”

  I turn to face him and drown into the hunger burning in his eyes, running the back of my hand up and down his naked chest. His skin has a brown tinge from the sun, giving him the appearance of a real man working with hands. I bend my neck forward and plant kisses on his pecs.

  “You want to eat me?” I kiss his cheek.

  “Always.”

  I manage a sigh as his lips land on mine and he sets me on the table, wrapping my thighs around his waist.

  “Ruby,” I gasp.

  “Just be quiet. She’s asleep.”

  He slips his hand under my panties and pushes a finger into my pussy, making my insides heat up and melt. His breath brushes against my cheek, scorching, sending a tingle across my skin.

  “Say you love me,” he demands.

  “You know I love you.”

  “Say it properly.”

  “I love you, Connor.” I know he needs to hear it regularly. It compensates him for my lack of social skills. “I love you.” I slide my hand under his pyjama pants and close my fingers around his hard cock. “Love your cock.”

  “I know.” His hot mouth touches my neck, teeth scratching my skin.

  My other hand massages his muscular buttock and I pull him to me. He tugs my panties aside and drives his cock into me, filling me in one thrust. The bliss from his intrusion forces a loud moan from my mouth.

  “Be quiet,” he says and covers my mouth with his, enclosing me with his arms.

  He pulls me up and carries me in his embrace, slamming me on the wall next to the fridge, his cock pulsing inside me. My mind is hazy with desire.

  His lips kiss my whimpers and steal my breath as he fucks me hard and fast, my body rocking against the wall. I rise towards my peak, everything dense and bubbly inside me and around me. Hot and sweaty. My whole being explodes in satisfaction as Seafra growls his pleasure into my ear.

  “I love you, Eavan. You’re my life.”

  I know that. He is my life too.

  I pull away from him, correcting my panties, his cum trickling down my inner thigh. “I’m really hungry.”

  Seafra opens the fridge and takes out strawberries as I wipe my thigh with a piece of kitchen towel.

  We sit at the kitchen table and he pulls me onto his lap. I stroke his unshaven cheek with my hand.

  “I love you,” I shriek. “I’d die for you, Ruby and our son.”

  I would. I never expected that love could be so strong, so violent. So passionate and brave.

  “Live, Eavan. Live this life we have and be happy. That’s enough.”

  Chapter 17

  Coyote

  I stand with my fingers entangled on the back of my neck and watch her. Ruby is sitting in an antique rocking chair and humming a lullaby with her eyes fixed on the baby wrapped in a blue blanket on her lap. This chick can’t sing for shit, but my heart fills with a sense of painful beauty at the sound of her voice. She looks exactly like I remember her, funny freckles on her white cheeks, full seductive lips, big eyes. Auburn hair bringing dirty fantasies to my mind. I’d wind her hair around my fist and mark her throat with my teeth. I’d fuck her hard. She’d be on her stomach and I’d be on top of her.

  Ruby raises her grey eyes to me, and the chair stops moving.

  “How did you find us?” she asks, looking aloof.

  “A polite hello would be nice.”

  “I asked you a question.”

  A seagull screams above my head and I raise my eyes. Its wings flap, and the bird lands three steps away from me. It cocks its head up and stares at me impertinently. I wave my hand, but it ignores me.

  “We feed her sometimes,” Ruby says.

  “Her?”

  “She’s kind of domesticated.”

  “Okay,” I say with hesitation.

  A balmy breeze kisses my forehead as the sun’s rays burn the nape of my neck. The smell of the sea brings tranquillity to my heart. Brings yearning for something I can’t name.

  I climb the stairs and sit on my heels in front of Ruby on the wooden floor of the veranda, putting my bag beside me.

  “So, I asked you a question,” Ruby insists. “How did you find us?”

  “It took me a while. Many hangovers and a few joints before Charlie spilled the bean. Hello, Ruby. Nice to see you again.”

  “Hello, Coyote. Nice to see you again.”

  “A boy or a girl.” I point my finger to the baby.


  “A boy.”

  “Seafra’s?”

  Ruby nods at me. “Yes, our little Eric.” She flashes me a translucent smile. “Why are you here?”

  “Why? I couldn’t believe it that my cousin might have taken his life, you know. It’s not his style. He’s a tough guy. He wouldn’t do such a thing, you know. That’s why I’m here.”

  “You have to leave and forget about us.”

  “Well, I’ve travelled for many hours and I’m hungry.”

  “Sure, I can feed you at least.”

  Ruby raises herself, taking her walking stick with one hand and pulling the baby to her chest with her other arm, as I follow her inside of the house. It’s more of a barn and needs a lot of work, but the living area we’re crossing looks decent. The stone and raw wood used to decorate it give the interior a unique crudeness, gentled by the wavy outlines of a sofa with two matching armchairs.

  Ruby lays the baby into a cot standing in an open plan kitchen and takes two bowls out of the fridge as I wash my hands under the tap of the kitchen sink.

  “So,” I say. “How is life?”

  “Not bad. My sister and your cousin are working in the small pub at the opposite end of the village. Seafra is sometimes singing there to earn the money for the repairs in our house.”

  I drop into an antique chair at the kitchen table. “What about you?”

  She puts a plate on the table and piles it with salad. “Why are you interested?” Her eyes blink, long eyelashes flapping seductively as she settles herself next me. Her elbows are propped on the table, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

  I take her wrist and plant a kiss on the back of her hand. Sadness darkens her glance at my gesture.

  “I’m interested because,” I say in a hoarse voice and suddenly I can’t find the right words. Fuck. I’ve practiced this conversation at least twenty times. I know I have to be straightforward, precise like a bullet. It’s the kind of situation when one does extraordinary things, says the naked truth, changes their life forever. “Well, I was thinking, you know. A lot. I was thinking about you.” My jaw muscles twitch as her eyebrows arch. I raise my hand and run my knuckles up and down her cheek. “I’m interested because I’m in love with you. Enough reasons?” I grab her wrist and pull her onto my lap gently.