Rook's Control

by Rook's Control [Evernight] (mobi)

  “Drop the damn gun.”

  Rook set it on the floor.

  “Kick it over to me.”

  Rook gritted his teeth, but did as he was told. He looked at Bobbie. She was crying, her eyes wide as she looked at him, and her face bloody and swollen. Rage filled him. “You piece of shit motherfucker.” Rook took a step toward him, his voice low, dangerous, deadly. When the guy cocked the gun Rook stopped.

  “You forget who’s in charge here, Thayer.”

  Rook gritted his teeth. “I don’t go by that name anymore.”

  The asshole chuckled. “You’ll go by whatever I call you.” They stared at each other for a moment, and then the man tilted his head to the side. “You don’t recognize me, do you?”

  Rook clenched his hands at his sides, gritted his teeth and forced himself to shut the fuck up for fear this psycho would hurt Bobbie even worse.

  “Just put the gun off of her, and you and I can deal with this ourselves.”

  The guy shook his head. “You really don’t remember me?”

  “No,” Rook ground that lone word out.

  “You took something from me that I can never get back.”

  Rook wracked his brain for where to place this bastard, but he’d gotten into so much shit when he was younger, and had been drunk and high most of the time, that he couldn’t remember half of what he’d done.

  “Let me give you a clue—Roberta.”

  Roberta.

  Rook played that name in his head, tried to place it, and it was only when he kept looking at the guy holding the gun to Bobbie’s head that it finally clicked.

  “Jimmy Lane.”

  The fucker grinned.

  But even so Rook didn’t know what would have made this asshole so pissed that he’d resort to this, and guarantee that’d he’d get gutted alive.

  “I thought you weren’t one of those asshole guys that backstabbed, but you proved me wrong.”

  Shit.

  Rook knew what this was about.

  “Not only did you fuck my wife behind my back, probably more than once, but you knew how she felt for you.”

  “Jimmy, you and Roberta had been separated. She was drunk, hell, we both were drunk and high, and you had talked about leaving her.”

  “You don’t get to explain anything. You fucked up, Thayer. It’s because of you that she’s dead.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? I didn’t fucking hurt Roberta.”

  “You may not have given her the booze, but you pushed her over the edge.”

  Rook didn’t know what the hell was going on, but this was getting insane. “Jimmy, what in the hell are you talking about? I admit to screwing up and sleeping with Roberta. That was a mistake, one I can’t take back, but you’ve gone to these extremes, and this many years later, because of that? I didn’t fucking rape her, and like I said, you weren’t the best husband anyway. If memory serves me right weren’t you screwing that eighteen year old?”

  “Not the damn point. Roberta and I were working shit out, or at least I thought. We were still married, and I was trying to get her back. She’s the one that wanted a divorce.”

  “Then what the fuck is the problem?”

  “She wanted you from the beginning, and you knew that.”

  Rook shook his head. This asshole was doing this over jealousy?

  “She came to me after you guys had been together, telling me she wanted you, that she loved you.”

  That was fucking news to Rook. He’d slept with the bitch one time, and it had been one time too many. She was crazy in the sense she didn’t like being told no, and would follow a guy to make that point known.

  “I told her you didn’t want shit with her, that you were all about the pussy.”

  Rook couldn’t deny that. Like he said, he’d done a lot of shit back in the day, and that had been using women like they were nothing to him … and back then they hadn’t.

  And out of all the messed up things he’d done, this was what had come back to bite him in the ass.

  “She wouldn’t have it, wouldn’t listen.”

  Rook scrubbed a hand over his face, now remembering that night clearly. It had been buried deep down, the alcohol and drugs he’d done masking it, making it just a blur. But that night came up clearly in his head.

  “Thayer, I love you, have always loved you,” Roberta said, the alcohol and coke in her system making her pupils dilated as fuck.

  “I’m not into that relationship bullshit, Roberta. You wanted my dick, and I gave it to you. That was it.”

  She stared at him with her emotions clear on her face, but he just wanted to continue to get wasted. As it was he could barely hold his head up, and this conversation was bringing his high down.

  “You want a man to take care of you, to give a shit about you, go back with Jimmy.”

  “I don’t want Jimmy. I want you.”

  Rook looked right at her, trying to be as sober in this moment as he could, because he wanted the bitch to know exactly what he meant. “I don’t want you, Roberta. What we had was half an hour of dirty sex, and that’s all I was after. Like I said, you want someone to take care of you, love you, go back with Jimmy. He’d take your ass.”

  The guys that were seated around him started chuckling, and Rook tossed back more liquor. He swallowed it, the alcohol already numbing his throat. He started laughing. Roberta stayed there for moment, but he ignored her, not about to put any more time into this. Hell, she was older than he was anyway, separated from her husband, and he shouldn’t have fucked her in the first place. But as far as he knew she and Jimmy were done, and he’d wanted a piece of ass.

  “That bitch is crazy if she thought you’d want her old ass.”

  Roberta had obviously overheard because she stopped and looked over her shoulder at him.

  Rook remembered that night all too well. He’d had seen the pain on her face, but he’d been too fucked up, too involved in himself to give a shit.

  “Yeah, you fucking remember,” Jimmy said, and shoved the gun harder into Bobbie’s temple.

  “Just relax, man, relax.”

  “Don’t you fucking tell me to relax. I spent the last decade and a half waiting for this moment. What you don’t know is that after she left she called me up, told me she wanted nothing to do with me, and did an eight ball of coke. Then she got into an accident and died, and it’s because of you.” Jimmy’s hand was shaking, and Rook knew this situation needed to get under control right fucking now.

  “We can work this out, just you and me.”

  Jimmy shook his head. “I went after the guy that was in the other car, the one that crashed into Roberta’s. I killed that fucker with my bare hands, and spent fifteen years locked up because of it.”

  Rook was trying to stay calm, trying to act like he had all of this under control, but inside he felt like he was being torn apart.

  “Whatever happened in the past can be fixed, Jimmy. We’re men now, not twenty-something year old assholes that didn’t care about the world.”

  Jimmy shook his head, this incredulous sound leaving him. “People don’t change, no matter how many years have passed.”

  Jimmy was right to an extent, but Rook was a different man. He might do even more questionable things, but he wasn’t the same punk he’d been back in the day. Rook had a family now. The MC was everything to him, and as he looked at his woman, hating that he’d put her in this situation, he knew he’d do right by her.

  “I’m not that fucker from back in the day. I’m sorry about Roberta. Maybe I contributed to what happened to her, and for that I’m sorry, but doing this with my woman, coming here after all these years—” Rook shook his head, his rage increasing inside of him. “It’s not fucking good, man.” Rook clenched his hands into fists at his sides, gritted his teeth, and would have tackled the bastard right now and ripped his trachea out if he didn’t have that gun to Bobbie’s head. As it was he had to play this safe, smart.

  He was done reasonin
g with Jimmy, done giving a shit about what happened fifteen years ago. “If you want to get out of this in one piece, you’ll take that fucking gun away from my woman’s head, and you and I can deal with this like men.” Rook had no intentions of letting him get out of this in one piece. No. Fucking. Way. Jimmy had signed his death warrant the moment he even looked at Bobbie.

  “I don’t care about myself. My sole purpose was making you pay for what you did. After you left I did my time, only thought about this moment, and nothing is going to take this away from me.”

  It was like the next sequence of events happened in slow motion. Jimmy turned his head and looked down at Bobbie. Her eyes widened as she stared at Rook, and the blood and sweat that covered her face landed on her white shirt, staining it in the violence that was happening.

  Rook acted instantly, done with talking, with trying to make this asshole see reason.

  He lunged at Jimmy, but at the same time he saw Bobbie jerk toward Jimmy, her head slamming into the side of his arm. Rook heard the gun going off, saw the flash of light as if everything had stood still, and instantly felt the heat of that shot being fired as if the gun was pressed to his head.

  He tackled Jimmy to the ground, and time rushed to the present, speeding up, blurring. He wanted to make sure Bobbie was okay, so he allowed himself just a millisecond to look at her. She was still breathing, and for that he was thankful. But the more he looked at her, the more he felt dread rise up.

  God. Fucking hell.

  She was on her side, the force of the gunshot having her topple to the side. Her hands and feet were still bound, blood and rope burn visible on the limbs. But it was the pool of redness that was starting to surround her that had everything in him rising up like a beast set free. He roared out, not able to help himself, and started throwing punches at Jimmy’s head.

  The gun had clattered to the floor beside them, and although Jimmy was a decent sized man, he was no match for Rook, not when what fueled him was his anger and the need to protect his woman at all costs.

  He was over Jimmy, his fists having a mind of their own as he slammed them into the side of his head over and over again. But the strangest fucking thing was the fact Jimmy wasn’t fighting him back, wasn’t trying to defend himself. No, the bastard was smiling through it all.

  “Do it, put me out of my damn misery,” Jimmy wheezed out, his teeth stained red from his blood, the side of his face becoming swollen and bruised.

  Rook couldn’t see straight, couldn’t think clearly. All he knew was right now he had to kill the man that had hurt Bobbie.

  “I wanted you to feel what it was like to lose the woman you loved,” Jimmy said and started laughing, and Rook wrapped his hand around his throat tightly. “And it looks like I got what I wanted.”

  Rook squeezed his fingers so tight around Jimmy’s throat that the other man’s face turned a nasty shade of purple. He gurgled, his fingers on Rook’s hands, trying to pull them apart. Even if the asshole wanted to die, his body went into survival mode.

  Rook took his other hand and pulled Jimmy’s fingers away. He slammed his knuckles into Jimmy’s face, blood spraying out of the man’s nose and mouth. He started choking on the fluid, and before he passed out Rook removed his hands from Jimmy’s neck.

  He got off of him, but he wasn’t done.

  “You fucked with me, with my woman, and now you’ll pay for it.” Rook reached for the gun just a few feet away, made sure it was cocked and ready, and pointed it at Jimmy’s head. “If you’d come to me and spoken to me like a man, we could have worked this out. But you fucked with what’s mine.”

  Jimmy started gurgling again, a grotesque mixture of spit, blood, and his own fluids.

  “Fuck. You—”

  Rook pulled the trigger before Jimmy even got the last letter out. The shot echoed throughout the small room, and Rook didn’t waste any time going to Bobbie. He didn’t want to move her for fear of making things worse, but he couldn’t let her stay on the floor. When he picked her up as gently as he could, her blood coated his hands and arms. He grabbed his cell, and with her blood causing his fingers to become slick, the horror of his woman’s life fading and bright as the viscous fluid that covered his digits, Rook called the club.

  “Man, we’ve been trying to get a hold of you. We found Liam—”

  “Bobbie needs an ambulance. She’s been shot,” Rook wheezed the words out.

  “Stay calm,” Tank said in a steady voice. “We’re on our way, and we’ll bring the doctor and Molly with us.”

  “Fucking hurry. Bobbie’s hurt badly.” He disconnected the call as Tank was still talking, shoved his phone in his pocket, and rose with Bobbie in his arms. He wanted to call the ambulance, but doing that would bring the cops, and they’d see the body. They’d take him away from Bobbie, and he couldn’t let that happen. “Stay with me, baby girl,” he whispered to her.

  He hauled ass out of the building, and couldn’t help but notice how ashen her face was, how lifeless she looked.

  “Please, baby,” he said in a frantic voice. “Please, don’t leave me, not when things are going real good with us.” He kissed the top of her head, and continued moving through the building, praying to God that the club would be here before it was too late.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Bobbie heard sounds first, low, muffled, distorted. She tried to open her eyes, but it was useless, like heavy weights sat upon them. The sounds faded in and out, and the darkness threatened to claim her, but she didn’t want to go back there, didn’t want to be suffocated by it. It was lonely, cold, and the nothingness frightened her.

  She wanted to move her arms and legs, but nothing happened. Was she paralyzed, tied down? Was she just not strong enough? She was getting more frightened, but that darkness, the heaviness surrounding her, crushing her, wouldn’t ease, wouldn’t give her a moment of peace.

  The talking started again, a little clearer, a little more focused. She strained to hear, tried desperately to understand what was being said.

  Why couldn’t she hear them more clearly? Why couldn’t she shout out that she was here, that she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak?

  As she started to get more panicked, that darkness rose up, clung onto her, and pulled her back down until it was just her and the nothingness.

  ****

  Three days later

  Rook was dying inside, and the longer Bobbie stayed out, the more he worried that the bullet had really fucked her over. The club had gotten to the Grove at the same time the doctor had arrived. He’d worked on stabilizing her right there. The back of the SUV the club had come in had been equipped with what he needed. They’d been there for so long he feared the worst, thought he’d lose her, and was ready to destroy something.

  Bobbie had been out for three days. Seventy-two fucking hours, and it was killing Rook.

  He held onto her hand and leaned back on the chair. He’d been here with her day and night, only leaving her long enough to take showers, use the bathroom, and grab something to eat. There were tubes coming from an IV bag to her arm, and the physician said he’d be giving her fluids and medication to help with any potential infection, and with swelling. Hell, Rook didn’t know jack shit about medical situations, not anything more than having to tend to his or his crew’s wounds. When it went a little too deeply they called in the doc to take care of the rest.

  He stared at the bandage on the side of her neck, where the wound from the bullet had torn through her throat. The doc had staid the bullet barely missed her jugular, and it was still a miracle she was alive. He leaned forward again, his body strung tight, his entire being exhausted. Fuck, he hadn’t slept more than an hour here and there since she’d gotten hurt, and as tired as he was, he couldn’t sleep because his nightmares about her leaving him were too intense, too real.

  “You want to take a break, maybe get some fresh air, Rook?”

  He shook his head at Molly’s question. Malice’s former old lady had been with Stinger, one
of the Patches from The Grizzly MC, but she’d always stayed loyal to the Brothers. She was a good woman, always helping them at the drop of a hat, and never turning her back on them even if she was with a Grizzly.

  “I’m not leaving her side anymore until she wakes up. Leaving her for showers was too fucking long.”

  “Rook,” Molly said his name softly, and moved closer before placing a hand on his shoulder. “When she does wake up you want to have a clear head, don’t you?”

  He closed his eyes, knowing she was trying to be helpful, but he was set in what he planned. “I’m not fucking leaving her.”

  “Okay,” she said quietly. “I’ll bring you something to eat and drink.”

  He nodded, and heard her leave before shutting the door behind her. They were in a room in the back, one that was set up like a makeshift hospital room. It was necessary for when any of them got hurt. After Lucien got shot they’d organized something a little more advanced. Their physician had brought in all the bells and whistles, but never in a million years did Rook think he’d be here with the woman he loved, praying to whoever would listen to his sorry ass that she’d make it out okay.

  “Bobbie, baby.” He leaned forward and whispered her name again. He didn’t know if she could hear him, but he had to believe she could. He’d been talking with her constantly since she’d been out, telling her positive things, things they’d do when she woke up and got better. He was going to make life so fucking happy and good for her.

  He breathed out and stared at her sweet face. Her bruising and swelling were slightly better, but hell, Jimmy had beaten her to the point she was black and blue. God, he fucking hated this shit.

  I’d kill that motherfucker all over again if I could.

  “Bobbie, baby, I want you to know that I’m not letting you leave me. I love you so damn much. You leaving me alone in this shitty world isn’t going to happen.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Just having you here makes me feel fucking incredible, but you have to wake up, baby girl. I know you’re strong, if not you wouldn’t be able to put up with my ass.” He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on their conjoined hands. After a second there was a knock on the door, and then he heard it being opened.