Charlie's Heart: MC Romance (Burning Bastards MC Book 3)

by Ryder Dane

  She grabbed his arm and shook it. “Birdsong Johnson died tragically in an explosion when he tried to kill me. You pulled me from the cave just before the place went up with Birdsong inside. That is what I saw, and that is what they will hear from me. You were just arriving when you saw him put the dynamite down and you ran inside to get me out. They won’t arrest my hero. I won’t let them. Do you understand what I am saying? Birdsong died a deserved death, and you might have wanted to kill him, but you didn’t.”

  He pulled her close and kissed her again before letting her go so he could go inside for a wheelchair. It would be a miracle if the cops believed her story, but he trusted her word, and resigned himself to being henpecked.

  Chapter Five

  In the end, her story was taken as the official record of happenings. Charlie’s injuries supported the story, and Charlie knew she wasn’t happy the doctor at the hospital declared that she was dehydrated and had signs of mild exposure, her feet had several stones and briars embedded under the skin. He said she would need to spend the night for observation.

  Given the suspicion of the agents assigned to protect her until they were certain the threat to Judge Pearson was over with, there was heavy distrust and dislike between them and the old biker.

  Charlie finally had had enough. He leaned over Selma and gave her a quick kiss on her sleeping lips. “I’ll be here to take you home when they’ll let you out of here, babydoll.” He knew she couldn’t hear him, but it made him feel better for saying it. It was just as well that he went home and took a shower, he needed his arthritis meds, and some rest himself. He also needed to think about what he was going to do now.

  All the way back to the duplex apartment where he lived, he thought about what he would be forced to do in order to live with Selma in his life. The only solution for him was to do what she’d asked him to do in the first place. Fuck.

  He backed the Indian under the carport next to the ‘Cuda. He bought the classic car as soon as he was released from the VA hospital in D.C. back in ‘70. It was kept in pristine condition, just like the Indian. It was his birthday present to himself before he’d shipped back out for another tour of duty. That tour had turned into a third, but he never regretted it. His country was worth the sacrifice. The handful of medals and even the purple hearts were just symbols now.

  He came home for the last time in ’74, a year before the last choppers left Vietnam, and the only reason he’d left then had been the explosion that rattled his brain, and sent one of his ribs through his lung. It had taken him almost a year to relearn the simplest of tasks. Thinking on his time in the rehabilitation center often made him feel guilty about the guys he hadn’t been there to save. It had taken years, and thousands of miles, to come to terms that he couldn’t save them all.

  Seeing the way he and his fellow soldiers were being treated by an ungrateful nation took what little pride in his accomplishments during the war, and dropped them into a big pile of cowshit. He still helped his fellow veterans when he ran across one. The empty eyes and disillusioned look was almost universal with the homeless, and he always felt his throat tighten at the sight of yet another good man wasting away. Why had he been fortunate enough to be spared? The dumbest thing about all of it was that he’d put the uniform back on and take up arms again in a heartbeat if his country needed him. So would the thousands of homeless veterans across the country. It didn’t matter their own country continued to betray them, even to this day, that oath of allegiance was burned into their souls.

  He was sixty-two years old and felt every one of those years as he slid his body into the hot tub of water. The shower knocked the dirt off, but the tub would help ease his tortured muscles, and he laid back and let the heated water do its work. The water stung the nicks and cuts from the explosion, but the slice over his rib hurt like a motherfucker.

  When he climbed out of the tub after the water cooled, he dabbed the slice and used butterfly strips to pull the edges of the wound together. He coated the entire thing with glue they called a liquid bandage, and hissed through the burn of the chemicals adhering to the wound. If he was careful the wound would heal fairly fast, and he’d have another scar for Selma to kiss better when she was finally back where she belonged, in his bed, and in his arms.

  Grabbing a frozen dinner from his fridge, he nuked it and sat in his chair in front of the small flat screen to watch the news. Seeing the news that those cocksuckin’ goat fuckers had beheaded another man pissed him off. “Why in the hell are we coddlin’ these fuckers? Hunt every one of them sonsabitches down and drop ‘em where they stand. Of all the dumb shit. Goddamned pansy-assed government we got.”

  He trashed the rest of the food and took a beer from the fridge to wash the pain meds down. His system was so used to his drink of choice that it didn’t seem to have an affect on either the meds or the buzz he was looking for. The buzz didn’t come to him, but he was so fuckin’ tired that it wouldn’t matter once he fell asleep.

  He woke up feeling like shit and took a cold shower. Twice in the night he’d woken up from his nightmares, and the clammy sweat that had dried on his skin was washed away with the water down the drain. He toweled off and happened to see his naked form in the mirror. No matter which angle he saw of himself, nothing changed. He laughed at his own vanity, after all, “You was never a cover model for a romance book to begin with. What the fuck are you looking for? You let your ass fall apart, and now you want to see the muscles you used to have, you gotta’ go back to work on them.”

  He wasn’t flabby, his ass wasn’t as tight as it’d been, and his balls hung a little lower, other than that he was the same as he’d always been to look at. A little older maybe, but not ready for the pine box yet either. He hated to shave his face, it had been years since he’d sported clean cheeks, but he gritted his teeth and set his jaw to the task.

  Selma woke up feeling panicked. She looked around and remembered Charlie and how he came to her rescue.

  A nurse came into the room and smiled at her. “Good morning, ma’am, I just need to take your vitals, and in a few minutes they will be bringing the breakfast trays up, so you can get some solid food onboard.”

  She waited until the nurse finished her task, and began asking questions. “What time will the doctor be making his rounds, and where’s Charlie?”

  The nurse pursed her lips and shook her head. “The doctor will be checking on his patients around ten this morning. I’m sorry I don’t know anything about a Charlie. There’s two officers stationed outside of the door, but other than them, I have no idea who you are talking about.”

  She didn’t hear anything else the nurse said to her, didn’t even acknowledge her leaving the room. Charlie wasn’t here. She’d lost him again and, “Dammit to hell.” She began throwing her blankets off her legs, and got so tangled up in the bedding that she was screaming in frustration by the time the nurse rushed back into the room with both officers on her heels.

  The officers backed out of the room when they saw that no one was with the judge. She was red in the face and looked ticked off, they wanted nothing to do with a woman that pissed, regardless of what had caused it.

  The nurse helped her exhausted patient untangle herself from the mess, and helped her to the bathroom before getting the woman settled back in the remade bed. “There now, I hope you are more comfortable, I should have asked if you needed to use the bathroom before I left, I am so sorry.”

  “Everything is fine now, thank you.” She dismissed the woman. She wanted to wallow in her own misery, and didn’t need some tender young nurse to see her while she did it.

  Breakfast came and she drank the decaf coffee just for something to wet her throat, the eggs were ignored, but she ate the toast, and waved the aide who came to pick up the tray off. “Everything was fine, I’m not hungry.” She felt like her stomach would revolt if she tried eating the gooey looking yellow clump of eggs, and her eyes kept stinging with the effort to hold back her tears.

  T
he doctor came and after arguing with the man for fifteen minutes, he finally agreed she could be released. His recommendation that she, “Meet with a mental health advisor, I have a very good friend that specializes in PTSD, and other related traumas,” was met with her angry glare.

  “If I need to see someone I will, but I will choose my own if I choose to see someone. All I need is to go home and resume my life.”

  The nurse came in shortly after the doctor had left the room to help her dress in a set of clothing that she carried in with her. “I think I just met your friend and, girl, you are so lucky. I promised that I would have you ready and down to the main entrance in a half an hour. He said you might need these, and I can’t believe there’s another man on the planet that still opens doors for a woman. I don’t know where you found him, but I want to get one like him for myself.”

  Selma recognized her clothing, and hearing that Charlie had come for her made her heartbreak from moments ago disappear. “My Charlie is a one of a kind, and my best advice for finding a good man is to find a bad boy, or in my case a bad man.” She knew she sounded all smug and shit as Charlie would have said, but screw it. Her ol’ man was here for her and she was not going to keep him waiting. She had to ask, “Did he bring the bike for the ride home, do you know?”

  She had her head under the bright yellow pullover and didn’t see the confused look on the nurse’s face or she might have grown suspicious.

  They were at the front doors of the hospital with the two officers behind her when she looked through the glass and saw the ‘Cuda. Her grin turned to confusion when a man dressed in new blue jeans and a sport coat over a dark blue button front shirt walked through the doors. He smiled at her and she thought he looked familiar, even with the blackened eye and bruised cheekbone, but she tried to look around him for her man.

  “Well, your Honor, are you ready to go home? The ‘Cuda is warmed up and I thought we’d grab some take-out for lunch on the way to your place.”

  Charlie’s voice coming from the stranger told her that her eyes were not in fact deceiving her. Gone was the long hair and his face was cleanly shaven. Her big bad biker man was gone, and in his place was Mr. GQ. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as she was wheeled outside and he opened the car door for her and helped her to sit and, when he leaned down to click the lap belt in place, he stole a swift kiss before straightening up and closing her door.

  He took the discharge papers from the nurse and thanked her before rounding the rear of the muscle car and getting into the driver’s seat. He strapped the seatbelt over his slim hips, something she had never seen him do before. He drove them out of the hospital parking lot and he kept glancing at her, but she was having trouble forming words.

  Finally she could say at least part of what was on her mind and watched his cheek turn red as she spoke. “I have never seen a more handsome man in my life.” She slugged him in the shoulder. “Don’t get a big head about that. I love the scruffy man more, he rides a big loud motorcycle and he, oh God, Charlie, why did you do this?” She knew why he’d done it.

  He’d cut his long hair, shaved his whiskers and put his colors away for her. She wanted to yell at him, and to yell at herself for trying to change him in the first place. What had she done? “Tell me you didn’t get rid of the bike.” She was feeling guilty and choked on the words. “Tell me you still have the bike.” He had always been neat and attractive in his appearance, but this stranger, he was just as sexy, just as considerate as her ol’ man had been. But she wanted to cry for the loss of his beautiful long hair.

  His gruff, “I still have the bike, I couldn’t get rid of her just yet, we’ve spent a lot of years together, and I just couldn’t part with her until I have to.”

  She slumped back into the seat in relief, at least that wasn’t something she had to feel guilty about. “Thank You.”

  They stopped at the Chinese take-out place that they’d used many times before and he left the ‘Cuda running, just in case she might get cold. She was too skinny for his piece of mind and he knew from the way his own clothing had started to bag on his body, that she must be feeling the same sadness that he had during their time apart.

  He came back with a grocery bag filled with enough food to feed the entire club, but he figured they could eat leftovers for the next day or two if Selma didn’t feel up to cooking, or she didn’t have groceries in the house. Hell there’d been days he ate bologna sandwiches for breakfast, sweet and sour chicken would be a big step up from that. He was glad he had a cold case of beer in the trunk, he was sure that he would be needing it in the days to come.

  They got to Selma’s place and he came around to her side of the car to open her door and help her up from the low seat. When he picked her up and started walking to her front door, she found the voice that she seemed to have lost when they left the hospital. “What are you doing? You’re going to hurt your back, I weigh more than I look you know.”

  He set her on her feet at her front door, reached into his pocket and pulled out the key to her house that he had kept after the break up. “You don’t weigh nearly as much now as you did that day I had you pinned against your bedroom door. Do you remember that day, babydoll? I think about it all of the time. The way you rode me was something I can never forget or want to. It’s no hardship to carry the woman I love. You must’ve forgotten that you can’t wear shoes, those socks I brought aren’t gonna keep your feet from getting hurt worse.”

  He gave her a little kiss on the nose, gently pushed her inside the door, and went back to the car to get their dinner and his beer. It was a nice neighborhood, but he locked the vehicle just in case some teenager wanted to try their hands at stealing the muscle car.

  Chapter Six

  Selma had plates and chopsticks ready and forks for Charlie, who refused to never use “wooden toothpicks” to eat again once he left Southeast Asia. He uncapped a beer and handed it to her and she took the bottle immediately upending it to her lips, and he watched her slender throat work as she chugged back the cold brew. He waited until she placed the bottle on the table between her hands and looked up at him.

  “I didn’t do one fucking thing I didn’t want to. You need a man that’s respectable or one that looks respectable. This is as good as it gets. I bought a suit for the times we have to go out with your high-tonie colleagues, but this is my way of trying to fit in your life. We can go the fancy places you like so much and I’m aware that you are a lot younger than I am, so I don’t want you to curb your fun thinkin’ I won’t be willing to go with you.

  “I went to turn in my patch, but Big Dog told me to keep it.” He looked away from her face, because the things Big Dog said to him weren’t fit for her ears. Much of what the club Prez said pissed him off, but the rest, well the rest made his eyes sting. The fucker told him he would always be welcome, and as far as the Bastards were concerned, he was on vacation for an extended period of time.

  He drank half of his own beer and sat down opposite his woman before deciding to get it all out into the open.

  He reached out with his hand palm up, and waited for her to place hers over the top, when she did, his long fingers closed around her hand. “It’s like this, when I cut you loose, it was the right thing to do. I wasn’t ready to give up much for you until you weren’t there. I’m a stubborn old fucker, and to pay me back for my selfishness, I didn’t have you anymore. I about had a heart attack when those suits showed up and told me you had been snatched outta your home. I already felt like shit, but I went outside and finally listened to your messages.” He choked a bit on the last few words as he recalled his feelings at the time.

  “I let you down when you needed me, and I ain’t gonna take that chance again. If I had been here with you, Birdsong would never have gotten his hands on you. I can’t take back what’s happened, but I can be here to make damn sure it don’t happen again. If cutting my hair and becoming respectable is the price I have to pay for the privilege of being your man, to my way of
thinking, it’s a price I’m willing to pay.”

  He looked away from her, hell, he felt the fool for all this sharing of feelings, but she needed to know, and he might never get the gumption to have this conversation again. He’d always avoided getting involved, but he was as deep as he could get with this woman, and he gave up fighting the feelings he had for her.

  “Without you, well my life wasn’t so damn great, I was lost without you. It’s gonna take some adjustment on my part, ‘cause all I’ve ever been is a old scooter bum, I never locked down long enough to have a family, I got no kids, all I got is the ‘Cuda and the scoot. If that’s enough for you, then I’m your problem now, for as long as you want me.”

  Charlie watched as Selma listened to every word he said and when he finished speaking, she was out of her chair. She stumbled and ended up landing on his lap anyway, but it was exactly the spot she’d been headed for to begin with. Her hands cradled his smooth cheeks and her eyes locked with his.

  “I love you, and I love that you are willing to try to be what I thought I needed you to be. If the time comes and you can’t live this way any longer, promise me that you will tell me. Please promise that if you need to take a ride to blow off the pressure that you will jump on the bike and let the wind help. I want you to be happy to be here as much as you want me to be happy. Promise me, and then let’s go celebrate in that big bed that’s held too many memories for me to sleep in since you’ve been gone.”

  Charlie kissed her lips, and ran his hands over her slender body, “I’ll be happy as long as we’re together, babydoll, you took my greasy ol’ heart and patched it up, it’s yours now, girl, don’t ever think I’ll want the damn thing back. Now you need to stand up and drop them pants if you want to keep ‘em wearable.”