Cut Wide Open (A Bleeding Scars MC Book 1)

by Abby Mccarthy

  I saw in his eyes that he didn't like this, but I needed to get stronger. I needed to stand on my own two feet.

  He followed closely behind me.

  “Mom!” Gun shouted setting down a controller to the game that he was very obviously kicking Reggie’s butt at. He rushed towards me, threw his arms around my waist, and declared, “You’re up!”

  I squeezed my arms around him and held him for a moment.

  “Mom’s gotta use the bathroom, Gun,” Gunner said softly.

  Gun dropped his arms, gave me a grin and said, “This game rocks!”

  I did my best to grin back, even though it was forced, and made my way to the bathroom. Gunner attempted to follow me in, I put up a hand to stop him. I didn't want him to go in with me. I could do this on my own.

  “Mouse,” he ground out, but I ignored him and closed the door. I did my business and then looked in the mirror. The bruising on my face was yellowing, but it wasn't as bad as it was. My cheeks looked hollowed out, and my eyes had a look that would haunt me for a long time to come.

  Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to bathe. I couldn't shower. I didn’t want to think about my showers in the dungeon, so I turned on the water for a bath and pushed the stopper. I dropped my robe to the floor and looked at my body in the mirror hanging on the back of the door. My ribs protruded a little and were covered in shades of yellow and blue. I moved to the side and saw my back, finally able to see the extent of the damage. A loud gasp escaped my throat.

  “Charlie?” Gunner wanted to know if everything was okay. I needed to face this on my own. I turned the lock on the handle a moment before Gunner tried to come in. The gashes were healing. They were just more scars. I was already cut wide open on the inside, these just clued Gunner in on a little of the pain on the outside. What made me truly gasp was his initials--the ES, branded on my skin.

  I wanted it off. I knew there was something there, but seeing those letters etched in my skin made me feel vile, like somehow, even in this bathroom, he still had a part of me. I sat in the warm water and grabbed a washcloth that was left hanging from the last person who used it. I didn’t care. The water stung on my back. I didn't care about that either. I began to scrub. The harder I scrubbed, the more the water stung. Didn't care. I sobbed out loud. I wanted it gone.

  I barely noticed the door shaking and the yelling from the other side. I needed to be clean. Sound was coming from me, I couldn't even register what I was saying, all I knew was that I needed him gone. I needed it gone. There was a loud crash and then the shower curtain was thrown open.

  Gunner grabbed my shoulders and shook me once, then twice. I realized then that I was screaming, “Get him off of me! Get him off of me!” I scrubbed at my back as I rocked back and forth.

  Next thing I knew, Gunner, still in his jeans, was in the tub crouched down in front of me. “Shh, Mouse. Shh. It’s okay.” He grabbed my wrists and pulled them in front of us. “As soon as it’s healed completely, I’ll either have a plastic surgeon take a look at it, or we’ll get it tattooed. It won’t be much longer, but you’re destroying the good skin. You have to stop. Have to let it heal.” His voice calmed me in the way that only Gunner’s could.

  I realized I was quiet again, and I was no longer screaming. I was staring into his hazel eyes, and could almost see the boy I once knew. He was different too. There was so much behind his eyes. There was the look he always gave me, that felt reserved for me, but there was pain there too.

  Chapter Nineteen Gunner

  She spoke. It was pain-filled and broken, but it was her.

  “Mouse, you’re safe. He’ll never come near you again. He’ll never hurt you again. We’ll get it taken care of,” I tried to reassure her.

  She shivered, and I let her wrist go to turn up the temperature of the water. “Let’s get you washed since you're in here, yeah?” I grabbed the wash cup I left in here when I helped Gun with his hair. Teaching that boy to shower on his own was definitely on my priority list when this shit settled. I poured some water over her hair and grabbed the green shampoo bottle from the side of the tub. I took care with her scalp as I lathered, and then I pushed her hair over her shoulder so that when I rinsed not as much fell on her back.

  Her beautiful nipples that were a shade between pink and brown peeked out from behind her knees that were drawn to her chest. My body, reflexively, began to react. Now was not the time, but even in her broken state, she was still the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I looked away and closed my eyes as my nostrils flared. I inhaled trying to will away my hard on. I opened them and accidentally caught a glimpse of her pink soft flesh between her legs, only there was dark bruising right alongside it. It was nearly black, and judging by how her other bruises already began to fade, these were the worst. My dick was instantly soft and I unconsciously gripped Charlie’s arm. It was to steady myself, but then her worried eyes caught me by surprise. I loosened my grip and murmured, “Sorry.” She caught the look in my eyes and I felt so much rage and then shame that she saw it. She didn’t need my shit on top of what she was already dealing with, but it pained me to see it. I knew if I didn't let out this rage that was burrowing deep within me soon, something bad would happen.

  I hurriedly finished her hair and got out. My jeans pooled water on the floor as I stripped them off and slung them over the shower curtain rod. My shirt was soaked through too, so I stripped that off leaving me standing in my boxer briefs. Charlie looked at me from the tub where she still sat, but she was no longer rocking, just staring. I’d given anything to know what she was thinking.

  I grabbed a towel from the small closet and wrapped it around her, then threw her robe over her shoulders and scooped her up into my arms. Without being prodded, she brought her arms around my neck to hold on.

  In the hallway, I saw Shane and he nodded to the empty spot where Gun had been sitting “Reggie brought him outside as soon as he heard you.” I gave him a chin lift, and hurried Charlie into our room.

  I laid her down on the bed, and pulled the blanket over both of us. Under the covers, I kicked off my briefs. I didn't care that I was naked next to her. It came naturally. I didn't even think. I just stripped myself bare, so I wouldn't soak her and then held her. Terrycloth separated our bodies. She relaxed into me, while my body was strung tight. I knew when I’d found her hanging from the wall that hell had been unleashed on her, but it wasn't until seeing those dark bruises that I really grasped it. The not-so-funny-thing was that I’d seen her naked already, but maybe my mind wasn't ready to admit what I was looking at. She fell asleep and not long after began to thrash. I hooked my leg over hers and squeezed her tight, only her thrashing jostled her towel loose and then my naked body was pressed against hers. I froze, not wanting to scare her. What if she woke and my dick was pressed against her thigh? I didn't really get much of a choice because she calmed almost immediately and then after another few minutes of her sleeping soundly she hooked a leg on top of mine. We became a tangled mess of limbs. I wanted to sleep and savor the feeling of finally having her in my arms. I wanted to put my mouth on her skin and wake her during the night like I’d dreamed of so many times doing. I wanted a lot of things, but life was a cruel bitch, dealing me a hand I didn't know how to play. I wasn't piecing her back together. I didn't know what I was doing, but it wasn't that. I was the dumb motherfucker who caused this, from one bad decision to the next. I wanted to stay with her all night like that, but I waited until she was in an even deeper sleep, then I unhooked my legs and slid away from her, careful not to wake her.

  I got dressed and watched over her for a few more minutes before leaving her. Inside the kitchen, I saw a bottle of Crown. I didn't bother with a glass, but untwisted the cap and gulped it back. My son was on the couch asleep, and Ace stared at me from the darkened room.

  “Not going to fix shit with that, and you know it.”

  I ignored him and took another gulp, “Need to do something.”

  “Not that,” he nodded towa
rds the bottle knowing that this was a slippery slope for me, and one I wanted to slide down. I wanted to fall away and not have any of this shit that I had going on to be real. I wanted to escape it.

  “Fine. Need you to look after them for me, then.” I grabbed my vest and took off. Outside, I opened my phone. I knew the lay of the land, knew the closest place to find a fight. There was one not but twenty minutes from here. I dialed Dimitri. “I’m in tonight. You get me a big ass motherfucker that won’t fall easily.”

  Dimitri, the ever happy to do business with me Russian motherfucker, smiled into the phone. I could actual feel his fucking smile. I’d just made him a lot of money tonight. I’d thrown a leg over my bike when Shane caught up with me. I shot him a look that said leave me the fuck be.

  “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

  “I need a few fucking hours,” I snapped.

  “So, what? You’re going to get plastered while your woman and kid are going through hell?”

  “Nope, I’m going to do that other thing I’m really fucking good at. I’m going nuts in there and if I don't let it out…”

  “I get it. I’ll come.”

  “No, need you here. No offense, but I need to do this alone.”

  He eyed me, “Don’t think you going in alone when we’re dealing with this shit, Brother.”

  “Fine, then send Donny and Knuckles with me. They’ll have my back, and the two people I trust more than anything will be here to watch over my family.

  He didn't want to give in, but I didn't really give a fuck. I saw it on his face when he decided to let me be “Fine, I’ll get them.”

  A short while later, Knuckles, Donny and I were pulling into a warehouse in a podunk hillbilly town in PA. I knocked on the back door, that didn't look like an entrance, but was the only entrance that actually worked in this place. In my fighting days, I was here often enough, and even though it had been some time since I’d been on the circuit, I needed it tonight.

  The crowd was thick, men huddled around in the dimly lit warehouse. In the middle of the cavernous room, a circle was spray painted on the ground, giving the men in the makeshift ring their barriers as they danced around each other waiting for the next hit to come. The fighters were lightweights, at best. Both men looked scrappy, but in their own way, were tough.

  A minute of watching them had me placing a bet on the smaller one, McGuinness. He wore typical Irish flag shorts. He was getting knocked around by the faster fighter, Thompson. Odds were favoring Thompson, but I had an eye. I didn't even plan on placing any bets, but McGuiness had that look in his eyes that said he was hungry. It said he needed this win. It said he had something to lose. Whoever said a man with nothing to lose was dangerous was a dumb ass. The real danger was a man who had everything to lose. He would fight to hell and back. He would do anything to make sure that what he had was protected. He was the dangerous opponent. Yeah, my money was on him.

  Thompson threw a hard right connecting with my guy’s jaw. It was the moment I was waiting for. Every fighter has a limit, that is, if they’re good. This was his. His stance changed, and then it was a new fight. A fight where the scrawny underdog showed the room what he was made of. Showed me what he was made of considering I dropped ten Gs on him.

  A minute later, the room was shocked. Men were cursing. A few were shouting. McGuiness won by knockout.

  Dimitri smacked me on the back and in a thick accent said, “You always did have a good eye. Whole room bet against him. You just made a fortune.”

  I pulled my shirt overhead and handed it to Knuckles. “You taping up?” he asked taking a pull on his Budweiser.

  “Not tonight.”

  Dimitri laughed. His laugh was more like a cackle that men stopped to see what would follow. “Gentleman, bloodhounds, scoundrels alike. Tonight, I have a fighter for you that hasn't been in this ring for a very long time, but I can promise you, he’s every bit as lethal as the last time he was here. Who will fight him?” He paused and looked around the room, “You?” he asked stopping at a man who fought often, a man I’d fought in the past.

  “Not tonight,” the man shook his head.

  “I’ll take a piece of him,” A large man that had to be at least six-five said, stepping out of the shadows. This was all choreographed. Dimitri knew exactly who I was fighting. He did it for the crowd. “Bull, so nice of you to step up.” Dimitri’s man started taking bets as I eyed Bull. We stood in the circle on the floor. The last fighters, long gone.

  One of Dimitri’s men took bets. I was smaller than Bull. The crowd was familiar with him, not me. He was clearly favorited. Bring it on.

  This wasn't a professional match where a ref would stop us after so many minutes. Nope, this was the type of fight that you didn't walk away from easily. Rules were for pansies. We didn't kill each other, at least not intentionally, other than that, everything goes.

  Bull was tall, broad shoulders, with a scar ran down his chest like he’d been split open before. His stance wasn't necessarily of a fighter and the way he circled me, I realized he most likely won based on size and force. He took up more space in the ring than me, but not by much. He was only a few inches taller than me. His arms were bigger, but that didn’t mean much. He was the first to strike. It was intentional on my part. I liked to know right upfront what my opponent brought. When his right hook connected, it was a fucking force. He hit like a truck.

  I let him get two more hits in. Truth was, I wanted the pain. I felt like I deserved it. Every time he struck me, the crowd went wilder. They thought he was going to be their big payoff. They thought fucking wrong.

  Bull moved to hit me in the ribs. I ducked, swept my leg out, and a split second later, I took the legs out from under their mighty Bull. The room took on a murmur instead of a roar. I could’ve jumped on Bull and ended the fight. I didn’t. I let him get up so that I could knock him down again. The second time he was a bit more prepared for it, so I changed tactics and hit him with a quick throat punch before knocking him down again. I could see he was beginning to get pissed.

  While down, he lunged for my legs. I kicked and he grabbed my ankle. Using my other leg, I kneed the big fucker in his face. His head lulled to the side, and then all too soon, I let my rage out. I beat the motherfucker until they were pulling me off and raising my arms. I was declared the victor as more grumbles from the crowd ignited, because between me and McGuiness, tonight they were losing their wallets.

  Dimitri clapped me on the back with a smile. “Thank you, I knew you’d win that one,” he said to me, then raised my arm, “Ladies and gentleman, one of the best fighter’s you will ever see, Gunner the hitman!” I gave a quick shake of my head because that name was stupid.

  Fifteen minutes later, I was tilting back a beer , letting that ice cold Budweiser hit the back of my throat. Knuckles laughed beside me, “Never saw you quite like that.”

  Donnie shook his head, “You got it all out?”

  I looked at my already bruising fist. “Don’t know if I’ll ever get it all out.”

  Knuckles sobered and sat up straighter.

  Dimitri walked up with a small scowl on his face. “Thirty-five G’s on the first fight, and your fight? Holy shit, man. What the fuck?” Alright, so we bet pretty fucking heavy.

  I eyed him up and down, deciding an ally wouldn't be a bad thing. “I’ll tell you what. You pay me my payout for the kid, and I’ll let my fight go provided I get a marker.”

  Dimitri rubbed his chin and thought on this for a moment, then smiled, reached out his hand to shake mine, and said, “Deal.”

  Knuckles and Donnie followed me out. We threw our legs over our bikes and started the ride back. Thoughts of my Charlie before she was broken, plagued me. No, that wasn’t quite right. She had always been kind of broken. I looked past how broken she used to be and saw it as her unique perfection. She was able to take her shit life, and still come out shining. I didn't want to see all of the pain she’d endured, when she was so young. It
hurt to see something so beautiful, so damaged. So now, when she was really truly fucked, well now, it broke me too. I was used to being broken, I’d been in fucking pieces for so long. I just needed to keep a lid on my shit at least enough that I could carry Charlie’s weight. Coming here to fight might have helped with my rage, but the more I thought about leaving my family, the more fucked up I knew I was. That ring wasn't where I belonged, and my brothers knew it. I was just so caught up in my rage that I had to get it out the only way I knew how. I needed to trust in what they had to say to me, because it wasn't just me anymore.

  Chapter Twenty Charlie

  I blinked. The room was dark and I was cold. I didn’t have the same heat at my back that I was becoming accustomed too. I was alone, but something had woken me, and then I heard it.

  “Mom, don’t go. Momma, stay.”

  “Shh, boy. It’s just a dream.”

  His sobs followed and I couldn't lay here while my son fell apart. I shot out of bed, quickly tied the robe around me, and then left the room to find my son being consoled by one of Gunner’s friends. Gunner wasn't here and my sweet boy was being comforted by someone I didn't know.

  I’d been beaten down before.

  I’d been broken.

  But it wasn't about me. My son needed me.

  Acting on pure adrenaline, I took him from the tattooed biker and scooped him up in my arms. He was heavier, or I was weaker than I realized either way, I didn't care. I held him to me. I attempted to walk back to the room but my tattered body wouldn't let me. I plopped us down into the nearest recliner desperate to not drop him.

  “Shh,” I purred. It was that simple sound that had my son look up at me and quiet his tumultuous mind. I couldn't think about anything, but Gun. I couldn't think about my trauma, or my body. I couldn't think about what I’d been through. I needed to get my shit together, because it wasn't just me. Gun needed me. He is what I held on to while I was in that hell. He is who I’d prayed to have in my arms again, and he is who needed me right now.