by Debra Kayn
"His brother is dead," she said.
"And, you're alive. Rod is alive." He stepped back. "That's all that matters."
"It's not that simple."
Her dad paused. "It is that simple."
Heather closed her eyes for a moment. There were more things going on that her dad would never understand. She needed to be with Rod. When her dad rode up, and then LeWorth, Mel, and Battery, Rod had closed himself off. From his MC brothers and her.
She shivered, remembering the way he'd turned cold and hid his reaction. His words spoken in monotone. His actions robotic and in charge.
The garage door opened and one after another, everyone walked out of the house followed by Rod. Heather stood from the step and walked toward the driveway.
Rod broke off from the others and stopped her before she could get to the group. "I'm taking off."
She tilted her head trying to see through what he wasn't saying. "How long will you be gone?"
"An hour or two." He tilted her chin. "Have your dad clean up your neck and put something on it, so you don't get an infection."
She nodded. "How's Girl?"
"She's..." Rod cleared his throat. "She's under the bed in the spare room. Maybe when Swiss is done taking care of you, he can look at her."
"Will she let him?"
Rod's mouth firmed. "We can only try. She'll never allow us to take her to the vet in town unless she can't get up and I can carry her. The fact that she made it to the room and hid beneath the bed makes me think she's hanging in there. I need..."
"It's okay." She placed her hands on his chest. "Dad and I will help her."
He nodded.
She leaned in and whispered, "We'll be okay."
"Yeah." He gazed over her head. "I didn't have time to clean up in there. I need to finish what I started."
"It's okay. We'll figure everything out."
Rod rocked back on his heels, backing away from her and looked at her dad. "Take care of her."
"Always, brother." Her dad stepped up beside Heather.
Rod never looked at her again before he walked back into the garage and pulled the truck out and drove down the driveway. She watched LeWorth open the gate, and then the bikers escorted Rod away from the property, carrying his brother under the tarp in the back of the pickup.
She refused to ask where they were going or what they were doing. Her only concern was that Rod would survive what happened today.
"Let's get you inside and cleaned up, then we'll look at the dog," said her dad, turning her and leading her into the house.
She pushed forward, concentrating on one thing at a time. Today would have monumental repercussions for Rod. If she thought of the big picture, she'd fall apart.
Ignoring the living room, she walked down the hallway to the bathroom. Her first look in the mirror left her recoiling. The collar of her shirt was stained red with blood. The glue in the Duct Tape knotted her hair and left an angry red mark across her face.
Her dad stepped into the bathroom. "Do you want to jump in the shower before I treat your cut?"
The thought of getting naked after Tim invaded Rod's home and attacked her made her stomach roll. "I'll just use soap and water to scrub my neck clean and worry about my hair later."
"Let me know when you're done." Her dad backed into the hallway. "I'll grab one of Rod's shirts for you to wear and you can get out of your dirty shirt. I also need to go out and get my bag from the Harley to treat your neck."
"Go ahead, I'll be fine." She turned on the faucet and let the water heat.
Using the body soap from the shower, she carefully cleaned the dried blood on her neck and found the cut. She'd expected worse than the shallow three-inch cut. Gritting her teeth, she scrubbed over the injured area.
The wound started to bleed again.
Her dad stood in the doorway. "Here's a shirt."
"Thanks." She caught the T-shirt he tossed her way.
He turned around giving her privacy. She removed her ruined shirt and put it in the wastebasket beside the sink. Once she was dressed, she sat on the closed toilet and said, "Okay, I'm ready. Do your damage."
"Not going to hurt you," said her dad.
"I know." She sighed and tilted her chin up. "It was a bad joke."
He grunted and held her head to the side. "This ointment has a numbing agent in it. It'll make it feel better."
"I can't even feel it."
"I'm only going to put a butterfly on so it'll stop oozing. You can take it off in a few hours once it seals good." Her dad peeled off the back of the Band-Aid and pressed it onto her neck. "All done."
"Dad?" She reached for his hand and held it in both of hers. "Thank you. For everything."
He squatted down in front of her. "If you call me, I will always come. If you need me, you only need to ask. I'm not big on words, baby, but you could do a lot worse than loving Rod."
"I do love him. I haven't told him enough or in the right way. Before today, I was scared to let him in, because I was afraid he'd..." She swallowed hard.
Her dad dipped his head, keeping her gaze. "He's not going to leave you."
"I know. I think I've always known." She inhaled deeply. "I just don't know what will happen after today. I'm not even sure he can see how much he needs me."
He brought her hands up and kissed her knuckles. "It's not easy killing a man, much less your brother."
She whispered, "R-Rod didn't kill him, Dad."
"What are you saying?" Her dad straightened.
"When Rod came in the house and found me bound on the floor, his brother was awful to him. Then Girl came in the room, and Rod fought Tim. He had a pistol right at his brother's neck, and I was sure he was going to kill him." Heather stood and grabbed on to her dad. "But, everything happened so fast, and Tim reached up and made Rod squeeze the trigger."
Her dad raised his brows and rubbed his hand over his beard. "Motherfucker," he said on an exhale.
"I'll tell the police everything, and —"
"No. There will be no police, Heather." He looked at her. "You need to let Rod and Ronacks take care of everything."
She rubbed her arms, chilled over her worry about what happens next. "But, he's innocent. Rod did not kill his brother."
"No, but baby...what happened to Rod is much worse." Her dad blew out his cheeks.
"What do you mean?"
He shook his head, his mouth thinned. "Rod's brother forced his hand and made him pull the trigger. That's not something a man can get over easily."
"He's going to need me," she whispered.
Her dad nodded. "More than you'll ever know."
She walked into her dad's open arms and hugged his waist, laying her head against his broad chest. If she hadn't come to Haugan, she wouldn't be standing here, more determined than ever to fight for and support Rod.
"We need to go help Girl." She pulled away from her dad. "I hope she comes out from under the bed for me. She's only wanted to be around me the last couple of days."
"She's got issues," muttered her dad from behind her in the hallway.
She gazed over her shoulder. "That's what Rod says, but after today, she can have all the weird issues she wants. We need to make her feel better for trying to protect us."
Not wanting to scare Girl, she called the dog's name before stepping into the room. Without Rod home, she hesitated on getting too close to the dog when she was hurt. She leaned over and peered under the bed. There were blood stains on the carpet.
Heather got down on her hands and knees and spotted Girl against the wall in the back corner in the shadows. "Hey, there," she said softly.
"See if you can get her to come out, and I'll grab her," said her dad.
"Okay, just stay back. I don't think she'll come out if she sees you hulking behind me." She crawled forward and stuck her hand under the bed. "Come on, Girl. You're such a good dog. I'll get you a bone. Do you want a treat?"
Girl remained in the corner. Heather laid down
flat on the floor. She couldn't blame the dog. After the horrific events of today, she wanted to curl up in a ball and hide, too.
After twenty minutes of pleading for Girl to come out from under the bed, Heather sat up and flapped her arms in defeat. "I give up."
"If she comes out, are you okay with grabbing her until I get back to the room?" asked her dad.
"Yes, of course. I'll do anything to help her."
"Let me try something." Her dad left the room.
Heather rubbed her eyes and yawned. Frustrated over the dog and worried about Rod, she wasn't sure how much more she could take without having a good cry. Mentally exhausted, her body trembled inside, and her head ached. The only reason she refused to fall apart was that Girl needed her, her father was taking care of her, and she wanted to be strong for Rod when he returned.
A motorcycle roar filtered through the house. She gasped at hearing Rod arriving home, and Girl crawled out from under the bed. Everything forgotten, she put her hand on the dog's back and scooped her arm under Girl's chest.
"Good doggy," she crooned, holding Girl close.
Afraid to look at the dog's leg in case it was worse than anyone thought, she concentrated on keeping a secure hold on Girl and keeping her calm.
Her dad stepped into the room. "You've got her?"
"Yeah." She looked up at her dad, and she realized Rod hadn't come home on his motorcycle. He'd taken the truck. "Nice trick. She came right out when she thought it was Rod."
"The dog might have her issues, but she's loyal to Rod." Her dad kneeled down on the floor and put his hand on the dog's back. "It's okay."
"What can I do?" Heather hugged Girl to her chest, letting the dog lay half on her lap.
"Just hold her securely. She might not like me touching her leg, so be prepared to hold her tighter if she tries to break away from you." Her dad crawled to the other side where Girl couldn't see what he was doing. "I'll try and be quick."
She leaned down and kissed the top of Girl's head. "She's a hero."
Her dad grunted. "She's licked and cleaned up her leg. There's not a drop of blood on her, but she's got a good six-inch knife cut from her hip to her knee."
"Is it deep?" She held on tighter when Girl squirmed trying to get away.
"Yeah." Her dad sighed. "I’m no Vet."
"You're not a doctor either, but you've saved Rod's life and have taken care of me," said Heather, reminding him that he could do something to help the dog.
"She's not going to let me shave her leg or put stitches in her." Her dad straightened on his knees. "Let me carry her into the kitchen. Maybe if I put her on the table, she'll stop struggling if she realizes she can't jump down without hurting herself."
Heather groaned. "I wouldn't count on her knowing all that."
"We're going to have to try." Her dad took the dog from her and carried Girl into the other room. "Get my bag out of the bathroom and bring it with you."
"Okay," she said, standing on wobbly legs and following him.
When she got to the kitchen, her dad already had Girl on the table, laying on her side, with only her head up looking at Heather. She set the bag on the table and took up position to help contain the dog.
"I'm going to put Super Glue on the wound to hold it closed. If the dog is a licker, it's not going to last long." He put the tube of glue between his teeth and took off the cap. "Hopefully, if we get lucky, it'll last overnight and tomorrow Rod can put on more glue and give it a chance to heal from the inside out. There's a spray called Blu-kote farmers use for this kind of thing to keep the wound sterile. I'll pick some up in the morning and bring it by."
She laid her head down beside Girl. "You learned first aid in the Army. How did you learn about farmers and animals?"
"Bucked hay in the summer as a teenager and cleaned shit out of stalls in the winter." Her dad tossed the empty glue tube on the table. "Keep holding on to her. She needs to stay still until it dries and seals the wound together. It was a clean, straight cut, and didn't go through any tendons or hit any arteries."
Heather gazed at her dad, in awe of this gentle hands. He'd pushed aside his anger toward Rod for sleeping with her when Rod needed him most, and he'd come to help her. From the moment she'd arrived in Haugan, he'd stepped up in the father department, never giving her any reason to doubt that he was back in her life for good.
"Dad?" she said.
He glanced over at her. "Yeah?"
"I love you."
His squint deepened. "Love you, too, baby."
Together, they stayed with Girl making her comfortable and not letting her lick her leg. Eventually, her dad carried the dog back to the spare room and put her on the floor near the bed where she crawled back under to hide.
Then, they waited in the kitchen together for Rod to come home.
Chapter Thirty Nine
Heather stood in Rod's garage at the rollaway putting away the tools he'd left out. Rod pushed the broom across the garage floor in short, hard strokes. Swiss, Battery, and LeWorth left over an hour ago, after cleaning his living room for him, and he'd used cleaning the garage as an excuse to keep Heather out of the house.
Tim pressing Rod's finger down on the trigger kept playing in his mind, and he avoided going in the room to relive the nightmare.
He'd wiped his brother's blood off him the best he could with an old shirt in the truck after he'd dug the hole to bury Tim in. Still, he knew he was covered in blood, dirt, and sweat and had caught Heather's upset reaction when she'd seen him.
He needed to get his head on straight. She needed to go to bed, and he needed to deal with going back in the house. He couldn't stay out here all night.
"What's this and where does it go?" asked Heather, holding up a tool.
"It's the tip to the air compressor." He pointed to the far wall. "It goes in the top drawer in the black rollaway."
Heather yawned, covering her mouth and walked slowly across the garage. He put the broom on the hanger by the door. When he'd told her to go inside and rest earlier, she'd refused to go without him.
He held out his hand. "Let's get you in bed before you fall over."
She slipped her fingers into his. Pushing the garage door button, he waited until it'd closed, then walked her into the house. He set the alarm out of habit and went to the back door and double checked the security alarm.
His gut tightened the deeper he walked into the house, and yet he couldn't put off going through the living room any longer. He held Heather a little tighter and walked right through the room that brought the day's event to the forefront for him.
In the bedroom, he let her go. "Go ahead and climb in. I'm going to check on Girl and then take a shower."
Heather stayed where he left her, watching him leave. He rubbed the back of his neck and crossed the hallway. Turning on the light, he lowered himself to the floor and leaned his back against the bed.
"What would I do without you, Girl?" he whispered, letting his head fall back on the mattress. "You almost got killed trying to save my woman..."
He squeezed his eyes closed and sprawled his hands on his thighs, the pressure of Tim's hand over his, Tim's finger over his finger, pushing the trigger antagonized him like a ghost in the room.
"I played right into the fucker's sick game like always," he whispered. "He couldn't even let me kill him under my own power. He had to take that away from me."
A lightweight pressure landed on Rod's thigh. He opened his eyes and gazed down at Girl. She'd come out from under the bed and laid her head on his thigh.
"You need to be alright," he whispered, digging his fingers into Girl's fur on the back of her neck. "Heather and I need you as much as you need us."
He loved on her for a few more minutes and then found a Milk Bone on his desk and gave it to her, letting her go back under the bed for the night.
In the hallway, he heard the shower going. He peeked into the bedroom and found Heather gone. Stripping down, he walked back down the hallway a
nd into the bathroom. Steam rushed him, and he shut himself into the small room, seeking warmth, Heather, and understanding.
Behind the glass shower door, Heather stood under the spray of water with her head bowed. His body swayed, and he grabbed onto the counter. He had no idea what he'd ever done to deserve her in his life.
She warranted better than anything he could ever give her. Instead, she had to accept everything that had happened during their time together. Yet she stayed with him. She fought with him. She flirted with him, and nothing that had happened drove her away, only closer to him.
If he were a better man, he'd let her go. He was too much of an asshole, though. He was going to do whatever needed to be done to keep her.
He slid the glass door open and stepped into the shower behind her. Only then had her trembling body become apparent to him. He turned her around and tipped her chin to look in her eyes.
Her tears mixed with the water dripping down her face. Always strong and patient with him, she tried to hide her fears and worries from him. Her strength only made him stronger.
"Sh, sassy," he said. "I'm here now."
She clung to him, sobbing. He held her head against his chest and inhaled deeply. She'd be alright. He'd make her better and prove to her that she would be loved forever.
Heather raised her head. "I-I can't get the glue out of my hair."
He kissed her trembling lips, then he set about making her world right again. It took two shampoos and lots of rubbing before he found out conditioner worked better on the gummed up adhesive remaining in her hair.
Rubbing a strand between his thumb and finger, he balled the glue and worked it to the ends of her hair, then started over with another strand. While he worked, Heather circled her fingers on his chest lathering soap bubbles over him. She faced him, cleaning his mistakes off him.
His cock grabbed on to the attention she gave him like a starving man seeking acceptance and forgiveness.
It took all of his concentration to finish her hair. "I think I got it all out."