Gunner

by Daniela Jackson

  Then I’m sad.

  I’m grey. Grey like Sol, grey like my mom.

  I weep for two hours, holding the urn against my chest as the first sun’s rays blind me and fill the cemetery with an orange misty aura. The frost layering the grass like streaks of silver glitters and disappears under the warmth of the day.

  Rebel is watching me from a short distance, his hands clenched on the back of his neck. He’s waiting for me patiently.

  Then he pats my shoulder. “Let’s go before someone calls the police.”

  I nod.

  Like I said, I am a vandal.

  Chapter 9

  Sol

  A loud banging on the front door shakes me out of my nap on the couch. I rub my eyes and get up, wrapping the blanket around me. The banging repeats and a nasty swear word leaves my mouth. My eyes flick over the wall clock. It’s 1.30 am. It’s the fucking middle of the night.

  I turn the key in the lock and pull the door open. My jaw drops as my eyes meet Gunner’s violent glance.

  “You look like shit,” I say.

  His face is white with a greyish tinge, cheeks sunken. He has a beard. His hair needs trimming. His clothes are drenched.

  My eyes travel to the item that he’s holding against his chest. It’s an urn. Subtle creepiness brushes the back of my neck as though a spider is crawling across my skin.

  “Are you going to let me in or not?” Gunner barks.

  “Come in,” I say angrily and move back.

  Gunner walks in, removes his boots and goes straight to the kitchen, dropping into the chair. He puts the urn on the table as the water drips from his clothes and floods the floor.

  “Asher?” he starts, his voice hoarse, full of torment.

  “He’s asleep. Still. So you’d better be quiet.”

  “Sit down.”

  “What’s wrong, Gunner?”

  “I said sit down.”

  I sweep my hand furiously and take a seat beside him. Gloom pricks the back of my neck. My heart speeds. My eyes flick over the urn, and I feel nauseous.

  “What is it?” I rasp.

  “This is what you think it is.”

  “No.” I freeze with my hand raised, my heart thumping in my ears.

  “Yes.”

  I feel like I’m eternal for one second. Like I’m sunrise and sunset clashing. Like I’m all relief. Then I’m all an agonising pain.

  I rise to my feet and move back, my lungs pleading for oxygen.

  “Sol.” Gunner moves towards me.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  He strokes my head and puts his palm on the back of my neck.

  “I said don’t fucking touch me, Gunner.” I wheeze. Tears prick my eyes. “I need to be alone. With my husband. Alone. For some time.”

  “I’ll take Asher to my place.” Gunner nods.

  “For a day or two.”

  “Okay, take your time.” He kisses my forehead and walks out of the kitchen.

  I hear him talking to Asher—soothing words, funny words, warm words. I hear Asher screech with joy. My son is never in a bad mood when he’s with Gunner.

  The door slams shut. Every molecule of my body jumps and disintegrates.

  I’m deaf.

  I’m shattered.

  I’m all alone.

  No—

  The urn is with me.

  “You see, Shay, you see where you ended up, you fucking dick. In an ugly urn. It must be fucking boring to be in an urn, huh?” My last words come out as a hoarse whisper.

  I cry deep down, silently.

  I cry hysterically for many hours until there is no tear left.

  Then I call Christa and she comes to my place in ten minutes. Hawk is with her.

  “You’d better have a good reason,” my brother growls.

  His eyes flick over the urn and he blinks a few times then winces.

  “What happened?” Christa asks.

  “Gunner has found my husband,” I say.

  Her eyes flick over the urn standing on the kitchen table. “You’re all fucked up, you know.”

  A chuckle leaves my mouth. “You chose to be one of us, remember?”

  “Yep.” She bobs her head.

  My brother went to her just after she’d called me, asking for help. Hawk removed her stepdad from the face of the earth. The motherfucker was too loving and too caring for Christa and the foster family she was placed in were too blind to help her. Hawk sorted it out and brought the girl to our family home. Now, she’s living with my parents and Hawk. Her fake ID has just arrived from Spain.

  Everything is sorted, but something is wrong with my brother. Each time I see him he looks like a hail cloud.

  A sixteen-year-old girl is living in his house. He was fed up with me. I guess, he must be even more fed up with Christa.

  “Your husband looks very handsome in this urn,” Christa says. “So black and so shiny.” Tears glitter in her eyes.

  “I thought the same.” Tears stream down from my eyes and Christa throws her arm around my back.

  “In a fucking urn,” Hawk says.

  He sweeps his hand furiously and storms out of the house.

  Chapter 10

  Gunner

  Two years later.

  I move on the chair in the office of the Devil’s Tears and Mike pushes a bottle of beer towards me. I open it and take a decent sip.

  Church has just finished and all the boys have dispersed either to the bar or to their houses. Only Mike, Rebel and I are still sitting at the round oak table.

  “I need an enforcer I can trust,” Mike says. “The boys seem to be happy with my reforms, but I need a few men around me I can trust entirely. I need my family around me.”

  Rebel puts his elbows on the table and grins at me. “I heard you’re good at this stuff.”

  “I have a son, Mike,” I say.

  “Bring him here,” Mike says. “It’s more civilised here now. This business I’m doing with the Italians is just a few jobs a week. They can ask us for a favour from time to time—to supervise the shipping of guns or to send a few boys to work as bouncers in their strip clubs. For you—it would be just being here most of the time and enjoying your life.”

  Mike has been the president of the Devil’s Tears for six months. Gabriel was shot and as a result, he developed a bad pneumonia that damaged his lung permanently so he stepped down. Thunder, the club’s vice, died of heart attack three months ago, so Mike was chosen. He removed a few pieces of scum and implemented a few of Zane’s rules—very cosmetic alterations, but the women here can’t praise the new president enough.

  “Sol won’t agree to give me Asher,” I say.

  “Bring the bitch and the kid here,” Rebel says. “The club needs you and the kid needs his father.”

  “It’s not that easy, brother,” I say.

  Rebel nods. “No, sometimes it’s not that easy.” His thoughts seem to wander off to somewhere far from here.

  “Think about it, Gunner Junior,” Mike says. “Talk to Sol. Daisy is her best friend. Use it as an argument in the conversation.” He puts his palms on the table and lifts himself.

  I salute him. “I will.” I rise from my chair. “Time for me to go too.”

  We shake hands, slap one another’s back and I walk out of the clubhouse to jump on my bike.

  I haven’t seen Asher for two weeks. I miss him like hell.

  I rev up the engine and leave the compound like an arrow released from a bow by a skilled archer.

  Five hours later, I pass Chaviva, Dimitri’s once marvellous house. It still needs a lot of repair work, but according to my dad, it’s beginning to resemble the building from a long time ago.

  The Shadow Wolves are back where we belong at last. We own this area back again. Cindy, my club cousin, and Luka, her husband, made it possible for us. Their marriage ended the war that started when Dimitri killed his wife, Dasha, Yegor Voronin’s little sister.

  I haven’t met Luka yet, and I can’t wait to. He’
s a Voronin Bratva prince. My hands are itching to smash his face at least. I’d fucking kill him if that was my choice to make, but since he’s Cindy’s husband and apparently she loves him, I could smash his face at least.

  I slow down and let the eerie primeval allure of the desert fill me. It’s early in the morning. The chill of the harsh air bites my face and invades my lungs like some fucking magic. Like a precious memory. Like an exhale of peace.

  We needed brand new fake documents and a long chat with the sheriff, Ashley Ruiz—the previous sheriff’s granddaughter, but we are on the right track again.

  Hell yeah. I love this place. It’s home. All the family in one place at last.

  I shoot towards Axel’s house and park my bike in front of the garage. Sol is waiting for me with Asher who tears his hand away from hers and runs towards me. He’s shaking, gulping, and sweeping his arms.

  “Daddy,” he squeaks. “Daddy’s back.”

  I pull him into my embrace and set him on my hip. A sense of joy and relief pervades my veins.

  “Are you going to come in?” Sol asks. “For a cup of tea or something?” Her voice has that seductive rasping I love so much.

  I haven’t touched her for two years. We are strangers to each other. We’ll sometimes drink a cup of tea together and we’ll talk about Asher’s education, that’s all.

  Sol’s doing her course, now online, while I’m looking after Asher so she has enough time for studying. Everything’s working smoothly—polite ‘hi’, polite ‘bye’, polite ‘see you later’. Cold glances. Cold gestures. The cold sense of loss tearing my heart apart.

  This coldness between us is driving me mad, but I’m getting used to it. At least, I can see her when I pick up Asher and bring him back to her place.

  “No, thanks.” I kiss Asher’s head. He smells of wind and sand and a childish freedom. “I’ll bring him back tomorrow in the afternoon.”

  “Gunner,” Sol starts and bites her lower lip.

  God, how badly I want to suck that lip of hers.

  She huffs out. “I’m going to Slovakia in two weeks.”

  “That’s great. What about Asher?”

  There’s no fucking way I’m gonna allow her to take Asher with her. Actually, there’s no fucking way I’m gonna allow her to go anywhere.

  “He’s staying here,” she says.

  I nod. “I’ll take care of him.”

  And I’ll go to have a chat with Uncle Axel. Her daddy will remove all the crazy ideas from her head.

  “No.” Her eyelashes flutter and her chin trembles. “I mean, you’re going with me and Dimitri and Rey are going to take care of Asher.”

  “What?”

  “You know how Dad and Boulder and Dimitri are. They’re so annoying. According to them, I need, you know, company.”

  “Sure.” I nod. “I’ll go with you. That’s a long way to Slovakia.”

  That’s much much better. We’re strangers to each other, but I can’t let anything bad happen to her.

  “I’ll talk to you later about all the details.” She sweeps a wisp of her hair away from her face.

  “Sure.”

  “Dimitri has already booked all the hotels.”

  “Sure.”

  “See you.” She waves her hand and smiles for Asher.

  “See you.”

  I back up and squeeze Asher in my arms, my heart pounding in my chest. “Can you tell me, little guy, what’s going on?”

  “Daddy, Asher doesn’t know.” He spreads his hands and shakes his head, his eyes wide in that funny way I love so much.

  I hook him under the arms and move him up and down, making him giggle.

  Sol

  My eyes sweep over the gravestone. ‘Munroe and Stanka, always together’ the inscription on the black granite says. It’s almost invisible. A sense of sadness and beauty surges through me. He loved her so much. I was named after her, Sol Stanka Holme. My grand granddad, Munroe, was the first president of the Shadow Wolves MC. Stanka was his beloved wife. They found home and happiness in this little town. It was our home too before Yegor Voronin’s assassins came and forced us to flee, but we’re back.

  I’m staying with my parents. My mom has reopened her art gallery and Christa’s helping her when she’s not at school. Dad is renovating the apartment in the attic of the gallery for me. He’s reopened his garage.

  Feds are sniffing around us, but we returned well prepared.

  My mom is a lawyer.

  Athena is a doctor.

  Dimitri is mafia. A retired Mafioso in fact. When he decides things are stable here, Rey and he will return to the house in the Spanish Pyrenees. Chaviva will belong to Cindy and Luka then. They want to make a hotel out of it.

  Hawk is taking care of our papers. And probably of Christa’s education to keep her away from himself. I suspect that but I’m not sure. Each time I ask him about Christa, he will grumble, “She needs to study.”

  Uncle Gunner is making sure the sheriff is very relaxed and blind. Nobody can resist Uncle Gunner’s persuasion, especially when he’s waving his long body. People pity him. People despise him. People are willing to help him.

  Maria and Carrie own all the shops in our town.

  Uncle Jax and grandpa Blaze have reopened the ‘Jilly Jet’. It has the 50s décor brought back from a very long time when Stanka designed it. Red booths and a colourful jukebox give the interior an unforgettable charm. A group of chicks occupies it on a daily basis, seeking the club members’ attention.

  Hell yeah. The Shadow Wolves own this town again though under the name the Devil’s Tears MC. We must have a safe name for the public here. It’s as though we have an umbrella to hide our dirty secrets under it. We’re independent, led by Zane, just sharing the name with Mike’s club.

  I walk across the burial ground as my eyes slide over Dash’s grave and then over Shay’s. I stop in front of my husband’s gravestone. It’s made of brown granite and glitters like a dust of diamonds is adorning it. A stone angel with outspread wings sits on the upper edge similarly to that of Dash’s.

  Gunner and Rebel found his ashes so we could bury him at last. Dash is looking after him now, I hope.

  I needed to bury my husband. I needed this to forgive myself at last. He’s dead, but will always own a special tiny part of my heart.

  Looking at his grave, I allow myself to bury him, to grieve over him, to let him go to where Dash, Munroe and Stanka are. I allow myself to make peace with his accident, to accept my life how it is, to accept danger in my life and to love it.

  My heart is endless like the intense blue expanse of the sky above my head. It’s deep enough to love someone else. To love passionately. To love fiercely. To love forever.

  I’m a wolf. I need a wolf to love.

  My son needs a complete family.

  “Ready?” Christa asks as her fingers twine with mine.

  “I don’t know. I’m standing at the beginning of a new path. It’s fucking scary, to be honest.”

  “Leave the past in the past and start enjoying your present.”

  “I have no fucking idea of what my present is.”

  “Go travelling. Relax. Everything will be alright.”

  I stroke her arm. “How is your life with my mom and dad and brother? They’re annoying, huh?”

  Her hand jerks up and she puts it on her tummy. My heart leaps. I know this protective gesture so well.

  Christa turned eighteen four months ago, but I haven’t seen her with any boy. She’s leading a life of a nun.

  “Are you pregnant?” I ask abruptly.

  “I—“

  “Who is the father?”

  Right. My dad’s interrogating genes show up.

  Christa blinks a few times. “I—“

  “Tyler? I’ll fucking kill him.”

  Anger boils inside of me. I’ve seen so many girls crying because of him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he knocked Christa up. He fucks everything he snatches up, everything with big boobs and a ro
und ass. Then he trashes them without remorse.

  “Hawk,” Christa murmurs.

  My breath stops in my throat. “What?”

  “We—“

  “My brother? Really? I thought he was gay.”

  Not that I am against or something. Mac was bi and he was lovely. He was Boulder’s cousin. He ended up with Wendy and was happy with her. I guess, she could manage to accommodate all his needs.

  Christa raises her hand and my eyes flick over the ring on her finger. It’s my grand grandmother’s ring.

  “Hawk waited until I turned eighteen,” Christa says.

  “And he knocked you up on the same night, huh?”

  “Well…”

  She didn’t tell me anything. I feel angry with myself. I’ve been too occupied with myself to be a friend to her. Thank God, she didn’t gave up on being a friend to me.

  I pull forward, dragging her behind me and we walk slowly towards the ‘Jilly Jet’. Passing the bikes parked along the wall of greenery, we climb the stairs and walk through the double door. The banging of the billiard balls hits my ears as my eyes sweep over Hawk and Tyler bent over the billiard table. They straighten at the sight of us.

  Now, I see that flicker of passion in my brother’s eyes. I send him the most mischievous of my smiles and he shoots knives towards me with his glance.

  We stand at the billiard table as my eyes flick over Celine clinging to Tyler’s back. She’s really pretty and determined to be Tyler’s old lady. Unfortunately, that’s not going to happen. Tyler is going to the Devil’s Tears next month and he has no intention to take her with him.

  I see Takis and Aphrodite seated in the booth at the flank of the bar. They’re talking to Blaze who has black fury in his eyes. My God, he’s the most lenient granddad in our family, but Takis and Aphrodite can piss him off. Jax and my dad are discussing something with Zane and Gunner Senior at the bar.

  My heart feels like a knife has stabbed it.

  Gunner Junior is with Asher. As always. He has no time for socialising or dating.

  Ice fills my veins at the thought that he could go on a date. I am selfish. I am selfish for my son. No woman will take Gunner’s attention away from Asher. Over my dead body.