Page 77 of Wolf.e

The basement isn’t really a basement. The same wrought iron railings lead down to a huge space. It’s wide open and French doors lead out to a covered patio overlooking the lake.

The entire floor is rubber matted. Mirrors line all of the back wall. It’s not so much the space as what’s in it. A large sparring area surrounded by workout equipment, weights, kettlebells, racks holding even more weights, a state of the art treadmill, a variety of punching bags in different sizes.

“Wow,” I breathe out. “This is… something. No wonder you look like… that,” I blurt out, and I don’t miss the side eyed smirk he gives me.

“You saw the shooting range outside?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“You’re going to learn to use that too.”

“I’ve never shot a gun. I have no intention of—”

“Of course you haven’t shot a gun, but this is the place you’re going to learn how to fight, little hummingbird. I meant what I said. I never want you to be afraid again, if you can fight me, you can fight anyone.”

I gulp and look around, feeling the daunting weight of what I know he’s going to put me through.

“Every minute you aren’t at work and I’m free, we’re here. You’re mine to mold. Get ready.”

“Awesome,” I bite out.

Gabriel walks by and smacks my panty clad ass and I try not to think about the way him molding me excites me.

“Let’s sleep. Training starts tomorrow.”

I look up from dropping my bag on the concrete floor. Last one. My ride report for service comes in eight hours. Another tour. The last one was eighteen months. They told me to prepare, to get myself ready.

I told them all to go fuck themselves. Heading to Kuwait doesn’t scare me. If I die, I die. There's only one person I care about. Only one woman whose feelings and worry matter to me. The only reason I don’t want to go is because I won’t be here to protect her.

I look across the room at my father, sitting under the window smoking his breakfast weed. I’m surprised he’s even alive after last night’s fuck up. My uncle Ray had to go pick him up at the Cardinal Motel on 17. Fucking coked out rage caused him to nearly beat some twenty-year-old girl to death after he fucked her stupid.

My uncle has dealt with this shit before. This is the norm with him, and I’m surprised he hasn’t taken care of my father himself yet. The only reason I can guess that he doesn’t is because my uncle has his own shit to deal with. He hasn’t been well and right now it takes most of his strength just to get out of bed in the morning. But it would be doing the club a favor, because at this point, Dad causes more shit than he’s worth and we all fucking know it.

Especially when we found out the woman he hurt last night is the daughter of a rival club vice president. The Huesos Rosas MC, a major player in Atlanta and Columbus. We’ll be trying to make that right for a long fucking time.

“Better go find your mother. She’s been crying all fucking morning,” he says in between puffs.

I flex my fists. The only reason I don’t hit him is because my uncle told me I couldn’t. It takes everything in me most days.

“We can ride together?” Jake says, patting me on the back, saving me from answering my piece of shit sperm donor.

“Yeah,” I answer.

“She’s at the garden center,” my father adds before standing and stumbling out of the room.

I shake my head. At least I won’t have to see him for the next year. Maybe when I come back, he’ll be dead.

The drive to the garden center my mother volunteers at on Main takes Jake and I less than ten minutes. She sees me and starts waving before I even stop the bike. She’s happier these days. My father doesn’t pay her much attention now that he knows he’s risking death at my hand by going near her. He knows she’s under my protection and my uncle has made sure he won’t touch her physically, at least while I’m gone. The promise of losing his hands seemed to do the trick.

She smiles at me but I see the sadness in her eyes as I approach.

“Gabe. My warrior,” she greets me with a hug when I come to her. Her long dark hair is pinned back for work and the lines around her eyes remind me she’s getting older. I hope to find her this at peace and healthy when I come home.

Jake heads off to talk to the blonde my mother works with, and she and I decide to go for lunch.

“A lot of these guys you’re going with, this is their first tour?” my mother asks as we eat.

I nod and take a bite of my steak. “12th Expeditionary Unit, a lot of them are first tour.”

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