Page 70 of Gunner

Archer shakes his head, growing more exasperated by the second. “It’s breast augmentation, but alright. There are only so many emergencies I can make up to excuse myself. Unless I have eight grandmothers, the funeral excuse is wearing thin.”

“Fine.” Raiden claps his hands. “We’ll clear out.” The men and women just behind him start doing just that, but Raiden isn’t finished. He takes one step into the room, making it feel crowded and tiny even though it’s not. “We feel you, brother. Tyrant is back at the clubhouse, but I know he’ll give us mento go with you. I don’t think you should be going with a gashed open head and probably a concussion, but that’s not my business.” He nods at me, by way of goodbye. “He says he’s fit to ride, he’s fit.”

Thank you so much for your expert medical opinion.

“I’m going to stitch him up, so no gash, and as far as I can tell, he’s not concussed, but you should keep an eye on things. I’d definitely recommend against riding a motorcycle,” Archer says.

Ronan tenses in the chair. “I’m coming. I’ll ride in a damn cage if I have to.”

“You could get on the back of my bike, princess. It’d make sense, given how pussy whipped you are in a record short amount of time.” Raiden winks, but I don’t know how much Ronan can even see through his bleary eyes or can even force his brain to focus on.

Ronan just glares at him and winces as Archer tries to clean his head wound.

“Anyway, let Archer finish up. I’ll have Crow wait outside to make sure you both get back to the clubhouse.”

“Acting like a VP at last. Good job, Sparkles.”

“Call me Sparkles one more time and—” Raiden huffs out.

“I happen to like Sparkles. I think it’s adorable.”

I’m guessing that’s an inside joke. Despite the words, I can see that there’s affection behind the teasing. Ronan needs to be here, he might think that he’s never fitted in, but it’s clear that these men are his family. “Great to see you’re not concussed, but I think something knocked loose in there.” Raiden points at his skull. “You’re normally so quiet you could be a ghost.”

I take Ronan’s hand and press his bloodied knuckles to my lips. “Not a ghost. Just flesh and blood that does indeed need stitches. Thank you for everything, Raiden. We’ll definitely be back at the clubhouse soon and I promise that I’ll sort all of this out.”

Ronan gives a warning growl at my stubborn insistence. Raiden just chuckles. “You’ve finally met your match, Gunner. It’s good to see. You sucked when you were single.”

“You’d know all about meeting your match.”

“I do,” Raiden agrees easily. “I most definitely do.”

After he’s gone and Archer is getting ready to do those stitches, Ronan’s eyes flicker to my face. “I didn’t suck when I was single, just so you know, but I’m a thousand percent better with you.”

I don’t release his hands. I can’t find words, but I don’t need to. The way he’s looking at me tells me that he understands everything I feel.

“For a bunch of supposedly hardcore bikers, you guys are truly sappy,” Archer quips. “Bend forward, please. I’m going to numb you and then we’ll start.” He winks at me, but only I can see it. For Ronan’s benefit, he continues. “Don’t worry. Just like I’ve kept this place a secret, I’ll be sure not to tell anyone that your killer aura is just cover for a ton of golden retriever energy.”

Chapter 21

Gunner

Ifeel like hell was just handed to me in an internal handbasket, but there’s no way I’m letting Diletta meet her father at the airport herself. She might think that she can persuade him, but I know what men like Luciano Cosmo are like.

She laid down her own list of no ways, which involved taking the car she’d ‘borrowed’ and driving me in it. The armada of bikes trailing behind us blaze down the freeway to Seattle, the open road and sky a bruised purple pink. It sounds good to call a sky bruised, but it’s not actually a beautiful comparison. I feel like ground beef tossed into a blender to make some sort of gross pate-like product, and I can’t imagine I could look like anything better than a dog’s upchucked breakfast.

Diletta hasn’t said much, but as we navigate through the city with our full escort, she keeps inhaling and exhaling in measured breaths.

I give her time. I don’t want to intrude on her thoughts or demand answers. She’s been through enough today. She needs to mentally prepare herself to face her father. It can’t all be bad. She must have so many mixed feelings that it does her head in to the extent that mine’s been beaten. She hasn’t seen her father in years. This would have been a happy reunion if he’d just controlled his goonish tendencies and talked to his daughter. I get that the man is protective, but my god.

We could both have done without this.

Diletta breaks the silence when we’re in sight of the airport. I’ve never been to the private tarmacs, but her father’s jet is waiting there. If I ever doubted Luciano Cosmo’s intelligence, his reluctance to be more than ten steps from his getaway vehicle would have silenced them.

“I see your point about wanting to come with me for this. I understood as soon as my father asked me to meet him at the airport. Chances of him wanting to whisk me away are um- uh… fuck, I can’t even make a comparison. They’re high. Ridiculously high. Even if he doesn’t want to force me to go with him against my will, it seems like he thinks he can convince me.”

I raise my hands, even though the action makes my head pound. There’s not much right now that doesn’t, and I refused all the painkillers Archer offered. I need my head clear right now, even with the club at my back. I know they’ll protect Diletta when I physically can’t, and that meanseverything.

I won’t forget what they’re doing for me.

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