Page 49 of Gunner

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! As Nona Coleen would say, what the hell is going on with me?

“Brother.” Raiden doesn’t hesitate to clap my shoulder this time. “You can use that cabin if you’ll trade me for the next week of VP duties. Whatever Gray needs. I’m behind on the books and I need to bury myself and not come up for air if we’re going to get balanced.”

“We could just find someone for the position,” Tyrant argues. “Train one of the guys. You’ve been mentoring Jonathan since he was a prospect, and he just patched in. He’s a full member now. He’s got the same hard-on for books that you do.”

“Getting his GED was important to him. Doing our books? That’s next level. He’s smart, but it takes a special level of dry to be an accountant.”

“But this is fun accounting. Funneling money, laundering, figuring out where to dispense all those piles.”

They finally remember that I’m still standing here. Tyrant grins at me. “You can use the cabin without Raiden’s ask. The only thing I need help with coming up is getting that bulletproof glass installed in a few of the rooms that don’t have it yet, and razor wire. I agree, though. We should train someone.”

“Like I said, it takes a special someone to want to sit and wade through that. Even dirty money is still money and club books are still books. If anything it’s worse when there’s more of it to go around. I’m good at it. I don’t want to give it up.”

“That’s the problem. At least get someone in line to help you.”

“Atlas?”

“Jody’s been complaining that she never sees him as it is.”

“Are you serious? That’s news to me. I thought they were tight.”

Tyrant and Raiden drift off, not dismissive, but lost in the Prez, VP moment. They live, breathe, and bleed the club, but they also have that weird undercurrent of silent communication they do like freaky twins. We have twins in the club, and I swear that they don’t even do that telepathic communing to the level these two do.

I leave them, heading straight to the lounge where I know Diletta is.

The area is empty and quiet except for the few massive bodies still sleeping it off from the party the night before. Panic hits me hard and fast until I come to my senses. The other obvious choice would be the kitchen.

Rita, Ella, and Lark are at the table with Diletta, all of them sipping cups of tea and coffee, talking and laughing easily, like they’ve known each other their whole lives.

I don’t care that the room is full or that I’m giving myself away. I stalk across that kitchen, haul Diletta up and sweep herinto my arms. I kiss her hard and long, even after Rita breaks into loud whoops and Lark and Ella start applauding.

“I need to take you somewhere,” I whisper, scraping my lips over the shell of her ear. “I have a few things to get ready first, but it’ll only take a few minutes. Do you trust me?”

She doesn’t have to think about it. “I do.”

I reluctantly set her down and take the cheers that make the back of my neck burn as I exit the kitchen. I stop at my room, grabbing my bag I was going to take with me last night. So much can change in the span of a single night. It did once for Diletta and then for me, and now everything is different for both of us again.

I just hope I can be what she needs.

The man my club needs me to be.

The human being I never got a chance to believe I could be.

Diletta is waiting for me in the kitchen, her cup in the sink, arms folded across her chest, my leather jacket that she wore last night and then again, this morning back on. It looks like a blanket, it’s so big on her. It’s fucking hot.

She takes my hand, smiling and waving to the women, who wave right back. She doesn’t say anything until we’re outside, ready to mount up on my bike.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see. It’s lovely. One of my favorite places around here, actually.”

She loses the battle to keep a straight face and laughs. “You have a favorite place other than my backyard, creeping in the windows?” Her hand shoots out and grasps mine, though, like she’s worried she’s wounded me.

A laugh scrapes up my throat. It sounds strange. I stop, unsure, but then do it again. It physically hurts, like having a throat raw from coughing.

“You sound beautiful,” my goddess whispers. “Youarebeautiful.”

I secure my bag, then get on the bike. I hold out a hand, steadying her as she mounts up behind me. Her arms band around my chest immediately, clinging to me even though we haven’t rolled out yet. She’s not the least bit hesitant when it comes to touching me.

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