The second somebody brought me a telephone, I contacted Dad.
I’d never heard my dad sob that way before. He said he’d be at camp within a couple of days. I told him to bring Ma and Leesy too, but he told me we could sort that out later. He just needed to see and talk to me and get me home.
I tried to call Elise, but the phone at her house had been cut off. My heart couldn’t take another moment without her, but at least I was back. I knew she’d have been beside herself thinkin’ I was dead. If the boot was on the other foot, I’d go on a damned rampage.
In the meantime, we were let go from the Marines with honorable discharges, which was for the best. While we were captured, me and Spence talked about leaving anyway. We didn’t know if we’d live or die, but talking about how we’d start our lives again when we got back on U.S. soil, kept our spirits up and prevented us from breaking. I couldn’t, in all good conscience, put myself or Elise through that shit again.
I hated to think of the damage control I had ahead of me. There was no doubt Elise had been hurt badly, and that was something I had to live with forever.
I’d enlisted for action and adventure and got enough to last three lifetimes.
Home was my priority now. I’d marry Elise immediately and open the auto shop. If I’d learned anything over the last few months it was to grab life by the balls. No more waiting, and no more putting shit off. There was a lot to unpack. My girl’s dad had passed, and she thought I’d been killed, too. We needed to heal, and I reckoned a big wedding would be a good start. Plus, I wanted babies.
At least our moms would be in their element planning our big day.
The instant I saw Dad, I knew something was terribly wrong.
He saw me, and his face crumbled. Within a second of walking through the door, he was sitting on my bed, holding me.
“Son,” he whispered. “It’s a miracle. Never been a godly man. Saw a lotta shit in ‘Nam that made me wonder what kind of God would put innocents through such hell. But you’re a reason to believe again ‘cause he’s answered my prayers.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, holding in all the confused feelings coursing through my veins. I had nothing to blubber about. I was here, and I was alive, but Dad’s pure, raw emotion was a sight to behold. Bikers never showed that shit, especially Bandit Stone. Me dying must’ve really done a number on him if he was here, crying all over my Marine-issue bedsheets.
“I’m okay, Pop,” I croaked. “Battered and bruised, and I need feeding up, but Mom will get on the case.”
Dad pulled back, holding my face in his hands. “Son, I’ve gotta tell you somethin’, and you gotta brace. It’s big, and it’s bad.”
I took in his bloodshot eyes and ashen complexion under his unusually scruffy beard. “What?”
Pain filled his eyes. “Your mother passed away back in January, Son. She had a massive stroke and died the next day.”
My head bowed, the strength to hold it up suddenly leaving me. “No.”
“I’m sorry.” His usual booming, raspy tone was an agony-filled whisper. “There’s nothin’ I can do to make it better, John. Believe me when I say I’ve tried. I don’t mind admitting, losin’ you and your mother so close together put me on my ass. I let a lotta shit slip, John, I wasn’t strong.”
The deeper Dad’s words sank in, the tighter my chest got. “I don’t understand. What happened.”
His fingers curled around the back of my neck, and his forehead touched my skull. “Your ma had high blood pressurefor the last few years, John. The doctor gave her meds, and she took them when she remembered, but not regularly. There was nothin’ anyone could do. We had the funeral, Son. Men came from far and wide to pay their respects. We kept it in-club, the way she always wanted. I would’ve waited, John; I swear I would if I had even an inkling you were alive.”
“Funeral?” My eyes met Dad’s, and I blinked back my tears. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”
He nodded slowly, squeezing his eyes shut. Removing his hand from my nape, he thrust it through his hair. “I know, Son.”
My head dropped back against the wall behind me as I recalled my mom’s smile, her laugh, and the way her expression softened whenever she looked at me or Dad.
I scraped a hand down my face, almost surprised when it came away wet from tears I didn’t realize stained my cheeks.
“Your mother was a fine woman, John,” Dad croaked. “She was so proud of you. She raised you to be decent and strong. In the days' comin’, you’re gonna need to call on that strength. Fact is, in my grief, I allowed a lot of shit to slide.”
“What?” I asked dazedly.
“The club’s a mess, literally and figuratively,” he advised me quietly. “Left orders to clean the place up while I was gone, but we’ve got a lotta work to do when we get back.”
“I don’t give a fuck about the club,” I snapped. “My mom’s gone. I need time.”
“That’s the last thing you need,” he retorted. “You need to keep busy and put all your energy into club business.”
“No, Dad,” I bit out. “I need to put all my energy into my ol’ lady. She’s lost her dad, her man, and a woman she looked at as a second mom, all in the space of six months. Elise is where my energy’s goin’, not the damned club.”