Page 111 of Gunner

I couldn’t deny she would be right. But hey, mental illness was genetic, right? I’m sure some experts would say I developed it from the environment I grew up in. And while I could admit that was true, it didn’t diminish the hell my mother had lived in. She did the best she could taking care of me; it was only fair I did the best I could to take care of her in return.

Memories of my childhood fell away as we pulled up in front of a typical middle-income two-story home. Gunner jumped off his bike, and without taking the time to put the kickstand down, his bike landed on its side. Jingles stopped to lift the bike, while Gunner ran up the stairs. When the door didn’t open, he lifted his foot and slammed it right under the doorknob, kicking it open and seconds later, disappearing inside.

He was making my job harder. Shaking my head, I did a quick survey of the other houses on the street, noting which ones had a fucking ring doorbell so Nav could hack in and erase the footage.

“Ghost, call Nav. At least a half dozen of these houses have ring cameras.”

Ghost looked down the road and pulled out his phone, while I walked inside to see what I was dealing with. Stepping through the doorway, I stopped. King, Cash, and Jingles stood by the door, while Gunner was across the room with Haizley in his arms.

“We need to call Dec. This was self-defense.”

“No,” Gunner snarled.

“This is cut and dry, Gun,” King argued.

“Would you call your fucking brother if it was Grace?”

King’s jaw ticked.

We all knew there was something going on between King and Grace. No one asked about it though. He would tell us when he was ready. Grace had been adamant with the girls that nothing was happening between the two of them. But a man didn’t react to a woman the way King reacted to Grace if he wasn’t in love with her. We just didn’t know what the fuck was holding him back. Instead, he preferred to act like a fucking martyr, denying himself the woman he wanted.

“Jesus Christ.”

“We didn’t go any further than here,” King said.

“Thank Christ for small fucking favors,” I groaned. “I’m gonna need the van. Call Shotgun and tell him to get his ass over here with it.”

The three of them knew not to go any further into the room. But I had no choice. There was no way for me to clean the area without traipsing through it. Once Shotgun showed up, I would take the necessary precautions. For now, I walked over and crouched down where Gunner sat with Haizley in his lap.

“Not fucking now,” he growled.

“Yes, fucking now. That’s why you brought me.” I looked at Haizley’s face. “King, call Patch. I don’t want more brothers here, but we need to get her nose set.”

King walked outside, and Jingles followed. Cash stood by the door. I wondered how this was affecting him. Losing his old lady had broken him. Haizley was trying to help put the pieces back together through therapy. He knew we knew, but none of us said a word about it. We wanted our brother back, and if therapy helped, none of us would ride his ass about it.

“Sweetheart, can you tell me everywhere that bastard was? Any other rooms?”

Haizley shook her head no. Her eyes never left the dead body on the floor. Moving over in her line of sight, she twisted to look around me.

“Tell Patch to bring a sedative.” I called to Cash, and he too walked outside.

Looking at Gunner, I said, “Once Shotgun gets here, you’ll need to take her into the bathroom and get her showered. I want you to carry her, the less people walking around the better. I’ll give you bags to put her clothes in, and yours. I’ll give you a separate bag for your cut, and I’ll clean that back at the clubhouse. The other clothes will be burned.”

Looking around the room, I exhaled a heavy breath.

“There will be clothes you can both put on after you showered. Don’t go into any other rooms until I’ve checked you over.”

Gunner nodded but didn’t say a word.

Standing, I left them where they were and took up position by the front door, waiting until Shotgun and Patch arrived.

They both put the black sterile overalls I kept in the van over their clothes before coming in, and Gunner lifted Haizley off the floor, sitting her on the kitchen island so Patch could examine her.

I walked out to the van and grabbed everything I would need, before re-entering the house without my cut. That would need to be cleaned as well as the other guys that had been in the house. Even without touching anything, I never assumed you were clean if you were in the room.

“Nav has disabled the cameras in the area so we can get the body out,” Shotgun informed me, and I nodded.

We emptied the large plastic tote I kept my supplies in and lined it with plastic sheeting. Stuffing the body into the tote, I paid no mind to the sound of bones breaking as we folded the asshole any way we could to get him to fit; I was just thankful the slimy bastard was small.

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