Page 124 of Gunner

“Do you want to go home? King said you can stay here longer. You don’t have to go home if you aren’t ready.”

Her shoulders relaxed, and she slumped forward, her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands.

“Aspen, there’s more.”

I waited until she sat up. I needed to make sure she would keep this secret. I needed to be clear that this was where we slipped from therapist and patient to friends.

“Ok, I’m ready,” she said, taking a deep breath.

“Aspen, I have to ask you something. Not as your therapist, but as your friend.”

“Anything, Haizley.”

“I didn’t call the sheriff last night. I called the club. They came and cleaned everything up. They got rid of the body. I need to be sure you won’t tell anyone.”

“Oh. Absolutely. Your secret is safe with me.”

“I know this isn’t fair of me to ask this of you—”

“No, stop. He didn’t deserve to live. The things he did, the number of women he... It’s the way things are done in an MC.”

I looked at Aspen. Something had changed. It was more than just knowing Greg was dead and no longer a threat to her. She accepted what I told her without question.

“Are you ok, Aspen?”

“I am. Thank you.”

I studied her face, her body language. She was more relaxed, which made sense, knowing the man who assaulted her and then broke in and tried again couldn’t hurt her anymore. But there was something I couldn’t quite explain about the change in her. Moving back to the chair, I let my questions go for now.

“Ok. Let’s talk about how you’re feeling about all this.”

Aspen and I spent the next hour talking about Greg’s death, her feelings regarding that, and what her next steps might be. She felt she was ready to drop our sessions down to a couple of days a week rather than every day. But she wasn’t sure she was ready to leave the clubhouse for appointments yet.

Once Aspen and I were done, I went downstairs, leaving her in her room with Diesel. She wanted to be alone and process. I understood that. I still hadn’t processed what I had done.

That isn’t healthy.

Bitch, I know it’s not healthy.

I didn’t have anyone to talk to. Sure, I could call Missy. She would keep my secret. But then I would have to tell her about the club. I assumed her disdain for motorcycles and those who rode them, had something to do with how she grew up. But she didn’t like talking about her childhood.

“Tabby, please. Mr. Bear is dirty. He needs a bath.”

Entering the main room, I found Ellie trying unsuccessfully to get a bear from her three-year-old. Tabby hugged her bear tight and shook her head at her mother.

“Everything ok?”

“Haizley, maybe you can help. King bought the girls these stuffed animals for Christmas, and Tabby won’t let hers go. It needs to be cleaned, but she won’t let it go.”

“What about when she’s sleeping?”

Ellie’s shoulders dropped. “I’ve tried. She hides it. I can’t figure out where.”

“Hmmm. Does she ever put it down?”

“Not anymore. She used to let it sit next to her while she played, and I picked it up one day and she had a complete meltdown. I haven’t touched it since.”

“She seems very attached to it.”

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