Page 46 of Bound by Wreckage
“Another MC in our territory is a slapin the fuckin’ face,” a very large bald man said, who Chelsea says is her old man, Stiff. He’s a mountain of a man, and one look sent chills down my spine.
Another MC. There’s another MC around Dryersburg. Fuck. Is it Buck? Panic fills me, and my pulse picks up. Everyone has been kind here. I won’t drag them into my mess either. Vipers Creed are in control, and everyone knows it. The onlyreason another club would come here… is for me.
“Finish up eatin’ and let’s hit the fuckin’ road,” a man Chelsea called Spook says as the fear races through me. It could be him. He could find me. Finding my breaths, I move to the back of the diner, grab my bag, and dart out the door without ever looking back.
It’s what led me to Nashville, moving to the center of the state. My thoughtwas if I needed to, I could go up to Kentucky. Not that I knew anything about Kentucky.
Setting the gun on the bedside table, I strip off my work clothes and hop in the shower setting the gun on the sink. The spray is cold as hell, and it usually takes a good five minutes of running before it actually gets luke-warm. Every time I shower a small part of my past washes down the drain, orat least, I imagine it does. Sometimes, I wish that staying in here twenty-four hours a day would help that process, but also know that’s not going to happen.
The past is part of you, but it doesn’t define you. At least that’s what Dr. Phil said on his show once, and it fits me.
After showering and getting myself together, I lay on the bed and flip through the channels on the televisionwatching the screen change colors in a flash. Another good thing is the place has cable. There’s normally always something on I can watch, and I’m free to do just that. It’s what I spend a lot of my time on, that and practicing what Gunny taught me.
Gunny and Sharon are absolutely the best people on the planet. Nox was true to his word, only making me trust him all the more. Gunny tookme under his wing, taught me how to fight, shoot a gun, and how to strip away a weapon from anyone—even him. It took me a bit to get the hang of the gun; the kickback was something else, and I had bruises from the shotgun from not holding it correctly when Gunny showed me how to. Getting flustered with a gun is not something anyone should do.
Once I got the hang of it the targets got easierand easier. By the time it was time for me to leave, I was able to hit five of the six shots dead center on the target. Gunny didn’t just teach me to shoot, though. No, he had me take apart the gun, clean it, and put it back together. The one on my counter has seen many cleanings and reconstructions.
Gunny is a big old papa bear. He’s rough on the outside, but inside he has a heart of gold.
That’s why when it was my turn to punch or go after him, I had a really hard time with it. Not only is hitting a bit of a trigger for me, doing it to someone else is a tough pill to swallow. Gunny would give me scenarios that I played out in my mind, putting me in positions where I’d have to defend myself.
Then he repeated that over and over again showing me moves I didn’t know Iwas capable of.
Sharon. God love Sharon. Several nights I cried, unable to hold it in. She’d come in and hold me, allowing me a safe place to fall when my heart couldn’t take any more. She is so damn strong and confident. She told me there was a time that wasn’t her and showed me how to gain a bit of what she did. The way she loves Gunny but also doesn’t put up with his shit either remindedme of my mother. My mother didn’t put up with anything she didn’t like or believe in. Sharon is the exact same. Having that similarity made me feel more at home than I probably should have.
Nox was right about her money skills too. Balancing a checkbook is something that most people know how to do, but not me. Good thing I’m a quick study because she moves fast in her teachings, sayingGotta save and know what you’re spendin’.She taught me so much for me to apply to this new life.
Leaving South Carolina was hard, almost as hard as watching Nox leave. Being in their home brought on a sense of utter security and comfort. They grew on me in such a short time that their lives became my top priority. I had to protect them—even if it was from myself.
Just like I hadto protect Nox and let him go.
That man has filtered through every thought I’ve had since the moment his car left to head back to Sumner. I wanted to go with him and be by his side, wake up every morning to him next to me. But it’s not safe. It wasn’t then and isn’t now. I have to stay as far away from him and Sumner as possible.
I may not do much in this life, but protecting thosewho stuck their neck out for me is a priority. Even if it means losing them.
Danger.
It’s everywhere in life, but there was no way I’d bring it to Gunny and Sharon’s home, and that was the direction my staying there was taking. They knew about the calls where whoever was on the other end would hang up. It shocked me to the core, and I couldn’t let anything happen to them. I toldthem that I’d call once I got settled, but I haven’t. I couldn’t. Them not knowing is better for everyone.
Nox will probably be angry with me if he finds out, knowing he wanted me to tell Gunny and Sharon where I was, but I can’t.
Or maybe not, considering I didn’t hear a word from him after he left; he won’t be mad. There was a small sliver of hope thinking that maybe, just maybe,he’d call me.
But that was squashed, and it killed me inside. Our paths won’t be crossing again, and that seriously sucks because I miss him more than I should.
On the good side, I like my job and the people I work with. It’s a good life, and I’m feeling so much better on the inside. Don’t get me wrong, I have a long way to go, but it’s better and that’s all I can ask for. If I keepmy head down, do what I’m supposed to do, I’ll be able to carve out a sliver of happy like Nox asked. Right? That damn hope starts to bloom in my chest once again.
A loud banging comes to the door, and I jump from the bed and grab the gun, holding it steady. Shoot first, ask questions later—that’s what Gunny taught me, and I like that motto.
“Delivery!” a male voice booms throughthe door. Looking out of the peephole confirms it’s a man with what looks like a pizza delivery bag. He bangs again, but I say nothing. Sure, he might be able to hear my television going, but that doesn’t mean I have to answer the door. I didn’t order anything, and I’m not answering. He can bang until the cows come home, but opening that door isn’t an option.
My pulse races as flashes ofsome of the dreams I’ve had about Buck come back to haunt me.It’s just a pizza guy. It’s just a pizza guy.But what if it’s not? What if it’s a way for me to open the door so they can barge right in? What if it’s someone working for Buck and he’s found me? My legs tremble, but I keep the gun steady knowing if that door opens by itself, I’ll shoot to kill.
I will not go back with Buck.Ever of my own freewill.
Sweat beads down my temples while my stomach twists in a knot. The rush of heat is hard to control as panic sets in. I may not open the door, but that doesn’t mean the man will go away. It’s not like I can call the cops. That’s all I need is a cop to run my new ID and come up with something to get me caught.
Not happening.
“Hey, man!” another malevoice says in the distance as I look out of the peephole again. The delivery guy turns from my door and heads down to the right. I release a deep breath and will my heart to slow the hell down.
This is my life. The good, bad, and sometimes ugly. Also, it’s very, very lonely. Even with a new friend, it’s not the one I truly want. One that I’ll never have.
