Reckoning: An MC Shifter Romance

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Reckoning: An MC Shifter Romance Page 13

by Aja Foxx


  "How much of this do you know about, Jefferson?" I couldn't remember if Jefferson had been in the room with Harry and Butch or not.

  "I'm a shifter, sir. A bear shifter."

  My jaw dropped. "You're a bear?"

  "Yes, sir." A serene smile crossed the stoic man's face when he glanced at Harry. "I was banished from my clan when I discovered Master Harry was my mate. They wanted me to reject the bond, but I could not." The smile faded as he glanced back at me. "I pay them half my salary in order to stay at his side."

  My anger was like an exploding inferno. "They made you pay them to stay with Harry?"

  "It was worth every cent, sir." Jefferson spoke with so much conviction, I believed him.

  Still..."They made you pay to stay with Harry?"

  "It was believed at the time that he was human, sir. My clan does not accept human mates."

  "Then I'm glad you were banished, because any man good enough to be mated to my brother needs to be better than that."

  Jefferson's brow furrowed. "Sir?"

  "Does he know?" I gestured to the sleeping man in the bed. "Have you told him you're his mate?"

  "I heard every word." Harry smiled as he turned to look at us, obviously awake. "Just means I don't have to stop perving on the sexy butler."

  "You've been...perving on me, sir?" There was so much hope in that voice.

  Okay, that was my cue to get out of there.

  "Are you feeling okay, Harry?" I asked. "Do you need anything?"

  Harry never looked away from Jefferson as he shook his head. "I think I'm good."

  "Don't overdo it until you've shifted and are all healed." I got no response. "Harry?"

  Harry just stared up at Jefferson.

  "Jefferson!"

  Jefferson stiffened before slowly looking at me. "Yes, sir?"

  "Don't let Harry overdo it. He needs to get all the rest he can before he can shift."

  Jefferson swallowed tightly. "Yes, sir. I'll keep an eye on him."

  I snorted. I doubted Jefferson would let Harry out of his sight, not now that they had something serious to talk about.

  As I turned to leave, I saw Jefferson take the hand Harry held out to him. I smiled as I walked out and shut the door behind me. I knew Harry had always had a thing for Jefferson, and now I knew why.

  Hopefully, the two of them would be able to talk things out and come to some sort of agreement on where their future would go.

  God knew I wasn't doing so hot.

  I started down the stairs.

  The front door slamming open down on the first floor made me gasp. That gasp turned into a cry of protest when I saw Bear and another man carrying Gunner into the main room. I raced down the remaining stairs and across the room to them.

  "What happened?"

  "Gunner got shot," Bear said.

  "Shot?"

  Chapter Seventeen

  ~ Henry ~

  For a moment, I was frozen, paralyzed in place. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I couldn't even breathe. And then my medical mind kicked in. I hurried over to one of the tables and swept everything off of it. "Here, lay him down here."

  While the men worked on getting Gunner laid out on the table, I turned to Butch. "Do you have any type of first aid kit? Some alcohol, some tweezers or a knife, and towels. I need lots of towels. Oh, and some hot water."

  While Butch snapped out orders, I ran to Gunner's side to assess the damage. He'd been shot in the upper chest, which meant it had missed his stomach bowels, and that was good. But his lungs could have been nicked or his heart.

  The possibilities were endless.

  "Someone get me some scissors," I called out.

  "You can't destroy his cut, man. Gunner would be pissed."

  I spared a brief glance toward the man who'd spoken. He was covered in tattoos and a leather vest that looked a lot like Gunner's. "This vest is coming off. If you want to keep it in one piece, I suggest you help me get it off of Gunner."

  The guy reached over and lifted Gunner up. Between the two of us, we were able to get the vest down Gunner's thick arms and then off. Since he was already propped up, I went ahead and pulled his shirt up and off as well.

  Once the guy laid Gunner back down, I was able to get a better looked at what I was working with. The bullet hole was in Gunner's upper left chest close to his collarbone.

  "Does anyone know what kind of bullet hit him?"

  "Whoever shot him was too far away."

  I glanced up. "He was shot from a distance?"

  The guy nodded.

  That wasn't good.

  "I need you to lift him up again. I need to see if there was an exit wound." I'd forgotten to check when we'd been taking Gunner's vest and shirt off.

  I was really slipping.

  The guy who'd been helping me lifted Gunner up again. I quickly stepped around to where I could see his back. "There's no exit wound." Which meant the bullet was still inside. "I'll need to dig it out."

  "You need to do it before he heals, too," the guy said. "Shifters have accelerated healing. If you don't get that bullet out and fast, it ain't coming out."

  This could be a problem.

  "How accelerated?"

  "If the bullet had gone all the way through, and it missed all of Gunner's vital organs, then he'd be almost totally healed and back on his feet within forty-eight hours."

  My jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"

  That was insane.

  "Yeah, so get to work, Doc."

  I turned to ask Butch if he'd found the items I wanted only to find him standing next to me, everything in his hands except a bowl of water, and someone stood behind him with that.

  I grabbed the first aid kit, opened it, and then started going through it to see what I was working with. It wasn't much, but I guess if you could heal at such a phenomenal rate, you wouldn't need much.

  I took what I needed and then grabbed one of the towels Butch held. I wiped away the blood covering Gunner's chest and grimaced. "This was a .338 Lapua."

  "How do you know that?" Butch asked.

  I held the bloody towel out to Butch. "I need you to get a clean one and wipe away the blood when I tell you." I gestured to the other side of the table. "It might be easier if you stood over there or at the head of the table, and I could use some more light.”

  Butch took the towel and tossed it to the floor then held up a clean one. He barked out some orders as he moved to the head of the table. Before I knew it, there were several lights shining down on Gunner.

  "So, you were saying, Doc? About the bullet?"

  "Well, I've seen enough bullet wounds in my time to know the kind of damage what each bullets make. This was a high powered rifle shot using a .338 Lapua bullet. If you were right and the shooter was far away, I'd look to the tops of some of the buildings at about five hundred yards from where Gunner was shot."

  As I talked, I used the instruments from the first aid kit to start digging into Gunner's chest for the bullet. Luckily, it didn't seem as if the bullet had gone in all that deep. I was able to find it in a matter of minutes. I just couldn't seem to get a good enough grip on it to pull it out.

  "Were you able to find any tweezers?"

  "No, sorry, Doc. We don't have anything like that."

  I frowned as I considered what else I could use. "What about tongs? Like kitchen tongs?"

  "Rooster," Butch called out, "you got any tongs back there?"

  "I've got some ice tongs," the inked guy called out.

  "Get them for me, Ink," Butch said. "But wash them with alcohol first." He glanced at me. "That will sterilize the tongs, won't it?"

  "It'll do for now, but rubbing alcohol would be better."

  "Yeah, I don't think we have that."

  "I'll see about getting you an upgraded medical kit." They really needed one for emergencies like this, especially if I was going to stick around. Unlike bear shifters, I couldn't heal in forty-eight hours.

  Butch handed me a set of silv
er bar tongs. They weren't what I would have liked to have used, but they were all I had at the moment. I grimaced as I started digging again, this time using the tongs.

  "Yes!" I shouted when I got a good hold of the bullet and pulled it out. I dropped it into the hand Butch held out to me. "You need to give this back to the asshole who gave it to Gunner."

  It was bloodthirsty, but I was pissed that someone had shot Gunner. They hadn't even had the decency—if there was decency in a violent act—to attack him face to face where he might have had a chance to defend himself. Instead, they had shot him from several hundred yards away.

  They deserved what they got as far as I was concerned.

  Butch arched an eyebrow at me. "I'll see that it's done personally."

  "I'd appreciate it."

  "Do you have a needle and some thread?" I asked. "I need to sew this up. Even with your accelerated healing, this wound still needs to be closed or Gunner is going to lose too much blood, and then it won't matter how fast his healing is."

  "I think I have something in my desk." Butch set down the towels he'd been holding and hurried into his office. He was back a few moments later with a small container, which he handed off to me.

  When I opened it, I found a package of needles and several different colors of thread. I smiled as I picked out the pink thread. "I think this one will do nicely."

  Butch snorted.

  I didn't realize so many other men were standing around us until they started to laugh.

  I shrugged. "Maybe he'll remember to duck next time."

  It took less time to sew Gunner up than it did to dig out the bullet. Once the wound was closed, I cleaned it off with some alcohol and the bandaged it the best I could.

  I really needed to get them a better medical kit.

  Once I was done, I glanced at Butch. "He needs to lie down. Is there somewhere he can rest?"

  "Gunner has a room upstairs," Butch said. "We all do."

  "Can a couple of your men carry him up there?" I held up my bloody hands. "And is there somewhere I can wash up?"

  "Gunner has a bathroom in his room. You can wash up there."

  "That would be great." I was not thrilled with the amount of Gunner's blood I had on my hands. I would have preferred never to have blood on my hands, especially Gunner's, but he'd lost a lot and I worried he'd need an infusion.

  I also needed somewhere private to fall apart because I could feel it coming. My gut was one big knot and tears were starting to well up in my eyes. My chest felt heavy.

  I wasn't usually one for emotional theatrics, but this was Gunner. If what Butch said was true, this man was supposed to be my forever. He couldn't very well do that if he died from a gunshot wound.

  As soon as he woke up and I knew he was going to make a full recovery, I was going to smack the bastard for scaring me so badly.

  I followed Butch and a couple of others guys as they carried Gunner up the stairs and down the corridor to one of the bedrooms. I was a bit concerned that Gunner hadn't woken up yet, but also grateful he hadn't. He'd be in a lot of pain.

  I felt helpless as I stood at the bottom of the bed and watched as Gunner was laid in it. He was a big man, far too big for me to do it, even if I wanted to. As soon as Butch stepped back, I hurried over and checked the bandages.

  Everything looked good and there hadn't been anymore bleeding. I grabbed the blanket from the end of the bed and started to pull it up to cover Gunner when I realized he still had his boots on.

  I dropped the blanket and walked to the end of the bed and pulled them off. I set them side by side at the bottom of the bed and then walked up and spread the blanket out over Gunner like I had intended.

  "It's normal for bears to sleep after an injury," Butch said. "Right now, Gunner's body is using all its energy to heal."

  I blew out a small relieved breath. "That's good to know."

  At some point, I was going to pick Butch's brain for everything he knew about bear physiology. The more I knew, the better I could treat their injuries.

  I sucked in a breath as I realized I was sticking around. No matter what happened between me and Gunner, this was my life now. My father and my brother were shifters. My father's friends were shifter. Gunner was a shifter.

  My life was going to involve shifters.

  Damn.

  Chapter Eighteen

  ~ Gunner ~

  The first thing I noticed when awareness came back to me was a dull ache in my chest. It wasn't overpowering, but it definitely let me know I had done something stupid. It took me a moment to remember that I'd been shot. It took me another pulse pounding moment to realize I was safe back in my own bedroom.

  It took me less than a breath to realize that the warmth pressed up against my side was my mate. I had no idea why Henry was in bed with me, but I wasn't about to wake him up and ask him to leave.

  I scooted over just enough that I could roll onto my side and look down at him. He looked tired. There were light circles under his eyes and a tight pull at the corner of his lips.

  I gently brushed a finger along his cheek, wishing I could do more. Having Henry in bed with me made sense. He was a doctor and I had been injured. He'd want to stay close to keep an eye on me, although, I wasn't sure that explained why he was in bed with me.

  I wished he was there for another reason.

  "Try not to wake him if you can help it. He's been up all day and half the night."

  I glanced over my shoulder to find Butch leaning against the doorframe, his hands shoved into his pockets. "What time is it?" I asked in a low tone.

  "It's about three o'clock in the morning. Henry's been up with you since you were brought in with a bullet hole in your chest. He just fell asleep about an hour ago."

  "Did you catch whoever shot me?"

  "No." Butch dug something out of his pocket and then held it up between his finger and thumb. "But Henry asked me to give this back to whoever shot you."

  I squinted to try and get a better look at the tiny object. "Is that a bullet?"

  "According to Henry, it's a .338 Lapua shot through a high power rifle at probably five hundred yards." Butch shrugged as he put the bullet back into his pocket. "Apparently, in his line of work, he's learned to figure out what kind of damage certain bullets can do."

  Damn.

  "If you plan to keep your balls attached to your body, I'd suggest you don't get shot again." Butch pointed to Henry. "That man is not fun when someone is hurt and he knows how to use a scalpel."

  "I'll take that into consideration."

  "Try and get some more rest if you can. You still have a bit of healing to do. Bear has doubled the guard for the night so we should be safe until morning."

  "I will."

  "Okay, see you in the morning."

  "Oh, hey," I called out when Butch turned to leave, "How's Harry?"

  Butch smiled as he glanced over his shoulder. "He's sleeping right now, but he's good. I figure he'll be ready to shift come morning. The drugs are almost all the way out of his system, although I think having Jefferson at his side has been the best treatment he could have. I'm pretty sure they will be claiming each other here soon." Butch gestured to Henry again. "You might want to think about that yourself."

  Butch stepped out of the room and shut the door before I could reply, or protest, or whatever I might have done. The ache in my chest when I glanced down at Henry again didn't come from my wound.

  I couldn't think of anything I wanted more than to claim Henry. I just didn't think it was going to happen. It was clear to me that this whole shifter thing wasn't something he was going to easily accept.

  It wasn't like I could suddenly not be a bear shifter. I wouldn't even want to if I could. I loved everything about being a shifter. The enhanced vision, scent, hearing, and strength...all of it was something I gloried in.

  I could no more stop being a shifter than Henry could stop being gorgeous. It just wasn't possible, and that brought me to where I was. Desperatel
y wanting someone who would never want me, at least, not all of me.

  This might be my one regret at being a shifter. If I'd been a normal man, a human, Henry might have wanted me. But I wasn't, and that meant...

  My breath caught when Henry's eyelids began to flicker and then lifted.

  I didn't understand the smile that crossed his lips.

  "Hey, how are you feeling?"

  "I'm good," I replied, even if it was only partly the truth. "My chest aches a little, but it's nothing I can't handle."

  "Why don't you lay back and let me take a look?"

  I had no idea why I rolled onto my back. I should be telling Henry to leave, for my sake and his. But, no, my stupid self was stuck on dumb. All I could think about was Henry touching me and wanting to see another one of those smiles.

  I shivered as Henry's hands moved over my skin. Henry paused for the briefest of moments. I probably wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't been watching him so intently.

  Hope came to live in my chest.

  "I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away, but there just wasn't time."

  Henry's blue eyes flickered to mine.

  "I'd planned on telling you just as soon as I could. I hope you know that."

  "I don't know that, but I appreciate you saying it." Henry stared down at my chest as he sat back. "Your rate of healing is amazing. I've never seen anything like it."

  "You've probably never worked on a shifter before."

  "No, but it would be fascinating." Henry glanced up until our eyes met. "You do realize that I'm going to pick your brain at some point, don't you? I've already considered talking to Butch. If I'm going to be sticking around, I want to know everything."

  My breath caught painfully in my throat. "You're going to be sticking around?"

  "I'm considering it."

  I had no idea what that meant.

  "My father is here, Harry is here, and you're here." Henry shrugged. "I guess I am, too."

  "Henry—"

  "There's parts of this I don't understand, and it might take me a little while to figure them all out, but there's one thing I have no problem understanding, and that's the fact that I want you."

 

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