Rider: Satan’s Fury MC-Memphis

by Wilder, L.

  As soon as we were settled, Gunner leaned over to us and said, “I’ve seen that guilty look before.”

  “What guilty look?” Darcy asked feigning innocence.

  “The guilty look you two were sporting when you came up in here late.”

  “We didn’t have a guilty look,” Darcy argued. “We were just a little frazzled from being caught up in traffic. That’s all.”

  “Um-hmm. If you say so.” Gunner smiled as he looked over to August and said, “See, I told you we wouldn’t be the last ones here, and from the looks of it, they were up to the same thing we were.”

  August shook her head and sighed. “And now everybody knows why we were late, including my father.”

  All eyes darted over to Gus, and none of us were surprised to find him staring at Gunner with his eyebrow cocked and his arms crossed. Knowing there was nothing he could say in his defense, Gunner tried to divert the blame. “Not my fault. I was an innocent victim.”

  “Oh, please.” August sighed. “Just stop while you’re ahead.”

  Before he could bury himself any deeper, Blaze walked into the room with his daughter nestled in the crook of his arm. Kevin was standing proudly at his side as he announced, “Our Willow Grace is finally here!”

  We all gathered around, congratulating him as we each took a peek at the newest addition to the family. As I stood there watching Blaze with his daughter, I couldn’t help but smile. It was good to see him so happy. After all he’d been through, I didn’t know a man on the planet who deserved it more. Knowing that Blaze and Willow needed to get back upstairs to Kenadee, the brothers and I said our goodbyes, and after promising to return soon, we each headed home. As Darcy and I walked out of the hospital, I thought back to the moment when Blaze first walked into the waiting room with Willow. Even though he was bragging that she twenty-one inches long and weighed eight pounds, six ounces, I couldn’t get over how tiny she was. I glanced over at Darcy, and I couldn’t help but wonder about the kids we’d have one day—a daughter with her thick auburn hair and a son with my crooked smile. I was lost in my thoughts when Darcy slipped her arm through mine and asked, “What are you smiling about over there?”

  “Just thinking.”

  “About?” she pushed.

  “Hmmm...About the house full of kids we’re going to have one day.”

  “House full?” she gasped. “Seriously?”

  “One, two...four or five.” I reached for her and pulled her close. “I don’t care.”

  “Okay. I can work with that.” She wound her arms around my neck as she said, “Thank you.”

  “For?”

  “Loving me the way you do.” Emotion filled her eyes. “Until you, I’d never really known what it’s like to truly be loved.”

  “Loving you is easy, Darcy.”

  “I don’t know about that, but I do know you make me very happy.”

  “Well, get ready, baby, cause I’m just getting started.”

  The End

  Thanks so much for reading!

  If you haven’t had a chance to check out Gunner: Satan’s Fury MC- Memphis, there is a short excerpt after the acknowledgments.

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  Acknowledgments

  I am blessed to have so many wonderful people who are willing to give their time and effort to making my books the best they can be. Without them, I wouldn’t be able to breathe life into my characters and share their stories with you. To the people I’ve listed below and so many others, I want to say thank you for taking this journey with me. Your support means the world to me, and I truly mean it when I say appreciate everything you do. I love you all!

  PA: Natalie Weston

  Editing/Proofing: Lisa Cullinan-editor, Rose Holub-Proofer, Honey Palomino-Proofer

  Promoting: Amy Jones, Veronica Ines Garcia, Neringa Neringiukas, Whynter M. Raven

  BETAS/Early Readers: Kaci Stewart, Tanya Skaggs, Jo Lynn, and Jessey Elliott

  Street Team: All the wonderful members of Wilder’s Women (You rock!)

  Best Friend and biggest supporter: My mother (Love you to the moon and back.)

  A short excerpt of Gunner: Satan’s Fury MC-Memphis Book 5 is included in the following pages. Blaze, Shadow, Riggs, Murphy and Gus are also included in this Memphis series, and you can find them all on Amazon. They are all free with KU.

  Excerpt from Gunner: Satan’s Fury MC- Memphis

  Her Goodbye

  August 19, 1994

  Gus,

  I’ve been lying here watching you sleep for hours, just thinking about the time we’ve shared together. This summer has been the best few months of my life. I can honestly say I’ve never been happier, and that’s all because of you. I love you, Gus. I love you with every fiber of my being. You mean so much to me, more than I thought possible. With you, I’ve learned how it feels to truly love and to be loved. That’s why this letter is so hard to write.

  I’ve done a lot of thinking over the past few weeks, and I’ve come to realize that it doesn’t matter how much I love you or you love me. It just isn’t enough. We’re from two different worlds, headed down two completely different paths, and if we stay together, we’re only going to end up destroying one another. I can’t bear for that to happen. I love you too much. It breaks my heart to say this to you, but I’m leaving Memphis. I am asking you to please respect my decision. Don’t try to find me. Don’t call me. Let me find a way to move on, and I will do the same for you. It’s the only way either of us will ever make it through this.

  This wasn’t an easy decision for me. In fact, it’s killing me to walk away from you, but deep down I know it’s the right thing to do. Please remember—I love you today, I loved you yesterday, and I will love you tomorrow and always. That will never change.

  Love,

  Samantha

  Prologue

  When I joined the Marines, I didn’t have any preconceived notions about being in the military and going to war. I’d seen and heard enough to know it wasn’t going to be easy—far from it. It was one of the hardest, but greatest, things I’d ever done. I worked my ass off, fought for my country, and learned just how far I could be pushed without breaking. But it came at a price. Every waking moment I’d wondered if my time was about to run out, if I’d seen my last sunset or had lain my head down on my pack for the very last time. Even if I’d managed to survive long enough to see the sunrise the next morning, there’d been little consolation in knowing I’d just have to go through that same hell all over again.

  I thought I’d find peace once I was finally back in the States with my family and friends and able to sleep in my own bed or walk down the street without feeling like I was under a constant threat—but I’d been wrong. I never realized just how wrong until a shotgun wound forced me to go home.

  * * *

  When I got off the plane, I found my mother waiting for me at the gate. As expected, she was alone and still wearing her green Food and More grocery smock. Her tired eyes filled with tears the second she spotted me walking in her direction. “Cade!” she called, rushing towards me with her arms opened wide.

  She was just about to reach for me when she suddenly stopped and looked down at my arm. After getting shot in the shoulder, I had to have reconstructive surgery, which meant wearing a sling for the next couple of months. “I’m okay, Mom.”

  She eased up on her tiptoes and carefully wrapped her arms around my neck, giving me one of her famous mom hugs. Damn. I was a grown man, and her hugs still got to me the same way they did when I was a kid. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you, sweetheart.”

  “Good to see you too.”

  “I’ve been worried sick about you. Your father has too.”

  “I know.” I gave her a quick squeeze, then said, “I’m sorry I worried you.�
�

  “I’m just glad you’re home where we can take care of you.” She gave me a little pat as she stepped back and smiled. “Have to fatten you up a bit.”

  I was six-four and weighed about two hundred and forty pounds. Before I was shot, I worked out every day and knew what condition I was in. I glanced down at myself and told her, “I’m not exactly skin and bones here, Mom.”

  “Well, you look like you’ve lost weight to me … and you’re a little peeked.”

  “Yeah, well … you’d look a little peeked too if you’d just spent the last sixteen hours on an airplane.” Before she could respond, I added, “Let me grab my bag, and then we can get out of here.”

  As she followed me over to the baggage claim area, she explained, “Your father wanted to come tonight, but you know how he is around crowds. We both figured it would be easier if he just waited at the house for us.”

  My father was a brilliant man. There wasn’t a mathematical problem he couldn’t figure out, which made him one of the best accountants in town. But he’d always been a little different. He wasn’t a fan of crowds or loud noises. He’d fixate on things from historical facts to the changes in weather, obsessing on every detail, and he wasn’t exactly big on showing affection—except for when he was with my mother. He’d always been different with her—touching her, holding her hand, and even hugging her. I’d always hoped that some of that would rub off on me, but it never did. “It’s fine, Mom. I wasn’t expecting him to be here.”

  “Well, he’s really looking forward to seeing you.”

  Even though I knew that wasn’t true, I replied, “I’m looking forward to seeing him too.”

  “Oh, and Brooklyn should be home by the time we get there.”

  As I lifted my duffle-bag off the conveyer belt, I asked, “She been making it okay?”

  “You know your sister … she’s always on the go.” Mom shrugged. “But I guess that’s a good thing. It keeps her out of trouble.”

  We headed outside to the parking garage, and once we got to Mom’s car, she popped the trunk and I tossed my bag inside. I slammed it shut and then we both got in the car and started home. We hadn’t been driving long when I heard her let out a deep sigh. I glanced over at her, and even in the dark, I could see the dark circles under her eyes. “Have you been working double shifts again?”

  “No … it’s just been a long week.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Let’s not talk about that right now,” she interrupted, then quickly changed the subject. “I’ve got your room all ready for you and got your rehab appointments all lined up. CJ and Dalton are planning to come by and see you once you get settled.”

  “That’d be cool.”

  It had been years since I’d seen my best friends from high school. We’d all gone our separate ways, so I was surprised when she said, “Did you know that CJ and his girlfriend, Adeline, are expecting?”

  “Hadn’t heard that.”

  “I don’t think it was something they were planning, but … you know how those things go.”

  Mom continued to ramble on about all the latest gossip in town until we pulled up in the driveway. As soon as she’d parked, I got out, grabbed my bag, and followed her up to the front door. She motioned for me to go inside as she said, “You get settled, and I’ll go start dinner. I’m making pork chops and mashed potatoes.”

  “Okay, sounds good.” When I walked into the living room, I found Dad sitting in his recliner with his TV tray in front of him. He was studying one of his patches through a magnifying glass, something I’d seen him do a thousand times before. It was a hobby that started when he was a kid. In hopes of helping him make friends, his folks had signed him up for the Boy Scouts. While their plan for him to make friends didn’t pan out, he did gain an interest in patches. That interest turned into an obsession—an obsession that carried over into his adulthood. He didn’t even look up when I walked over to him. “Hey, Pop. How’s it going?”

  “Good.”

  I swallowed back the feeling of rejection that was creeping up inside of me and tried once again to get his attention. “You get some new patches?”

  “Um-hmm.” Without turning to look at me, he held up the long, narrow patch and said, “It’s an Unteroffiziervorschule cuff title.”

  “I got no idea what that is, Pop.”

  Like he was reading straight from the encyclopedia, he spouted off, “Unteroffiziervorschule is German for NCO Preparatory School. The German military created the school to train lower ranks in leadership and initiative. Their students eventually became commissioned officers.”

  “Wow, that’s really something.”

  “Also found a set of World War II German rural police collar tabs.

  “Oh, really?” There was a time when it bothered me that my father showed me little to no attention, but as I grew older, I realized that it wasn’t his fault. My father had Asperger’s Syndrome. I had no choice but to accept the fact that he’d never be the kind of father I hoped he would be. “Are those good ones?”

  Like a child, he brought it close to his body, protecting it as he answered, “Yes. Very good.”

  “That’s great, Pop.” As I started towards my room, I told him, “I’m gonna go get settled in.” Without replying, he turned his attention back to his magnifying glass, and just like always, it was like I’d never been in the room.

  I went upstairs to my room and lay across the bed. As I stared up at my old Bon Jovi poster, I was surprised by how different it felt to be here. Everything was exactly the way I’d left it, but for some reason, everything in the whole fucking house seemed different. What had once felt like home was now completely foreign to me.

  Over the next few days that feeling had only grown stronger. When my buddies from high school had come by to see me, it was like they were complete strangers. After the first few minutes, the conversations became forced and awkward. I couldn’t even talk to my mother and sister. It was like I was stuck inside my head and couldn’t find the right words to say to anyone. I’d told myself it would pass, that things would get back to normal eventually, but they didn’t. With each new day, things only seemed to get be getting worse. Hell, even the shit with my father was fucking with my head. He’d never talked to me or showed that he gave a damn about me, and I’d adapted to that. I’d stopped hoping that things would change, but I could feel the resentment building inside of me, making me feel like I was going to explode at any minute. I just couldn’t take it. I needed to get the fuck out of that house and out of my head, or I was going to lose my mind. I grabbed my keys and headed downstairs. Just as I was about to walk out the front door, Mom called out to me, “Cade? Wait! Where are you going?”

  “I’m going out.”

  “Again?” Confusion crossed her face. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, Mom. I’m just—”

  She gave me one of her looks as she interrupted, “You’re just what, Cade?”

  “I can’t do this anymore. It’s just too much.”

  “What are you talking about? What’s too much?”

  “Everything. This house. This town.” I let out an aggravated breath as I grumbled, “Dad.”

  “I know it’s not easy coming home after all you’ve been through, but we love you, sweetheart. We like having you here with us.”

  “Why do you keep saying we?” I huffed. “Dad could care less if I’m alive or dead.”

  “That’s not true, Cade. Your father loves you.”

  I shook my head as I argued, “Yeah, right. He’s never once given me a second thought, and you damn well know it.”

  “Come with me. I want to show you something.” She walked into my dad’s office and over to the glass case where he kept his prized patches. As she opened the top latch, she explained, “A few days after you left for training, your father started a new collection.”

  I glanced down at the case and my chest tightened as soon as I saw it was lined with various Marine Corp patches, from
the seal and crest to old veteran patches. “There’s so many of them.”

  “I know, honey. He might not be good at showing it, but you’ve been on his mind every day.”

  I could feel the emotion building inside of me as I muttered, “I didn’t know.”

  “I know.” Mom had always understood my father in a way I never could. As far as I could tell, my father had never given me a second thought, but as she stood there staring down at those patches, she seemed to think otherwise. She slipped her arm around my back, doing her best to reassure me as she said, “That’s why I wanted you to see this.”

  It meant a lot to me to see those patches, to know that I’d crossed my father’s mind. That realization made me feel like the walls were closing in on me. I couldn’t breathe. I needed to get some air before I totally lost it. I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

  I rushed out of the house, got in my truck, and cranked the engine. There was only one place for me to escape the thoughts that were rushing through my head—Danver’s Pub. When I walked in, it looked exactly how it did five years ago. They were even playing the same damn songs on the jukebox, but I didn’t give a rat’s ass about the music or the décor. I needed a fucking drink. Hell, I needed a slew of them. I went over to the counter, placed my order for three shots of chilled vodka, and downed them one right after the other. I ordered three more, immediately knocking them down, and was about to order three more when a man came over and sat down next to me. I took a quick glance at him and an uneasy feeling washed over me when I saw that he was wearing a Satan’s Fury cut. Their MC was known for being a group of badasses who didn’t take shit from anyone, and from the looks of the patch he was sporting, this guy next to me was the biggest badass of them all. He was a big guy, maybe in his late forties, but he was fit and looked like he could hold his own and then some. He called the bartender over and said, “Bring us another round.”