“I don't know why I cry. I don't, I don't, I don't. I don't know why I used to love you. I don't, I don't, I don't. I don't know why I cry. I don't, I don't, I don't. I don't know why I used to love you. I don't, I don't, I don't.” And then I cried until I fell into a deep sleep for the first time in five days.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Gunner
Emma.
Another week of voicemail. The first week was on me. Mass Mayhem hit a transport, burning an entire shipment. To make it right, we had to pay for that one and another to keep the peace with the suppliers. Shit was crazy, but it finally slowed down. I was able to get back into town just in time for a party at the clubhouse and if I was being honest most of it was a blur. I got shit-ass drunk. I remembered talking to Tommy and some gnash trying to make the move on me, but that’s it.
But two weeks of not talking to Emma was starting to get to me. I needed to hear her voice. I needed to know that she was still with me. I knew the distance would be hard, but I took each day here like I did in the Army when I was on a mission. Shut everything else out, keep it compartmentalized, but I was having trouble keeping it together. I lashed out at brothers. I yelled at T-Bone. I was losing my shit.
Where was Emma? I lay in my bed wanting to sleep, but only thought of her. Jerking off ceased to work. I just needed her. This was the worst timing, but I would have to ride up there. Maybe I could swing it this weekend.
I answered my phone on the first ring, praying it was her. “Hello?”
“Gun.” Knox’s voice took me by surprise. I sat up in bed and threw my legs over the edge.
“Is everything okay?” Knox and I were tight, but we rarely talked on the phone. We usually shot a text now and again. Wesson was the only one that called.
“What happened last weekend?” His question caught me further off guard. I stood up.
“What do you mean?”
“With Emma?” I was pacing now.
“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to her in almost two weeks. It’s driving me fucking insane.”
“Was there a party?” What?
“Yeah, why?”
“Were you there?” His questions had my heart racing.
“Yes. What the fuck is this?” I needed answers, not more questions from Knox.
“FUCK! How could you man?” Then the line went dead.
“WHAT. THE. FUCK?” I bellowed. I stepped into my shoes and was out the door. I dialed Emma’s number and it immediately went to voicemail. Shit! Next I dialed Knox’s again with the same result. I looked up and found that I was at the bar.
Behind it was Bain and The Dream, both guys I prospected with. I got a head nod from Bain and “hey,” from The Dream. Suggie was at the bar in his usual stool against the wall.
“Do you know if a woman by the name of Emma was here on Saturday?” Both shook their heads. “She was beautiful. I mean drop dead gorgeous. Long, dark hair. Probably long curls. Big, brown, expressive eyes. Most likely dressed like nothing you have ever seen.”
“Yes.” I looked to The Dream.
“What?”
“She was here,” he confirmed.
“What the fuck do you mean she was here?” These two and Fish were the only ones I told about Emma. “Why didn’t you come get me?”
“She didn’t tell me her name. I swear to God. She asked for you, but I didn’t put two and two together. I had no idea what she looked like. I took her into the back, because you were in there with Fox watching a game. But when I got there with her you were gone and Fox was fucking some chick.”
“And?” I was practically leaning over the bar waiting for Tommy to finish. He looked like he just saw a ghost. “Fucking finish Tommy!”
“He asked her if she wanted to join. It looked like the question literally crushed her. She turned and ran out. I tried to follow her, but she got through the crowd and out the door. By the time I was in the parking lot, she was backing up and then sped off.”
“I am going to fucking kill Travis!”
“Wait brother,” called Bain as I headed down the hallway where our rooms were. I pounded on Travis’ door, practically knocking it off its hinges.
“About time.” His smirk met my fist as he opened the door. And then it was on. Blow for blow we went at each other. After several exchanges I charged him knocking him into his bed and then onto the floor where I slammed my fist into his face repeatedly. It was when I heard T-Bone yelling that I felt hands on my arms as I was pulled off Travis.
“How could you mother fucker?” I screamed.
“You fucking deserve it, asshole.” His last few words garbled.
“You are my brother. Not just in the club, but my blood. How could you do this? How did you even know?” I was now pinned against the wall by Fish and Gearbox.
“It’s the only number in your speed dial. She’s the only picture in your photos. One of her sleeping and the other of her laughing.”
“How the fuck do you know that?”
“You left it on the bar one night. I looked through it before you came back for it. You need to make your password a little bit harder to figure out. Your birthday is not that original.”
“She a fucking nice piece of ass brother.” I fought against my restraints to no avail. “I figured what was the harm in trying to tag it too.” My frustration came out in a thundering roar as I tried once again to get free.
“I fucking hate you,” I yelled.
“Ditto brother,” he screamed back. “If you don’t want to be here why did you come back? Go back to Camden City and patch the fuck over.”
“ENOUGH.” It was the first words T-Bone spoke since getting us separated.
“Fox, clean up your room. Gunner, my office now.” With that, he turned and left us all standing there.
I took one long last look at my brother. Then I saw it - the similarities between us. We both took after GF and T-Bone with their wide shoulders and a tall frame. But it was the face. For the longest time when we were younger people would always say we were stepping stones, but now we were grown and I never thought about it until today. In a dark room it would be easy to mistake us, especially if Emma was focused on the girl or on really not looking based on what they were doing. And he knew her name. Aww shit. And what he said to her.
Emma.
Poor Emma.
What she must be going through, especially after her life with Tru.
FUCK!
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Gunner
T-Bone drummed the gavel, quieting the brothers that gathered for church. My heart hammered thinking of the possibility of getting out of here. He promised a vote to fix this. I was up all night convincing myself that I needed to stay for this vote. I needed to stay for Emma.
Emma.
She was always on my mind, but now it was in overdrive after my blow up with Travis. Not a single Reaper would answer my call in Camden City. I was trapped in a doghouse of my own making. The distrust. The hatred. The ever-building storm between my brother and me finally exploded in a lightning of lives and a thundering of fists. I looked across the table at Travis wearing the ever-present sneer as he stared back at me.
I never understood how much he hated me until last night when his actions cut me so deep I might never recover. Emma and I might never recover. My leg bounced at a nervous pace under the table. I wanted this vote to be over so I could get to Camden City and start putting out the fires I knew were burning down everything I had built.
“Brothers, today I call you together to discuss a very serious matter. Many of you have probably heard about the brother on brother violence that happened last night. Words cannot express my sorrow at witnessing such actions. We have always held a strict policy that issues be resolved around this table. Not with fists, but with words. Now as I look around this table of twelve, I wonder why this violence was not stopped sooner. Why it lasted as long as it did? Why our Enforcer was bloodied and bruised; yet no one stepped in to help . . . hell, to sto
p the unnecessary actions of your VP. I would like nothing more than to take the VP outback and inflict the same treatment upon him as he did upon his brother. But that is not the way it works here.” My legs stopped bouncing as I looked to T-Bone. This monologue was going in a completely different direction that we had discussed last night. What was he getting at?
“It seems to be that our VP is no longer loyal to the cause.” What? He was calling my loyalty into question, when I was nothing but steadfast to this fucking club and all of its dirty dealings. “He appears to have divided interests. His first priority, his duty, seems to have strayed to Camden City. So, instead of beating him into submission as he tried with Fox, we will vote about what to do with him.” Vote? About what to do with me?
“Wait, a second,” I said, drawing all eyes to me. “My duty. My loyalty has always been this club. I have placed this club first since I joined it.”
“You have?” questioned Travis. “That is why you went nomad. Why you left when we could have used you most? When we needed your gun? That is what you call loyalty?”
“Enough,” T-Bone roared. “Fox, I am sick and tired of the competition between the two of you that only exists in your mind. And Gunner, I am beyond exhausted of your divided loyalties.” I stared in astonishment at what T-Bone was saying. Were my loyalties really split? I left Emma time and again to fulfill my responsibility to the club leaving us both wanting, but it appeared as though I had done the same to the club.
“So what do you suggest?” I asked.
“I have discussed with all the longest standing brothers.” All of which were his friends and his biggest supporters. “We have three options. The vote must be unanimous.” I nodded, knowing one would have to be to leave the chapter. “One, you are voted out of the club. You get stripped of your cut and your Reaper and you move on far from here. You leave everything behind, including Tru’s old lady.” I was in shock. My mouth went dry, as my pulse skyrocketed. A chill traveled down my back as my palms began to sweat. Out of the club? Move on without Emma? How could that be something I could ever live with? I looked around the table as a few brothers nodded in agreement. FUCK!
“Option two, you get with the program and give it your all. No more trips to Camden City. You make Emma an old lady and get her fine ass down here. You make her get with the program.” Emma would never accept this life. Her boys and their future were too important. It would never work. I shook my head in disbelief. Where was the understanding man of last night who told me about a similar talk he had with GF?
“And three?” The Dream asked for me. I looked up and into the eyes of T-Bone as he answered.
“You meet the Reaper himself.”
Emma
My music selection had moved from sad to angry. I was on to “You Oughta Know,” by Alanis Morissette and “Hate (I really don’t like you)” by Plain White T’s. It was helping. I was able to get up in the morning and go to work. I was able to pick the boys up and get them fed. Amber finally went back to Dallas when I showed I could handle myself. Most nights Jack or Jim or John accompanied me to bed. I picked a song and put it on repeat and took a shot at the start until I finally fell asleep from exhaustion from crying or passed out drunk.
It was not the healthiest of lifestyles, but I was getting by. It had been two weeks since seeing Gunner. What was the saddest of all and made me beyond angry with myself was the fact that I wanted him to call. I wanted him to be sorry. I wanted him to come begging for my forgiveness, but he never showed up. He never called. He just left. And that was what hurt the most.
But today was going to be different. The girls were taking me out, so I could get drunk in public and it would be deemed as socially acceptable. Amen to small favors!
Dylan came over early to help me get ready, which I was grateful for. I really wasn’t up for going out, but I needed out of my house.
“You lost more weight,” Dylan observed as she sat on the bed and I got dressed.
“Not on purpose.” Before she could start talking, I added, “Please don’t lecture. Not tonight. You can tomorrow,” I joked, earning a laugh from Dylan.
“Ok. But it will happen tomorrow.”
“Got it.”
Logan and Campbell picked us up and drove us to Kilroy’s. Logan no longer worked there, but we came occasionally as most of the brothers still frequented the place.
“The brothers going to be there tonight?” I asked, hoping the answer was no.
“They have church tonight and then I know Colt and Tank are heading over,” answered Logan. After pulling into the parking lot, we made our way to the side door.
“Why wait in line?” Campbell laughed as we went in through the kitchen. Logan blew kisses and waved to the staff as we made our way out to the bar.
The place was pretty packed and the music was actually recognizable, which gave me hope that tonight might actually be fun.
“Let’s get a table,” Dylan said as she led us over to a high top.
“I’ll get a waitress.” Logan said then disappeared into the crowd as we all took a seat.
“How’s work?” Campbell asked, trying for small talk.
“It’s busy. I like the day shift. It works with the boys.” Campbell nodded her head in agreement. Before anyone could ask any more lame questions, Logan showed up with three beers and a waitress.
“I figured these would get us started.” Grabbing the bottle, I did not waste any time putting it to my lips. Half the bottle was gone by the time I came up for air to find everyone staring at me.
I shrugged my shoulders and said, “Three shots of whiskey, a bucket of beers, and a water for preggo.” I pointed to Dylan.
“Ok,” the waitress chirped.
“OH my God. I love this song,” Campbell shrieked. “Let’s dance.” Not waiting for an answer she pulled me onto the dance floor with Fall Out Boy’s “Uma Thurman” blaring from the speakers.
Campbell immediately started dancing like Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction. A genuine laugh escaped me as I watched her. “About time,” said Cam as she grabbed my hands and we started to dance. “I missed your smile.”
“It felt good,” I admitted.
“Awesome. Let’s have a great night.” And we did. We drank and danced. Colt and Tank eventually joined us, but they kept their distance allowing us to have fun. It was even better, because no men approached us knowing the Reapers were eyeing our table.
After a couple hours of too much to drink I was on the dance floor with Logan when a pretty good-looking guy started to dance with us. Before I even knew what was happening Colt had Logan in his arms and I was left with the handsome stranger.
“I can’t feel my face when I’m with you,” I sang off tune as the stranger got closer and closer. “Yes I know,” I said shaking my finger in the air. I repeated the words, and the stranger came even closer that our bodies were touching.
“You sing great.” He was going for sexy, but failed miserably.
“Yeah right,” I argued. “I am a terrible singer and I’m drunk which makes it even worst.”
“Worst, huh?”
“Yep. The worst.”
“I’m Gary.” The stranger introduced himself.
“I’m drunk.”
“Yes. You already told me that. What about your name?”
“I can’t feel my face when I’m with you,” I sang ignoring his question.
“Then I am definitely doing something wrong.” His hands on my hips pulled me all the way against him. I looped my arms around his neck trying to keep my balance as he continued to move against me.
“What are you doing after this?” I went to answer, but Gunner beat me to it.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Gunner
“Coming home with me,” I answered the fucking prick that was touching Emma. “What about you?”
“Nooooo,” Emma yelled as she whipped around to face me. “NOOOO. Go away. I don’t want you here. Leave.”
“No.” It was even wors
e than I ever thought possible. Fury shone bright in her eyes as she stared me down.
“I saw you!” Her voice got louder with each word. I reached for her, but she stepped back avoiding me and bumping into her dance partner. “Leave me the fuck alone.”
“Emma.” The tone I used had prospects shitting their pants, but she just laughed in my face.
“Like you have any say,” she laughed. “I am no longer a plaything for ANY. REAPER. BROTHER.” My head dropped in shame that I was even remotely responsible for her feeling like this. I rubbed my temples, praying for the first time in forever when Emma tried to walk past me.
“We’re leaving.” Her slightly slurred speech told me she had too much to drink. She was angry and hurt and was about to do something very stupid.
“Not with him,” I said as I grabbed her arm.
“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me,” she gritted. We were so close, nose-to-nose as we squared off against each other. I still had my hand wrapped around her arm.
“Don’t do this cher.” At the last word, tears welled in her eyes but did not fall.
“Don’t call me that. I’m just Emma to you.”
“No. You’re wrong. You’re my cher.”
“But you’re not mine.” The words knocked the wind out of me as she pulled her arm free. Her dance partner took her hand in his, pulling her through the crowd that had now gathered around us. True terror took hold as I watched her leaving with another man. Images of her being loved, touched, held by someone else filled my mind. My fingers ran through my hair before I gripped the roots and pulled hard. I was fucking losing her.
“Gunner.” Knox’s voice snapped me out of my own personal hell. Knox chucked the keys and I grabbed them midair as I took off running after them. I caught up to them as they were walking out the door. I could hear Emma saying she wanted to go back to her friends, but the guy kept giving her reasons to stay with him. When I saw her try to pull free and he jerked her to him, I lost it.
Emma's Reaper: Soul Reapers #4 Page 7
