GUNNER: Southside Skulls Motorcycle Club (Southside Skulls MC Romance Book 3)

by Jessie Cooke

  “He awake?” She was a crotchety old lady and Tamara didn’t want to like her, but she couldn’t deny that when Patty asked about Gunner or when she looked at Billy, her eyes softened and the rough edges went away.

  “He was for a second,” Tamara told her, “but he didn’t say anything.”

  “Shit. How the fuck long are we supposed to just sit here and wait?”

  As if in answer to her question, Tamara’s phone dinged. She reached for it and saw that it was a text from her brother. “Company coming. Can you throw on some eggs?”

  She rolled her eyes and sighed. She’d spent years convincing the other guys in the MC that she wasn’t one of the club girls ready to wait on them hand and foot, but when it came to her twin brother and her father and uncles, she was still the little woman. “Sure, would you like potatoes and bacon with that?” The tone in her head as she texted was sarcastic, but as usual, it went right over her twin brother’s head, or he chose to ignore it, which was more likely.

  “That’d be great!” Tamara snorted when she read his reply, tossed the phone on the counter, and told Billy and Patty,

  “It looks like we’re having company for breakfast.”

  “Can I go in and see Gunner?” Billy asked.

  “Of course. You might want to try opening the blinds and talking to him, or playing some music he likes, too.” Those were tricks they used in the hospital for patients in a coma. Gunner wasn’t really in a coma. He’d been awake. He was just unresponsive for some reason. She’d been doing a lot of research online and the best she could come up with was that his body had just shut down for a while to deal with the trauma, or he had brain damage; she wasn’t sure which. She watched Billy go into the room and then she turned to Patty and said, “How are your breakfast skills?”

  “Killer,” Patty said, flatly. For the next half hour the two women worked side by side without saying a word, and by the time Tamara’s front door flew open and her family filed in with their “guests,” they had it laid out on the table like a buffet and everything looked and smelled delicious.

  Tamara was engulfed by the beefy, hairy arms of her father before she knew what hit her. He’d been out of town for a few weeks and she hadn’t seen him. He squeezed her until she almost couldn’t breathe and then pointed her at a gorgeous clean-cut biker with long blond hair and eyes the same color as her patient in the other room. “This is my pride and joy, Tamara,” her father said. That was how he always introduced her.

  “Hi, Tamara.” The sexy biker put out his hand, and she gave it a light shake. “I’m Dax. Your dad tells me that you’re the one we have to thank for taking such good care of Gunner. I really appreciate you doing all of this.”

  She dropped the biker’s hand and as she looked at the patch on his chest that said “President” she said, “He should be in the hospital.”

  “Tamara…” her dad said in his “watch your tone” voice.

  Dax didn’t look offended. He nodded and smiled at her softly. “I’d like to see him, if that’s okay?”

  She nodded back at him and showed him to the bedroom. Billy jumped to his feet as soon as Dax walked in the room. Blue-Eyes was still asleep. Tamara closed the door and went back into the dining room, which was now crammed with big bodies filling their plates and raiding her refrigerator. Her twin brother was grabbing a biscuit off the table when he saw her. Tommy could be the world’s biggest asshole but he could also be the world’s best big brother. He put the biscuit and his plate down and went over to her. Without saying a word, he opened his arms and she pressed her face into the sergeant-at-arms patch he wore on his chest. He just held her, because after sharing a womb and twenty-four years of a somewhat chaotic childhood, he knew that was what she needed.

  11

  Gunner had been trying to wake up for what seemed like days. Each time he thought he was on the brink, he’d slip back into sleep and a parcel of the most bizarre dreams he’d ever had. He wasn’t sure where he was, or what happened to him. He knew enough to know that he wasn’t in jail, or in the hospital, but he wasn’t at home either. When he did manage to pull open his eyes he found himself looking into the face of an angel, and for a few seconds he would wonder if he had died. Then somewhere in his head there would be laughing. If he was dead, the place where beautiful angels go was not going to be where he would have ended up.

  Every part of his body hurt, especially his face. His mouth was as dry as a bone and it hurt to move it. His nose throbbed and his cheekbones felt like they’d been shattered and glued back together. His arms were sore and he could barely open and close his hands. His ribs ached and at one point he was afraid he’d been in an accident and lost his legs, because he couldn’t feel them at all. None of it made sense to him, and the last time he opened his eyes he’d been prepared to ask the angel what was happening to him. She’d been there looking at him. She’d even said something to him, but there was a ringing in his ears and he couldn’t make out her soft voice over the sound of it. He’d tried with all his might to form a sentence, or even a word, but just the act of trying wore him out. She had wet down his mouth and he had wanted to thank her so badly, but he just couldn’t find the strength. He drifted back off to sleep for a while and now he was awake again, listening to the sounds of soft music and whispered voices. Finally determined to try to talk to her, he opened his eyes. He was surprised when he didn’t see the angel. This time, looking down at him from the side of the bed was Billy…and Dax.

  “Hey, kid, are you awake?”

  Dax’s voice penetrated the buzzing sound, somewhat. Gunner couldn’t tell exactly what he was saying, but he knew it was a question. Gunner opened his mouth, but once again, nothing came out. It was too dry. His tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth. “Gunner, man, it’s Billy. How are you feeling?” If he could laugh, he would have. “It’s Billy,” like maybe he wouldn’t know.

  Gunner tried smacking his lips together. They felt like sandpaper. Dax picked up a plastic cup on the side of the bed. It had a straw in it and he held it close to Gunner’s lips. He tried to close them around it, but it hurt like a bitch. His tongue was still stuck to the roof of his mouth and it hurt to move that too. Dax took the straw out of the cup and poured the water into Gunner’s mouth. It felt so good but he didn’t have any control over it and as it slid down his throat he began to choke on it. Dax’s facial expression didn’t change as he watched him, but poor Billy looked like he might piss his pants. When Gunner finally stopped choking and got his breath back, he looked at the cup again. Dax smiled then and said, “Gotta give you props for determination, kid.” He put the straw back in the cup, and this time Gunner could get his lips around it just enough to suck in more of the cool liquid and send a searing pain through his face that landed in his forehead. “So,” Dax said as he pulled the cup away. “You awake now?”

  Gunner tried to clear his throat, but that just hurt, so he nodded slightly and that hurt even worse. He must have winced because Dax told Billy, “Will you go see if Tamara has something for him, for pain?”

  Billy left the room and as soon as he was gone Dax sat down in the chair next to the bed. “I’m sorry this happened to you, but from what I was told you did have the opportunity to get out of town before you got the shit kicked out of you.”

  Forming words was difficult because of the pain, and his head was still foggy. He couldn’t remember who it was that kicked the shit out of him or why Dax was involved. He put his lips together and as best as he could he said, “Where are we?”

  “In Medina,” Dax said. Medina was about fifteen miles outside of the small town where Gunner, Patty, and Billy lived. It was run by the Head Hunters and everyone in the county knew that unless you had business with them, you steered clear. The night they came to the bar and Gunner got in the fight with a couple of them had been his first real encounter with the club. “Do you remember what happened?”

  Before Gunner could manage forming another sentence or word, the door opened. B
illy reappeared at the side of the bed with the angel. God, she was pretty. She had shoulder-length brown hair with blonde highlights that ran through it and framed her face. Her eyes were brown, but so light they were almost gold. She didn’t have much make-up on from what Gunner could tell, but her skin was smooth and it looked soft and her plump lips were shaped like a heart. Even in pain, he wanted to kiss them.

  “Awake now?” she said. Gunner nodded, causing another shooting pain to assault his head. He watched curiously as she opened the drawer next to the bed and took out a syringe and glass vial. He wondered who she was. Is she a nurse, or a doctor? If so, why was she giving him medicine in a bedroom and not in a hospital? She filled the syringe with what was in the vial and then screwed the syringe into a port attached to the tubing that came out of his arm. As soon as she started pushing it in, he was filled with a warm, calm feeling and he felt like he was floating. The pain began to go away almost at once.

  “Thank you,” he said. He thought she might have smiled at him, but he could have imagined it as well. He was sucked back down into another dream, and the angel had a starring role.

  The next time Gunner woke up Billy was the only one in the room. He smacked his lips and Billy had his cup and straw ready. He took a long sip of the water and when his mouth was moist enough he said, “Where are we?”

  Billy smiled and shook his head. “Medina, at the house of the daughter of the VP of the Head Hunters.”

  “Fuck, how did that happen?”

  Billy sat in the chair next to the bed. “How much do you remember?”

  “It’s all kind of fuzzy. I remember having a fight and Eddie Martini was there.”

  “Yeah, he set it up so you’d beat Red Crow. The Indian was supposed to take a dive. You were the underdog; most of the guys that showed up weren’t in on it and they bet against you. Eddie and his guys put down a ton of money on you to win. They were set to make a lot more in return.”

  It was beginning to come back and Gunner said, “I wasn’t going to win that fight.”

  “Right, you suddenly had principles.”

  Gunner smiled and then winced. It hurt. “Fuck that. I just had to show those bastards they couldn’t own me. I remember now. I asked you to call Dax.”

  “Yeah, and I did. He made a call, and before I knew it there was a gunfight going on between the Head Hunters and Eddie’s boys.”

  “Damn, a gunfight over me? I’m impressed with myself.”

  Billy rolled his eyes. “Don’t be—they were fighting over the money. You were right about Kinley’s idea of security being shit.”

  “So, did the Head Hunters end up with the money?”

  “When the shooting started we got the hell out of there. I don’t know who ended up with it and honestly don’t care.”

  “Was Dax pissed at me?”

  Billy shrugged. “I have no idea what that guy is thinking; he never changes his facial expression or his tone of voice.” Gunner chuckled and Billy went on to say, “It’s crazy how much you look like him.” The door opened again and the two men stopped talking about Dax. The bedroom wasn’t big, and when Dax stepped into it he seemed to fill it up and suck out all the air. Gunner was in awe of him. “I’m gonna go get something to eat,” Billy said. He got up and slipped past Dax…and Cody—Gunner hadn’t noticed him at first.

  “How are you feeling, kid?”

  “I’m doing okay,” Gunner said.

  “You look like shit,” Cody said.

  Chuckling, Gunner said, “Thanks. It’s nice to see you again, Cody.” Cody looked like he would rather be anywhere but there, but he didn’t say so. He sat down in the window seat and Dax said:

  “How did you know the Head Hunters would be willing to help?”

  “I didn’t know for sure, but that night at the bar when those two saw me wearing the vest, they were just as pissed as if I’d been wearing theirs. I assumed that meant they had some kind of loyalty to you…to your club. I’m sorry, I walked back into a mess when I got back from Massachusetts and I didn’t know what else to do.”

  Dax didn’t acknowledge his apology; instead he asked, “How much do you know about Eddie Martini?”

  Gunner pushed himself up slightly and took a drink of the water Billy had left at the bedside. “I’ve known him since I was a kid. He was…” Gunner hesitated. With a sour taste in his mouth he said, “He was my mother’s pimp.”

  Dax’s mask slipped slightly and he had a look of distaste on his face. “And after your mom died?”

  “I worked for him on the streets for a while, running packages.”

  “He used kids?”

  “Yeah, almost exclusively, at least on the streets. He still does as far as I know.”

  “He’s still pimping too?”

  “I believe so.”

  “Kids?”

  “Probably; had a lot of them working for him when I was running for him on the streets. I honestly stay as far away from Eddie as I can get these days, though. He made me do some pretty shady shit when I was a kid. He hasn’t been around here much lately and I probably would have stayed under his radar if not for the fighting. There’s usually not much money to be made out here in the country. I just never guessed that Kinley Bonner would get mixed up with a guy like him.”

  “Yeah, I talked to your friend Kinley. He’s not too bright, that one. He thought he’d pay Eddie off after the fight and Eddie would go away. Now he’s looking at having to go away himself, to keep Eddie from having him killed. How much were you supposed to make off that fight?”

  “Kinley gives me a cut of the take. Sometimes it’s a few hundred bucks.”

  Dax raised an eyebrow. “You get the shit kicked out of you like this for a few hundred bucks?” Gunner felt his face go hot.

  “I don’t usually get the shit kicked out of me.” Cody, who hadn’t said a word the whole time, snorted. Gunner felt his embarrassment begin to turn to anger. “That Indian was a professional fighter in his day, and I was trying to lose.”

  For the first time Cody spoke. “From the looks of you, you did a damned good job of that.”

  “Cody.” Dax didn’t look at the other man, but saying his name was enough. Cody went back to looking out the window.

  “I wasn’t going to win that fight for Eddie.”

  “I get it, kid, but now he’s pissed off and from what I hear that’s not a good thing.”

  “I’m sorry I got you involved. I didn’t know what else to do short of getting killed or becoming indebted to that piece of shit.”

  “I’m not sorry you got us involved,” Dax said, surprising him. He didn’t elaborate but his tone did change. It was low and menacing, and Gunner almost felt sorry for Eddie. He doubted that the old gangster knew what he’d gotten himself into.

  12

  Cody and Dax were sitting at a table in a place called “The Rusty Nail.” It was a bar a few miles down the road from the Head Hunters clubhouse and one of their primary hangouts.

  “Hey, pretty, will you give an old man a whiskey?” The old man sat down at the bar and beckoned the pretty young woman behind it. His hair was long and greasy and a dull shade of gray. His belly protruded out the front of his vest and lapped over the top of his jeans. He had a long, dirty-looking beard, and every exposed part of skin had a liver spot or a puckered scar. The girl smiled at him like he was Brad Pitt.

  “Of course I’ll get you a whiskey, Benny, and don’t call yourself old, you’re just in your prime.” She sat a glass down in front of him and poured whiskey into it until it was almost overflowing, then looking at the man next to him she said, “What can I get for you, Prez?”

  Cody looked at the patch on the man’s vest then. It was almost the same as the one Dax wore. They’d met the VP, a big, coarse man named Randall. His daughter was the one taking care of Gunner, although Cody had a hard time looking at the man and believing that beautiful young woman was any part of him. He looked at Dax. Dax was watching the man at the counter. He wasn’t a
big guy, and he didn’t look very formidable, but Cody had heard stories about his volatility. He was a guy that you didn’t want to be on the wrong side of. He struck down his enemies without mercy and he took no prisoners. His road name was Swinger. The rumors were that when the man was sergeant at arms, his trademark way of leaving his defeated enemies was swinging from the end of a rope.

  “I don’t understand any of this,” Cody said finally. He’d been thinking it for days, but he had come a long way with watching his mouth around Dax.

  “What is it you don’t understand?” Dax asked.

  “Why we’re here.”

  “We’re here to meet with that man right there. Swinger.”

  “I mean here in Texas. I don’t understand why we’re doing this. Since I got out, all I’ve seen and heard is you trying to build a life on that ranch where families can raise their kids and nobody is worried about the doors getting kicked in. These people are ready to go to war. Why are we getting involved in that?”

  “If I recall, it wasn’t too long ago that you called me ‘soft’ because I wasn’t willing to wage a war.”

  Cody felt his face go hot. He’d never called Dax soft to his face. He was stupid not to believe everything he said on that ranch would be taken back to Dax as soon as he said it. “I was fresh out of prison. I didn’t know anything but the lifestyle. I’ve seen how the ranch runs now and how happy everyone is. It’s a good place to raise a family.”

  “You see that now you have a family of your own.” Cody had a little boy he adored. He had a wife he adored. He also had a secret, but none of that had anything to do with this. He was genuinely concerned Dax was leading the club into a fight they didn’t belong in because he felt some connection to the stupid kid who happened to look like him.

  “I guess it has something to do with that, yeah. But putting my own family aside, I just don’t know why you’d want to risk all we have on the ranch for…” He stopped there. He didn’t know what to call Gunner without pissing Dax off.