Violet's Guns: Book 9 of Colson Brothers Series

by Reese Madison

  Gunner walked over retrieving my textbook then dismissed the slut. She shot me a dirty look along with a very long finger-nailed bird. I just rolled my eyes and put a coffee mug under the box tap of wine in the small fridge under the bar. Fuck her. Fuck them. Whatever.

  I straightened to find Gunner sitting at the bar across from me. “Pour me a beer you little pain in my ass.”

  I poured him a beer and sat on Red’s breastfeeding stool, at least that’s what it was nicknamed back in the day when she was breastfeeding Emmy. Emmy’s is like two now? I forget. “You didn’t have to dismiss her. I know I’m being a bitch.”

  He shrugged. “Just pussy. I can get it anytime I want.”

  “That’s disgusting. How many STD’s do you have??”

  “None. I always use protection. Speaking of which if I can’t get laid neither can you. And you better use protection in college. You come home here knocked up and I’ll kick your ass.” He threatened as I slid him the beer.

  “I’m not stupid.” I sipped the wine grateful for it’s rich red calming effect on my nerves.

  “I’m going to be keeping track of you at ASU too. Where are you going to live?”

  “The dorm the first year, then I’ll get an apartment. Even with the life insurance money will be tight. I’ll move in with a bunch of people when the time comes. They live like it’s a crash pad and split all the bills. I’ll be too busy to do any more than sleep there, so it works.” I explained.

  “You need to give me all their names. You’re my responsibility now Violet. I take my responsibilities very seriously.”

  “You’re not responsible for me Gunner. I appreciate you holding my hand through this, and I’m sorry I threw my book at you.” I cringed at my immature reaction to him being a man with needs. Needs he’s not afraid to flaunt and sate as he pleases.

  “You yelled at me too. If you were my kid I’d spank you.” He downed half the beer.

  “I’m not your kid. I’ll be eighteen in a few weeks. I think losing my parents the way I did qualifies me for instant adulthood.”

  Gunner got up and came around the bar to fold me into a hug. A hug I haven’t gotten since the day of the double funeral. “I got you kid.”

  Later that night Gunner fell asleep in my bed at the club. This didn’t surprise me so much as when I woke up with my head on his shoulder with his arm draped over my hip. Nothing sexual. Gunner just held me. This became a habit throughout the summer.

  A lot of rumors flew around the club about us. Salina got tired of it and started chewing people out for talking shit about their Sargent at Arms. Her tone and the look in her eyes shut the rumors down pretty hard. As soon as I turned eighteen I thought they were funny. Before that I was worried Gunner might be accused of something he was definitely not doing.

  Even though we both know at seventeen the charges wouldn’t stick, especially since I’d laugh right in the judge’s face at the accusation. The only thing Gunner is guilty of is being an overbearing slave driver with a warped sense of humor.

  He and half the club attended my graduation. Only he, Slider, and Salina had tickets. The one hundred and thirteen other bikers stood in the back. The school didn’t object. It helped the principal made a brief announcement about why, and a nod to me for my loss. He kept it short. I thanked him in my head.

  Instead of spending the summer like most kids Gunner put me to work. He taught me everything he had time to about motorcycles, guns, building houses (his day job), and the importance of reading. I read everything. He tested me constantly with quizzes and manual labor. If I had enough energy to attempt to draw before passing out every night from exhaustion it was a miracle.

  The dreadful day of my leaving for college came too quickly.

  Gunner loaded up all my crap in his truck, including my bike, and drove me to Tempe. The drive wasn’t long enough.

  When he reached over and took my hand I relaxed a bit. “It’s okay kid. I’m only a few miles away, and even closer by phone. Call me any time you need me. Even if you decide to break the rules and start crying.”

  I squeezed his hand. “I’m so reliant on you.”

  “No. Not really. You got this Violet. Kick ass and fuck taking names. You have your mother’s gift. Make it work for you. Remember what I keep telling you.”

  “I know. I know. They wouldn’t want me to fall apart.”

  “And?”

  “And if I let you down you’re going to spank me. Hard.” I laughed a little on the inside at the thought. He’s smacked my ass a few times, again nothing sexual. I like the physical pain because it’s the only reprieve I get from the emotional pain, however fleeting.

  “That’s right.” He glanced over at me. “You’re going to be fine Violet. You’ll make friends, party, learn shit that will amaze you, and come out of this farting rainbows.”

  I laughed out loud this time. “You’re an idiot.”

  “True, but you still love me.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I’m stupid like that. At least now you can get laid again.” We’ve developed a banter that to anyone who doesn’t know us would sound like we almost hate each other, or an old married couple, depends on your perspective I guess. We’ve been accused of the latter more than once. I like our banter, it keeps me centered. Grounded.

  “Thank god. My nuts are turning a whole new shade of blue.” Gunner complained in a now familiar tone of amusement not everyone picks up on. You have to kind of know Gunner to understand most of what comes out of his mouth.

  I rolled my eyes before looking over at him. “Thank you Gunner. I know I put you out for the last three months. I owe you so much more than I can ever repay.”

  “Sure you can.” He interrupted before I get too mushy. “Kick ass at college. How many times do I have to tell you that?” He’s getting annoyed with me again.

  Saying goodbye was a lot harder than I thought. “Another million.” I’m going to miss his voice, and his presence at night. Tonight will be the first of many long lonely nights. “Fuck I hate this.”

  An hour later I apologized to my roommate then cried into my pillow for the rest of the afternoon and night. Being alone for the first time destroyed me, or threatened to. If it wasn’t for not wanting to let Gunner, and my parents, down I’d be running back to the club and begging for a job and permanent residence in one of the apartments.

  I can’t do that though. Gunner wouldn’t respect my weakness. He’d eventually turn his back on me for letting him down. One way or another I have to pull my shit together.

  The next morning things got better. Well, they got busier. Between orientations and tracking down all my classes I didn’t get a chance to call Gunner until almost ten at night.

  He answered with his usual lack of enthusiasm. “Hey. You get all your shit done today?”

  “Yeah.” I closed my eyes as his voice calmed my nerves. “I might have even made a friend.”

  “Oh thank god.” The exaggerated relief in his tone made me laugh. If it wasn’t for Gunner and his warped sense of humor I don’t think I could find it in me to ever laugh again.

  “Ha ha. You know you love having me all to yourself.” Not really. If anything I’m sure he’s glad to be rid of me.

  “I do miss my bed warmer and blanket thief.” And there’s my moment of sentiment. The only one I’ll get. I filed it away in my head.

  “This bed is so small I keep hitting the wall. Kind of reminds me of you. Except it’s not warm and grumpy.”

  “How’s the tiny little dorm?” He teased. I know he misses me. When he’s sound asleep he holds me in his arms. Usually in a spoon. On rare occasions I’d wake up tucked under his arm and get to rest my arm over his stomach. My parents were big into hugs. Gunner is not. Having him close at night helped ease the ache for affection. Nothing more.

  “Nobody is snoring like a freight train.” I teased. He snores a little after a few beers, which he doesn’t do very often. I don’t tell him that though. As far as he’s concerned he
’s lucky I sleep with him at all considering the way he snores.

  “Text me after your first class. Make sure you eat lunch too.”

  “Love you too.” I know he’s saying goodnight.

  “You better.” He disconnected.

  That’s pretty much how the next four years went. I took summer classes and got a Masters in Art History in the time it takes most people six years to get. My internships kept me away from home but a few nights twice a year. Gunner always made sure to reserve the apartment for me. I haven’t been able to go home since that day Gunner helped me packed my shit after the funeral. Staying at the club keeps me busy like finals are as the school year wraps up. If I was home, alone, I’d just cry all the time.

  He’s usually seeing someone, so other than a few words here and there in our familiar banter we’ve kind of grown apart. We still text all the time, and I call him once a week for a quick briefing, if I remember. Gunner rarely calls me, and my calls have been getting further and further apart. He still teases me when we do talk, and still demands constant updates on my classes and progress via email.

  I made a few new friends, but none really stuck beyond promising to keep in touch online. I rented a U-Haul the day after my last class knowing I wouldn’t be attending graduation. You can’t top the last one, and the club has more or less forgotten about me now anyway. Mostly I just want to get home and start my life.

  Driving back to Apache Junction was weird this time. ASU had become my home. My apartment was so close I felt like I still lived on campus. Now I have to go home to a place I haven’t known since before that tragic day.

  “This is going to suck.” I said to myself pulling onto 60.

  2

  Life went back to normal after Violet left. I started getting laid again, and the club brought me back into the fold on more shit. For Violet’s safety Joe had kind of taken over for me for a few months. He didn’t like it, but he’d done a good job.

  She keeps in touch regularly, and comes to visit a couple times a year for a few days. I try not to be attached to some bimbo at the time, but my timing usually sucks.

  Not this time. This time she’s coming home for good so I made sure to cut off all ties with the latest woman dumb enough to risk her heart in my bed. Hey, not my fault. I’m a guy. I need sex. I like sex. I’m always honest with them, but for some dumb fucking reason they think they can change me. Be ‘the one’. Not going to happen.

  I told Violet to call me when she left so I could be at the house when she got there. Of course she didn’t listen. I knew she wouldn’t by the way she’d so easily agreed. Violet lies to me on occasion. I’m not sure why.

  I managed to beat her to the house anyway.

  She shook her head as she parked the U-Haul truck full of all the crap she’d collected over the years.

  When I opened her door for her she jumped me wrapping arms and legs around me as I fought for balance. “Guns!!! You’re here!!”

  “Of course I’m here. Holy shit. What’d you eat, a small horse??” She’s matured and put on a few pounds. I like it. She looks healthy now. Too healthy. Makes a man hungry for something other than food.

  She bit my neck and shoved off dropping to the ground. “Jerk.” She spun around putting her arms up in the air. “I look good.”

  I laughed rubbing my offended neck. Did she just bite me? “Yes, you do. Welcome home Violet.” I bent and retrieved the present I’d picked up for her. “Here. I got you something.”

  She ripped into the paper almost dropping it. “You got me a present?? It’s heavy.”

  “Every week until you open shop you’re going to be taking shooting lessons from me. You’re a grown woman living alone. You need to learn to defend yourself.”

  She lifted the lid on the box and bit her lip. “Whoa. It’s purple.”

  “No. It’s violet. I stole one of your stupid extensions and had the gunsmith match the color. Don’t lose it, that cost me two months salary.” Well, it would have if I hadn’t forged it myself. My road name has more to do with my hobby than my title with the club. Only a few people know this, and Violet is not one of them. A man needs something that is just his and his alone, otherwise he’ll get lost in everything that isn’t.

  She lifted the Kimber Pro Carry II .45 from the case. It’s supposed to be one the top rated guns to fit a woman’s needs. I test fired it then cleaned it. Sure enough it’s a good fit from what I remember of my Violet’s little hands. “Wow. It’s beautiful.” She gripped it, removed the clip, put it back, pulled the hammer back clearing the gun then reset it back in it’s resting position “Wow. It feels great. Thank you!” Her smile was worth a thousand violet guns.

  “We’ll start your lessons tomorrow. Now put it back so we can unload all this shit.” I offered her the case and lifted the lid. I don’t think she realized he’d almost dropped it.

  She looked up as tears filled her eyes. “Thank you. All this time I thought we’d grown apart, and here you are. I needed this today. More than you will ever know.”

  “I know you did.” I closed the lid on her new gun case and put my arm around her shoulders. “We didn’t grow apart. I gave you room to grow. You grew alright.” She pinched my side hard. “Ow. Vixen. Open the damn truck. I got the door.”

  “How do you have the door? Did I give you a key?” She asked confused.

  “Goat, Joe, and I replaced your locks shortly after you left for college. Joe installed an alarm. Kids kept trying to break in.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me??” She spun around in front of me sending long jet-black hair with it’s signature purple, or violet, streak sailing over her shoulder.

  “No damage was done. There was some graffiti, but prospects got it cleaned up easily enough. We only put the alarm in to make sure no more than that happened. Joe changed your locks and windows when he put in the alarm. I was going to give you a key but you never asked. Evidently you haven’t been here in over four years.”

  She cringed and spun back around. “I couldn’t. Avoidance was easier.”

  “We covered everything with sheets. Don’t aggravate my allergies by whipping them off.”

  She punched my arm like the old days. “Far be it for you to sneeze.”

  “I don’t like sneezing.” Actually, I don’t give a fuck if I sneeze. This is just our familiar banter settling back into place. Feels good. I’m long overdue for a fix. Don’t tell Violet, but I’ve missed her a lot more than I ever expected. She and I became fast friends after she lost her parents. I’ve never really had a female friend. We bonded through tragedy. She doesn’t know this but understand her pain better than she thinks.

  “Is there anything you do like?” She asked absently pulling the cover back on the glass countertop that used to be the first thing customers would see when they first walked in. “It’s the same.”

  “I left it on purpose. Joe wanted me box everything up so you could come home to a clean slate. I thought you should face it now. Put things away yourself.” I flipped on the lights and went through the parlor to the kitchen.

  She joined me as I poured her two fingers of whiskey. “You remembered.”

  “At least you’re old enough to drink now.” I tapped my glass to hers. “Welcome home Violet. Your parents would be proud.”

  She nodded and downed the two fingers before offering me her glass for more. “I’ve been at college for four years Guns. Hit me.”

  I poured her another two fingers. “So, tell me about all the stuff you haven’t been telling me about all these years.”

  “What?” She took a sip. “I told you pretty much everything.”

  “Pretty much?”

  “Well, I don’t know. I probably left out a few things unintentionally, but you got the gist.” She looked at me funny. “What are you fishing for?”

  “Boyfriends. Broken hearts. Asses to kick.” My need to protect her, even after the fact, hasn’t wavered one bit.

  She rolled her eyes. “You know I’ve been s
aving myself for you.” Then she winked, downed her drink, and we set about unloading her truck so she could turn it in before getting charged for a second day.

  I gave her a ride back to her house after returning the U-Haul truck. “Hungry?”

  “Yeah, but I think I’m just going to order pizza. Tell Red I’ll be by tomorrow. I just need some time tonight.”

  “Need some company?”

  “No. You taught me how to handle things on my own, that’s what I’m going to keep doing. I can’t go back to relying on you. It’s not fair to you, it’s not fair to us.” She slid from my truck and a pang of regret stabbed me in the heart. Huh. I didn’t think I had one.

  “Maybe I want to stay.” I suggested following her to the front door now that we’re back.

  She turned around and looked up after unlocking it. “Go home. I’m going to order a pizza and cry my way through my first night home while I go through shit. I’m going to pack the things I don’t need, the memories, and cry hard into a bottle of Jack while I do it. It’s going to be ugly. You don’t want to bear witness.”

  “Yeah, I think I should.” I pushed open the door behind her and shoved her inside.

  “Hey!! I’m giving you an out! Get out!!” She sounds sincere, but I’m guessing that’s the idea. Either way, I’m staying. Breakdowns are hard enough. Breakdowns alone can make one suicidal. I know.

  I locked the door and set the alarm. “I’m going to take a shower.”

  “Gunner.” She’s tired. “What’s the code so I can put things in the shed?”

  “Don’t go outside while I’m in the shower. Make piles. I’ll take them out to the shed for you later.” I replied already halfway up the stairs.

  “Gunner?!”

  The urgency in her voice had me stopping. “What?”

  She bit her lower lip then exhaled. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “I’m not. I was just getting used to having the bed and blankets to myself.” Somebody has to mess with her.