CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Sean
Every time I come here and see Buck, I’m hit with the guilt of knowing that I couldn’t save him from this.
Every fucking time. If I’d sat on the other side of the Humvee I would be Buck.
But I don’t show that weakness or guilt to him.
Instead, I come to him with a smile on my face and life’s simple pleasures: the cheeseburger and fries I promised him he would get out there in the desert. Every single week.
“My heart breaks for him. He’s so young,” Layla says as we walk back to the main building.
I stop and she follows suit. “That’s the one thing you’re not allowed to do, little dove,” I tell her, taking her hand and looking into her eyes.
“I realize his injuries are hard to stomach, but to pity him is the worst way you can treat an injured soldier. He knew what he was signing up for when he enlisted. In his mind it was his honor, he told me himself. He doesn’t feel sorry for himself, so we don’t either, understand? ”
Layla swallows and offers me a soft smile. Her full, pink lips turn up just enough to exaggerate her pretty cheekbones. “I understand,” she agrees.
I hold her hand tighter and we continue to walk.
“Does he have people to support him besides you?” she asks.
I nod. “Yeah, his wife Sophie. They were high school sweethearts. She comes to see him every other day. She lives here in Savannah and they have an eight-year-old daughter.”
Layla breathes out a sigh. “I’m really happy about that, but why doesn’t he live at home with them?”
“Sophie works as a schoolteacher. She brings their daughter to visit a lot, and Vets can do out days, so they make day trips, or sometimes weekend trips between the long-term care home and their family home. He spends every holiday with them, but Buck won’t live with her full-time.
He’s adamant. His only wish was for his care not to consume their life.
He didn’t want Sophie to have to quit her job and spend every waking second offering him round-the-clock care, which he needs.
He wants their love to stay alive. He said he didn’t fight so hard to live so that he could end up a burden.
Instead, he wants the time spent with his family to be a joy. And it is.”
“And he has you. It’s amazing that you spend so much time here with him.”
We make it back to my bike and I clip Layla’s helmet on for her, checking the strap the way I do every time.
“It’s not amazing, little dove. I give him my time because he’s my brother.
” I notice the admiration in her eyes as I bend down and kiss her on the tip of her nose then climb onto my bike and pop the kickstand.
It’s late afternoon now, and I still want to do one thing with her before I take her home and fuck her ten ways to Sunday. I wait for Layla to climb on behind me but she doesn’t, and I turn and glance over my shoulder to see her just looking at me.
“Come on, woman, we’re burning daylight. I have to stop at the club quick before we go for dinner. My mother wants you to come by so you can give her your opinion on a cake for Flip’s party.”
“Well, we don’t keep Shelly waiting.”
“Fuck no,” I respond.
Layla just shakes her head at me as she climbs on and wraps her arms around my waist. The closest thing I’ve ever felt to love fills me when she leans her head on my back as I tug her closer and she whispers, “You’re a good man, Sean Hunter. A beautiful soul.”
Of all the things I’ve ever been called, a good man isn’t one of them. But for Layla, I want to be the best version of myself that I can.
“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Shorty asks me. He’s our club’s resident tattoo artist and right now he’s looking at me like I’m insane.
Layla is with my mother and Maria making food to feed the members that are here tonight, and I’d still like to talk to Kai before I leave, so I know I don’t have long.
“Nope, and I don’t pay you to ask questions.
I pay you to work.” I drop cash in the middle of the table.
“And I want it exact.” I tap the piece of paper in front of him.
He looks down at it then back up at me. Shaking his head, he smiles at me, his eyes crinkling in the corners.
He picks up the piece of stencil paper and places it where I asked, in the exact place Layla ran her fingers the first night I met her.
Just over my cheekbone, under my eye. He holds up a mirror so I can see where he’s about to start to ink. I nod.
“Yup.”
Shorty chuckles. “Alright, man. You’re the boss.”
The hum of his gun fires up, and as he raises his hand I don’t feel an ounce of hesitation—in fact, I’ve never been more sure of anything, ever. I can’t wait to see the look on my little dove’s face.