Chapter Thirty
Stone
A bright flash of light shone on my face, and I groaned out loud. I shielded my eyes with a hand that hung limply from my wrist and croaked, “I told you fuckers, I don’t know shit,” through a throat dry as sandpaper.
“Sarge!” a voice shouted. “They’re U.S. soldiers—I think.”
My heart jolted at the accent.
For what felt like eons, we’d heard nothing but Arabic voices. Arabic laughter. Arabic shouting, threats, and screeching. Questions, more threats, and beatings.
“You a Brit?” I rasped.
“Yeah, mate. I’m a Brit,” he replied softly. “All we seem to do is get you Yanks out of bother. You gung-ho motherfuckers.”
Somehow, I forced my eyes open, but everything was so damned blurry, I couldn’t make out his face, only the dark walls of the cave that had been our prison for God only knew how long. Our captors had left us here and ran, maybe a couple of days before, tied up, injured, and starving.
Boots stomped, and voices rose up around me. After what seemed like hours of constant chatter in my ears, I felt pressure as I was pulled and lifted onto something—maybe a stretcher. I cursed at the pain shooting through my arm. Every inch of me ached, and the back of my shoulder felt as if it was on fire.
“Be careful,” one of the Brits called out. “He’s wounded. Shoulder, arm, and hand. He’s got some bad burns, too. Infected and stinkin’.”
“Get them on the transport. Radio in and ask for medics on standby.”
“Marine,” I rasped at Spence, my head lolling to one side as I felt myself being carried. “You okay, bud?”
“Will be when I get a steak down my neck,” he replied hoarsely. “Need a fuckin’ beer, Stone.”
Laughter rose up around us, then a snort and, “Fucking nutty Yanks.”
“Nutty Marines, you mean.” More laughter.
“How long have you been here?” One of them asked.
“What’s the date?” Spence muttered.
“Tenth of April,” he replied.
“Few months,” Spence muttered. “Jesus Christ. How’s Desert Shield goin’?”
“It turned into Desert Storm, mate. The ground assault commenced back in January when we declared war. Coalition troops swept through Kuwait within the month, and the enemy ran for their lives. Since then, we’ve started rebuilding. We were ordered to cross the border near Abdali, push through, and do a sweep for weapons in these caves. We got a tip-off. Found a stash of assault rifles and M4s, then we found you.”
“Stone,” Spence muttered from beside me.
We were jolted as the truck started moving, and I turned to my bud, the man who’d kept me going for the last few months when I thought I’d die. I couldn’t see shit. Just an outline. “Yeah, Spence?”
“You’ll see her soon, bud,” he rasped. “You made it.”
A vision swam through my mind, the same one that had pulled me back from the brink of death more than once during the last few months. My Leesy, tossing her long, beautiful blonde hair before smiling at me over her shoulder.
My heart cracked open, ‘cause being without my girl had been worse torture than the beatings I endured. God forgive me for bein’ a weak ass, but my throat heated, and moisture filled my eyes.
“Yeah, bud.” I paused as a tear slid down my cheek. “I’ll see her soon.”
We were taken back to our original base, patched up, and sent back to Camp Pendleton within the week. I needed additional surgeries on my arm and an IV full of antibiotic drugs that were so strong it turned my piss blue. Our debrief was sad. Laska and the Lance Corporal driving the Humvee lost their lives. Spence and I were presumed dead. They never recovered our bodies, so it was believed we’d also been caught up in the explosion.
We explained how we were taken into Iraq, questioned, and tortured. At first, we’d been imprisoned in a village where we’d initially been treated by a young girl called Fenal, who was no older than fifteen.
Spence told me I was delirious for weeks until, eventually, Fenal managed to get my infection under control by using herb compresses. My bud’s leg was broken, and she’d re-set it the best she could with no pain relief, except it hadn’t been done correctly, so the doctors here would have to break it and re-set it again.
We both had wicked burns that were now healing, but they weren’t pretty, and we’d be scarred for life.
It was clear we had a long road ahead of us. We were emaciated, almost starved. It would take a while to build our bodies up again.
The second somebody brought me a telephone, I contacted Dad.
I’d never heard my dad sob that way before. He said he’d be at camp within a couple of days. I told him to bring Ma and Leesy too, but he told me we could sort that out later. He just needed to see and talk to me and get me home.
I tried to call Elise, but the phone at her house had been cut off. My heart couldn’t take another moment without her, but at least I was back. I knew she’d have been beside herself thinkin’ I was dead. If the boot was on the other foot, I’d go on a damned rampage.
In the meantime, we were let go from the Marines with honorable discharges, which was for the best. While we were captured, me and Spence talked about leaving anyway. We didn’t know if we’d live or die, but talking about how we’d start our lives again when we got back on U.S. soil, kept our spirits up and prevented us from breaking. I couldn’t, in all good conscience, put myself or Elise through that shit again.
I hated to think of the damage control I had ahead of me. There was no doubt Elise had been hurt badly, and that was something I had to live with forever.
I’d enlisted for action and adventure and got enough to last three lifetimes.
Home was my priority now. I’d marry Elise immediately and open the auto shop. If I’d learned anything over the last few months it was to grab life by the balls. No more waiting, and no more putting shit off. There was a lot to unpack. My girl’s dad had passed, and she thought I’d been killed, too. We needed to heal, and I reckoned a big wedding would be a good start. Plus, I wanted babies.
At least our moms would be in their element planning our big day.
The instant I saw Dad, I knew something was terribly wrong.
He saw me, and his face crumbled. Within a second of walking through the door, he was sitting on my bed, holding me.
“Son,” he whispered. “It’s a miracle. Never been a godly man. Saw a lotta shit in ‘Nam that made me wonder what kind of God would put innocents through such hell. But you’re a reason to believe again ‘cause he’s answered my prayers.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, holding in all the confused feelings coursing through my veins. I had nothing to blubber about. I was here, and I was alive, but Dad’s pure, raw emotion was a sight to behold. Bikers never showed that shit, especially Bandit Stone. Me dying must’ve really done a number on him if he was here, crying all over my Marine-issue bedsheets.
“I’m okay, Pop,” I croaked. “Battered and bruised, and I need feeding up, but Mom will get on the case.”
Dad pulled back, holding my face in his hands. “Son, I’ve gotta tell you somethin’, and you gotta brace. It’s big, and it’s bad.”
I took in his bloodshot eyes and ashen complexion under his unusually scruffy beard. “What?”
Pain filled his eyes. “Your mother passed away back in January, Son. She had a massive stroke and died the next day.”
My head bowed, the strength to hold it up suddenly leaving me. “No.”
“I’m sorry.” His usual booming, raspy tone was an agony-filled whisper. “There’s nothin’ I can do to make it better, John. Believe me when I say I’ve tried. I don’t mind admitting, losin’ you and your mother so close together put me on my ass. I let a lotta shit slip, John, I wasn’t strong.”
The deeper Dad’s words sank in, the tighter my chest got. “I don’t understand. What happened.”
His fingers curled around the back of my neck, and his forehead touched my skull. “Your ma had high blood pressure for the last few years, John. The doctor gave her meds, and she took them when she remembered, but not regularly. There was nothin’ anyone could do. We had the funeral, Son. Men came from far and wide to pay their respects. We kept it in-club, the way she always wanted. I would’ve waited, John; I swear I would if I had even an inkling you were alive.”
“Funeral?” My eyes met Dad’s, and I blinked back my tears. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”
He nodded slowly, squeezing his eyes shut. Removing his hand from my nape, he thrust it through his hair. “I know, Son.”
My head dropped back against the wall behind me as I recalled my mom’s smile, her laugh, and the way her expression softened whenever she looked at me or Dad.
I scraped a hand down my face, almost surprised when it came away wet from tears I didn’t realize stained my cheeks.
“Your mother was a fine woman, John,” Dad croaked. “She was so proud of you. She raised you to be decent and strong. In the days” comin’, you’re gonna need to call on that strength. Fact is, in my grief, I allowed a lot of shit to slide.”
“What?” I asked dazedly.
“The club’s a mess, literally and figuratively,” he advised me quietly. “Left orders to clean the place up while I was gone, but we’ve got a lotta work to do when we get back.”
“I don’t give a fuck about the club,” I snapped. “My mom’s gone. I need time.”
“That’s the last thing you need,” he retorted. “You need to keep busy and put all your energy into club business.”
“No, Dad,” I bit out. “I need to put all my energy into my ol’ lady. She’s lost her dad, her man, and a woman she looked at as a second mom, all in the space of six months. Elise is where my energy’s goin’, not the damned club.”
His face blanked.
My heart skipped a beat. “What?”
I studied him as he closed his eyes, and I fucking knew there was more heartache to come. I could feel it in the ice filling my veins.
“Tell me,” I demanded. “Fuckin’ tell me,” I leaned toward Dad and snarled, “now!”
He sighed. “Your ol’ lady married Robert Henderson last month, then a few weeks back, she gave birth to his son.”
The words didn’t penetrate; they were too damned ludicrous. “Jesus, Dad. I know you’ve been messed up about Mom and my supposed death, but that shit ain’t true, and you know it. Stop fuckin’ with me.”
His eyes bored into mine. “Not fuckin’ with ya, Son. Every word’s true.”
“No,” I told him, my tone final. “If she married him, there’s a good reason. If my Leesy’s had a baby, it’s mine, not his.” A thread of excitement weaved through my chest as something hit me. “Jesus, I’m a dad.”
“John—” Dad began, but I cut him off, my mind working overtime, trying to sense Dad’s words. “I need to get home and sort this mess out. I bet she married him ‘cause she didn’t know what else to do. She thought I was dead, and she was pregnant.” My forehead suddenly furrowed. “Why did you let her do it? Why didn’t you help her instead of lettin’ her go to him? You could’ve sent her away somewhere to have the baby, let things die down a bit, and give her some space.”
“John,” Dad said, softer that time. “Don’t get your hopes up.”
“You dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” I retorted. “You don’t know her like I do, Dad. Leesy would never sleep with somebody else, not so soon after I…” I took a breath and carried on, “I know it as well as you know Mom wouldn’t. My Elise hasn’t got it in her. I’ll come back, and she can get a divorce or an annulment. I’ll sort it.” I scraped a hand down my face. “Fuck! What a mess.” Shaking my head, I turned back to Dad. “Will you tell me about Mom? What happened?”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “But not tonight. You’ve got surgery tomorrow on that arm, and I want your head right, ‘cause, Son, can’t fuckin’ lose you again. Couldn’t survive any more loss.”
“Mom would kick your ass,” I murmured, a heavy weight settling on my chest. “She’d have said, Don Stone, pull yourself together. You’re a big, tough biker. Start acting like it.”
For the first time in six months, I watched as my dad’s familiar broad smile spread across his face, bringing a little comfort with it.
“Yeah, she would.” His eyes took on a faraway look. “My Queenie would’ve told me straight up.” His hand reached out and settled on mine. “Gettin’ you back’s given me somethin’ to live for again, John. I”m not proud of the way I fell apart. Should’ve known my stubborn boy would dance to his own tune. You’re a chip off the old block, and one day, you’ll make a fine president. She would’ve been proud of ya.”
Something hit me in the solar plexus so hard that I flinched.
Mom was gone.
I’d never see her again.
A wave of emotion hit me like a tsunami, and tears welled in my eyes again. “Fuck!”
Dad smiled sadly. “She’s left a hole in my life that I’ll never plug. No woman will take her place, ‘cause, as far as I’m concerned, she’ll always be queen of my castle.”
My ribs grew tight across my lungs, and I rubbed at the ache in my heart. “I’m gonna miss her.”
Dad’s hand tagged my neck again and pulled me to him. “Cry it out. Get rid of it. You’ve got a battle ahead, John. Get the sorrow out so there’s only the love left behind. It’s what she would’ve wanted.”
So, I did. For the first time in all my years, me and my dad cried together. Then we reminisced and swapped stories about Mom for hours before crying some more.
It was crazy because I hardly gave Elise’s situation a second thought while I blubbered and reminisced with Dad. I was so secure in our love and commitment to each other that it didn’t occur to me that there was more at play.
Her situation was messed up, but she’d thought I was dead. It sickened me that Henderson had taken advantage of her in her grief. But once she discovered the truth, we’d be together again.
I had no doubt.