Chapter 22
Tank
I cross my arms over my chest as I lean against Aisling's doorframe and watch Jas grip our daughter's hand from where she’s kneeling next to our girl's bed. She keeps her eyes on her chest, her body trembling, everything that has happened slowly seeping into her, and I know she’s going to crash soon.
Aisling's been asleep for the past hour despite it only being noon, the morning taking it outta the sweetheart, and my girl hasn’t moved from her bedside. Meaning, I still haven’t stitched up her wounds despite the kit ready in our room and the brothers waiting for me back at the club.
Despite hanging up my leather, I still need to witness that my girls are going to be safe from now on, and maybe Jas and I can try to get back what we lost these past six years. I can try to learn to forgive her, especially after seeing things from her point of view today.
And I’ve gotta tell yah, the little voice telling me it and then seeing it, completely two different things.
I sigh as Jas drops her head and sniffles.
After we got back from the park, the brothers took the soon-to-be-dead fuckers to the torture shack at the club, and I brought Jas home.
Even though Jas agreed to let Aisling stay with Doc while I stitched her up, our daughter just wanted her mama and Jas hasn’t moved from Aisling’s side since, and I have no idea how to pull her away long enough to treat her wounds.
The rag I managed to tape against her at the park is already drenched in her blood. She’ll become lightheaded soon, and don’t get me fucking started on infection.
I saw the knife, the blade was rusty.
“Buttercup,” I finally say softly, and she flinches, making me sigh, “come on, I need to fix your wounds up.”
I watch as she takes a deep breath before she slowly stands, her body jolting at the pain she’s feeling, and my jaw locks as I stay deathly still, giving her this moment as she slowly bends down and presses her lips against Aisling's forehead.
As soon as she struggles to straighten, I instantly push myself off the door and walk over to her in three large steps, my arm instantly but carefully going around her waist, and frustration pulls at me feeling her body tremble.
I get she didn’t want to leave our daughter but for fuck’s sake, she’s in pain.
Trying not to snap at her, I gently pull her back to my front and slowly walk us backwards out of our girls' room, and she grips my arm around her as I kiss the back of her head and guide her towards our room.
The same room by the way, she is fucking sleeping in tonight, whether she likes it or not.
I help Jas sit on the edge of the bed, then kneel and gently gather the bottom of the shirt—one I gave her years ago and carefully ease it off her, helping her good arm out first before removing it from her injured side.
I toss the shirt on the floor and watch as her eyes follow it, and she mutters, “That one was my favorite…”
“I know, buttercup,” I whisper, knowing it will have to be thrown out with the holes in the side. “You can take any other one you want,” I offer, but she doesn’t answer me. Instead, she stares at the shirt on the floor, at our past.
I gave it her the first time we slept together and I never got it back, not that I cared. The fabric looked better on her than it did on me.
Sighing, I look down her body, my eyes going to the tattoo that makes my dick twitch like a jackass, and my heart squeeze seeing she still has it. Though, now she’s got some more meat on her bones, it looks even hotter.
She’s struggled that fucking much over the past six years.
She’s barely been eating, giving the food to our daughter, and that just makes my resentment grow because she knows wherever she went, I would have followed but instead she chose to struggle.
She believed she was doing what was right when she wasn’t.
I would have protected them like I did earlier but I can stupidly see her point of view as well.
Fuck, my head is all scrambled after today.
Shaking my head, I slowly remove the drenched rag and inspect the three wounds. The first two look small, but the third, the one I had to pull the knife out of, looks a little bigger and deeper.
Fucking bitch is going to feel my wrath for this…
Breathing through my nose as I grit my teeth, I grab some gloves and quickly put them on before grabbing the saline solution and gauze before drenching the cotton.
Then ever so fucking carefully, I wipe around the wounds, getting rid of the excess blood, fresh blood already reappearing, and I, fuck me, my anger is consuming me right now.
Chucking the gauze with force into the little bag I opened earlier, I grab the needle I already dispensed.
“Okay, buttercup, I’m going to just numb the area, you’ll feel a pinch, alright?” I say, and she gives me a nod, and I swallow hard.
I fucking hate that I have to do this, but I also know I don’t want anyone else to touch my fucking girl.
Taking a deep breath, I slowly inject the needle near the wounds, making her suck in a breath, and I gently rub my thumb over her thigh, trying to help keep her calm.
“So, you told me so, huh?” I say as I drop the needle in the tray, trying to distract her and I grab more gauze and begin to clean inside the wounds, and she snorts.
“Kind of,” she croaks, her voice laced with pain, and I hum.
“I guess this is what you were trying to stop from happening,” I confirm, even though I know the answer.
“Yeah,” she whispers, “but I don’t understand how your mother knew Bruce.”
“Well, that is something I have to find out, but something tells me, years ago, Mama saw us together and figured out who you were and who was close to your family. I think she sought out Bruce to become her spy where you are concerned. I think your mother blabbed everything to him the night she attacked you and he then went to my mother, but that is a lot of thinks. I will find out the truth, just as soon as I stitch you up.”
She hums but doesn’t say anything else and I look up for a moment as I put the bloodied gauze in the bag to see her staring off, and I swallow hard.
She’s acting differently, and it is fucking worrying me.
I mean, why was she at that park to begin with when there’s one just across the road from here?
Why was she ignoring my phone calls?
Why is she flinching every time I call her buttercup?
Crap, did she see…
I shake my head, instantly denying my own thoughts because if she’d come to the garage, Vincent would have mentioned something.
Not if he had to follow her, a niggling voice whispers and I take a deep breath as the realization hits me.
Fuck me, she fucking saw and thinks I’m not only screwing the cougar still and Nell but now also Chanel.
Dammit!
Sighing, I grab the needle and thread and gently pierce her skin, silence surrounding us and I try and think of a plan to get through to her but my resentment towards her goes up a notch at her silent treatment.
Why am I the one always having to fight for her?
When is she going to fight for me, for us?
***
“Paul, please, you love me,” I hear the woman who birthed me plead as I slowly descend the steps into the torture shack an hour later, and I curl my lip.
After stitching Jas up, giving her over twenty fucking stitches and bandaging her wounds, I helped her climb into bed and watched as she slowly drifted off and after ensuring she was knocked out.
I kissed her head before checking on Aisling to see if she was still sound asleep as well which she was, then I came to the clubhouse after confirming my thoughts with Vincent who is standing outside my front door, protecting my girls.
I know Jas won’t stay asleep for long, it’s the middle of the day, but I’m hoping she does rest, to let her side heal, and for the love of god, not rip her fucking stitches.
“I did, once upon a time, before finding out you're nothing but a lying psycho bitch!” Dad growls in return, and Thunder mentions, “Pretty sure if he still loved you, he wouldn’t be balls deep inside Tiffany every chance he gets,” before he grunts, and he snaps, “Hey, that hurt, Trigger!”
“I cheated on my wife, jackass. Are you trying to assume I didn’t love her?
” Trigger growls and I shake my head at the idiots as I walk inside the full room, not shocked to see every brother in here while the woman who should have loved me unconditionally sits in the middle of the room, her legs and arms tied.
Kate on her left, Bruce on her right, both gagged and both trembling with fear just how I like them.
“Fuck off, you were different, and you know it,” Thunder snaps, “you loved her that much, you tried to kill yourself because of your guilt, Rocky has none.”
Trigger scowls at Thunder, hating being reminded of his fuck ups, which, yeah, were a fucking lot, and I say, “Well, isn’t this a party?” to hopefully help Trigger from going down the deep end again.
He still has suicidal thoughts, especially when he’s reminded of what he did to Ash and how much he hurt her, and she doesn’t need the stress.
“L-Logan, please,” Sara sobs, “I-I’m you-your mother, she-she just-just wants your cut…”
“What cut?” I ask coldly, causing every brother to glare my way, but I ignore them and keep my eyes locked on Sara, a woman I stopped seeing as my mother years ago.
Her bottom lip wobbles, and I look at Bruce next, who flinches at my coldness, and slowly I walk over to him before bending and yanking the gag out of his mouth, and he cries out in pain.
“Tell me something, Brucey, when exactly did my mother convince you to become her spy where my girl is concerned?” I ask with a sneer and sweat beads at his forehead as I slowly bring the knife Kate stabbed into my girl out of my jeans pocket and he eyes it.
“When-when Jassy was twenty and still in college. She-she was refusing to come home most weekends when her mother demanded her to. Sara gave me head after I agreed to let her know Jassy’s whereabouts every day.
She-she had that tracker on the car so it was easy, until it never moved but I’ve been fucking Sara ever since…
” He stutters, and I curl my lip at him as the brothers gag behind me because yeah, that shit is just fucking nasty.
“So basically you’ve been watching my girl right after we got together, huh? Though not just to keep tabs on her for mother dearest here, but because you wanted her right?” I confirm, and he shakes, his face paling as he keeps his eyes on my hand.
Fucking pansy.
I move away from him and move over to Kate next, whose eyes eat me up like she isn’t about to lose her fucking life.
Pathetic bitch.
Instead of tearing the gag off like she’s expecting, I lunge forward and stab the knife into the side of her neck making her eyes widen and Mama screams as Bruce mumbles, “No, no, no…”
“Fucking hell, the monster is out,” My dad mutters but I don’t look away from the woman who stabbed my girl as I whisper, “Just so you know, your mother was a better fuck than you and she’ll be joining you real soon…”
The woman got arrested right after she tried that whole cliché shit at my front door.
Apparently, she stole over five mil from her ex-husband, and he pressed charges, meaning she’s sitting in a women’s detention facility just outside of Louisiana where the Rebels have several inmates on our side and will gladly take her out for us.
I won’t leave anyone around that can hurt my girls.
Tears drop as she chokes behind the gag, and I twist the knife before yanking it sideways, slicing across her throat, making her choke against the gag in her mouth, and within seconds, her head drops, blood squirting everywhere, and I slowly look towards the egg donor and Bruce, both looking at Kate with wide eyes.
“Dad,” I say lowly as I eye Sara, and she instantly begins screaming, “No, please, no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
“You should have just stayed gone, Sara,” Dad states coldly as he holds his gun to her head and she sobs as she tries to get out of the ties before her head drops forward, a gunshot sound echoing in the room and Dad frowns as he looks at the end of his gun in confusion then around the room along with everyone else only to see Thunder standing behind him, his gun out and Dad’s mouth parts in shock as Thunder says, “Rot in hell, bitch,” before looking at my shocked dad and says, “You were still with her for over thirty years, I wasn’t going to let you have the guilt of her death put on you,” and my lips twitch.
Fucking Thunder.
Bruce sobs, gains our attention, and I slowly stalk towards him, Kate’s blood staining my hands, and he cries, “I’m s-sorry, please, she-she was supposed to be mine…”
“No,” I deny, “she was always mine, and you, fucker, tried to attack my five-year-old fucking daughter!”
“I’m sorry!” he shouts just as my fist hits his face and his head flings back.
All the anger I’ve held inside since Jasmine left without a word, all the pain I’ve felt, the fear, the resentment, it all comes out and instead of grabbing my piece, or any of the weapons lining the walls, I hit him repeatedly in the face, blood splattering everywhere as his body jolts.
I bring my right fist around and hit him hard in the temple and his body limps, but even then, I don’t stop, I get my anger and pain out on him.
The vision of a small Jas crying for help when he tried to attack her, of all the times she was scared to go home, I hit him until I’m breathing heavy and not one brother stops me, knowing I need this.
I’m mad at Jasmine, even though I now understand her reasons, that I’ve seen them head on, I’m still mad at her.
I still don’t trust her anymore but at least this way instead of continuously snapping at her, taking my resentment out on her, I can take them out on this fucker, even if he is already dead especially when after confirming with Vincent, I know she did fucking indeed see Chanel.
Her being closed off before coming here knocking me for fucking six and for once since getting her back, I don’t relish in her pain, instead her pain becomes mine and I hit the fucker harder.
***
An hour later, I breathe heavily as I stand before a bloodied and unrecognizable Bruce, my knuckles sore, but I pay no heed to them.
“You need to ride, brother,” Trigger says, “I’ll come with you.”
I nod, not disputing his words, knowing I need to ride this tension off.
I want to heal people, and killing someone has always stayed on my conscience, and tonight I’ve killed two.
Even though I’m not god, I don’t get to say who lives and dies, I’ll sleep well knowing these three before me won’t be able to ever hurt my family again and I’ll tell that conscience to fuck off.