Chapter 7
Grumpy might not have been on the frontlines as many of his brothers had been, but he’d still been a soldier. There were some lessons drilled into him that his body would never forget—including knowing when he was no longer alone.
He opened his eye, but unfortunately his pillow blocked most of his view.
For as long as he could remember, Grumpy was a back sleeper.
He might shift slightly in his sleep, but for the most part, once he was down, he was out.
Now, getting to sleep almost became a chore in and of itself, and his nighttime routine a large, arduous process.
He had to sleep on his right side due to his skin grafts and the new hardware that adorned his body.
It wasn’t exactly comfortable, though the giant body pillow given to him by the club’s ol’ ladies as a Welcome Home gift was certainly appreciated.
The biggest issue was that he couldn’t move fast. If the club was considering a new road name for him, “Sloth” would be more apropos.
Even when his body told him to move, move, move!
because his instincts said someone was in his bedroom with him, he could not get his muscles to listen.
He hadn’t been joking when he’d told Kelly that sometimes waking up was harder than going to sleep.
A finger poked his shoulder. “Uncle Grumpy?”
Any fear and anxiety left him the second he heard that voice. Relaxing back into his pillow, he had to work his jaw a few times before he could speak. After several minutes of Scotty continuously poking his shoulder, Grumpy grumbled, “How did you get into my house?”
“With a key,” Scotty answered excitedly. “But not Uncle Keys. An actual key. One that went into your front door and turned and opened.”
Grumpy felt the bed dip as Scotty got on the mattress behind him. He grunted at his nephew. “Okay. Why are you in my house?”
“You said I was allowed any time. Remember? Remember when you said that?” Scotty hastily asked, like he was afraid he’d done something wrong. “You bought this house soooo far away from my house and I was afraid you were too far away. But you said that I could come over any time I wanted. Remember?”
It was far too early in the morning for this, but damn him, he had said those words. A decade ago. Grumpy groaned, his jaw involuntarily shaking.
Scotty must have taken that as a ruling that he was not in trouble. “Daddy said you were leaving on a trip, and I had to come see you! You weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye to me, right? Daddy said you wouldn’t, but I had to be sure.”
Honestly, Grumpy hadn’t thought about goodbyes or what the club did or did not know.
Everything had happened so fast the day before, and Ghost had been out at the Vagina Doctor with Becks, who was in the eighth month of her pregnancy.
It had seemed more important to get packing, go shopping, and to organize things with Kelly’s mom, his medications, and getting Kelly’s Yugo over to Grumpy’s shop for a tune up before a massive road trip.
Plus, Kelly still had to talk to Sophia and Tally.
Despite how much Grumpy wanted to get to Texas now, he knew that it wasn’t possible to just drop everything and leave. Once, he might have been able to, but certainly not now.
Remembering the time that Scotty and Lila, Bulldog and Abby’s second oldest daughter, had gotten it into their heads to sneak into the trunk of Jumper’s cage with the intent to join their aunts and uncles on a pirate ship in San Francisco, Grumpy lifted his head slightly. “Does your father know you’re here?”
“Yes! And Uncle Bear, and Uncle Ghost, and Uncle Bulldog, and Uncle Scar, and Uncle Cage, and Aunt Angel, and Uncle Demo, and Uncle Jumper, and Uncle Pir—”
Grumpy cut the kid off. “I got it.” Cursing, he swore every ache in his body magnified at the implications. “Everyone down there?”
“Yup.”
“They sent you up here to get me?”
“Yup.”
Grumpy was very temped to tell his nephew to tell his club to “fuck off”, but damn it, he couldn’t have Scotty deliver that message. Any other niece or nephew above the age of fifteen, sure, but not Scotty. And the fuckers below knew that.
But since he’d gone and gotten himself blown up, getting himself up and moving was no longer a simple task. Grumpy was a sadistic enough bastard that he took great joy in the fact that his club was going to have to wait a while before he would be able to join them.
* * *
Grumpy hated stairs, but it wasn’t like he could avoid them for the rest of his life.
The biggest issue was his depth perception.
Since being blinded in one eye, many things, not just stairs, appeared off.
Things that he thought were closer were further out and things he thought were a ways away were right in front of him.
It would take time to get used to it, and trusting his muscle memory over his sight.
It was a difficult concept to wrap his mind around, but closing his eyes and trusting his feet to get him up and down steps that he traveled multiple times a day for a decade was safer for him than traversing them with his single eye open.
When he’d first gotten home from rehab, he’d stayed in the den.
Though he lived alone, there was a purpose to every room in his three bedroom house.
His den was more of a TV room than a sunroom or reading room.
He didn’t splurge often, but he had when it came to his lounge chair that went in his den.
The salesman had joked that it was comfortable enough to sleep in—and he had not lied.
But Grumpy also knew that he couldn’t spend the rest of his life avoiding the upper floor of his house.
So one night, against his mother’s strong objections, he decided to trek up the stairs.
It had been trying, his atrophied muscles screaming like climbing his house stairs was akin to climbing Mount Everest, but he’d done it.
Scotty patiently walked in front of him. Step by very slow step, they got themselves down to the first floor. Where the entire club waited in his living room. Some of the fuckers had even taken their boots off and had their feet up on his coffee table.
“Get your feet off my furniture,” he snapped, curbing his language in front of Scotty. He was the only club kid present—and possibly the only person who could have gotten Grumpy out of bed at this hour.
The sun was just now coming up.
Ghost crooked his finger at Scotty. The teen bounded over to him with a large goofy smile on his face, looking up at his ginger uncle expectantly.
Ghost pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and handed Scotty a hundred dollar bill.
“This should cover us for a while. Go watch TV in Uncle Grumpy’s den, yeah? ”
Excited, Scotty looked to his dad for permission.
Lucky nodded once. Scotty then proceeded to walk around the room, delivering a nose-kiss to every single person in it.
He saved Aunt Angel for last, depositing Ghost’s hundred into her hands for her swear jar.
Then he bounded into the den, knowing where Grumpy kept his remote and fleece blankets.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Ghost glared at the room.
“I am fucking sick and tired of all these fucking secrets. Anyone else have some big reveal they want to get off their chest or do I need to make some big fucking, heart-filled speech about how we’re family and the club is supposed to be about trust? ”
No one spoke up. Ghost turned his glare on Grumpy.
Grumpy shrugged, kicking Scooby off the couch so he could sit.
“Steel knew.” He didn’t say it as an insult to his new president or to compare the two.
Ghost was his own man, and had proven that on more than one occasion.
He had no idea what Steel had told Ghost, what secrets he’d passed on or not.
And Ghost had enough on his plate when he took up the gavel that he didn’t need Grumpy’s sob story of a past to deal with, too.
From the look that Lucky and Bulldog exchanged, neither the VP nor the SAA had known.
Something flared in Ghost’s green eyes, but the man quelled it quickly. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“What would it have solved if you’d known?” Grumpy asked in return.
“Well, it would have stopped me having to leave my pregnant wife at the ass-crack of dawn!” Ghost shouted.
Grumpy did not respond that that had been the man’s own choice. Not Grumpy’s.
Ghost rolled his neck, cracking it. “Anyone else get sympathy hormones the closer to your wife’s labor date?
” The biological fathers in the room all nodded.
Ghost let out a long breath like he was relieved to hear he wasn’t going crazy, though the dark circles under his eyes were still extremely prominent.
He turned back to Grumpy. “You’re taking a prospect with you.
It’s not up for discussion,” Ghost snapped when Grumpy made to argue.
“I don’t give a damn if he rides in the trunk or on his bike behind you.
He’s going in case you need something and Kelly isn’t strong enough to lift your surly ass.
Or would you rather your ol’ lady break her back trying to help you? ”
Grumpy clamped his mouth closed at that remark.
The look Ghost gave him told Grumpy the man knew exactly what he was doing.
“You’re also taking a club SUV. Again, not up for discussion,” Ghost snapped.
“If your pride would stop trying to interrupt me, I’d get through this a hell of a lot faster.
” Grumpy sat extremely still, waiting for his president to continue.
“Thank you,” Ghost said, his voice laced with sarcasm.
“The seats are going to be more comfortable, not to mention the ride’s going to be a lot smoother. And it’ll be safer overall.”
Despite that he’d taken his time with his morning exercises to annoy the men who’d broken into his house at the “ass-crack of dawn”, Grumpy had to work his jaw before he could respond. “Thank you.”