Chapter 10
Shooter
Maybe Stray wasn’t far off when he said that I looked like I was ready to go on a hunt.
Day after day, the more I was well-behaved for her, the more I’d see a slight smile. The sessions were getting better, at least for her, as much as I wanted to protest. But I wanted to give a reason to come back.
The more I listened and followed her instructions, the more I opened myself up, showing her that I could be trusted in return.
The more I opened, the more she relaxed and started to let me in.
I knew more about her addiction to energy drinks and candy corn than ever before.
She let it slip how she missed riding her horse from back home.
I could see the painful memory in her face.
My hands itched to caress her cheek, to console her, but I quickly withdrew.
True obsession led to insanity. I wasn’t looking for permission or forgiveness.
I listened to my little evil nurse and took the pain meds and just rested, taking my time to heal.
That only lasted about two days before I was up and walking to my truck.
After she would leave me for the day, I waited for a few minutes and followed her home.
Then may or may not have installed some “security measures” while she was at work.
People should have better locks on their home doors.
I watched Amelia, from the second she left my sight to the point where she laid her head to sleep.
She had a mundane routine if anything. When she left me, she’d follow the winding path back to the main drag until she got on the highway heading toward downtown Memphis.
When she merged off the highway to get toward small neighborhoods, she would stop by the gas station to pick up an energy drink for the next shift and a snack, usually a chocolate iced donut before heading in the direction toward her home.
I’d stay close, avoiding any indication that I was following her, where she would get spooked and throw off her routine.
I’d park by the opposite street corner where I was able to see into the house, but when that wasn’t doing anything for me I went for a better option.
Hopefully she would never have to water those plants that seem to just die or dust within her bedroom.
My “eyes” were everywhere. I had to know everything, if anything to ensure that nothing would be following her that would end up in the hands of the club.
I’d watch her pull slowly into the driveway, glancing at the parked car on the street. Her shoulders moved slightly up and down, hanging her head a little before throwing her bag over her shoulder and mustering the courage to walk in.
Just leave him, peaches. Let me help you. I’d silently beg.
I pulled up the feed to see him. I was ready to skin him alive. I was so pissed that I nearly chipped my tooth while I was eating gummy bears that were stashed in my truck. Her ex-husband sat on the couch, nursing a beer in his hands. The mindless idiot just sat there and waited for her.
“You’re home late,” he said, chugging the rest of the beer.
With a sigh, Amelia responded, “Yes, Chris, we talked about this. But clearly, as usual, you didn’t fucking listen.”
Amelia moved past the living room, trying to ignore the lazy fuck and just sleep.
It had only been a week and a half since she took the side job, but she was still working her normal shifts and then some.
If it wasn’t for the fact that I made her eat before we started our “therapy session”, she’d fade away.
“You should be home,” Chris bellowed.
“And why would I want to come home to a sorry excuse, huh? Not like you’re home all the time either,” she snapped back.
That’s my girl, don’t give him any kindness.
In a rage, I saw through the video feed Chris get up and stalked toward the kitchen from the living room. I switched over to the feeds, because the more he fucked up, the more reason I had to drag his sorry ass behind my truck.
“Because you’re my wife, and you need to be home,” he said, trapping her against the counter.
He leaned in close to her, her expression filled with disgust and fight. She gave him a shove. “Never call me that again. You lost that the moment you hit me.”
And like a ticking time bomb, there was all the reason I needed to end his miserable life.
That night I learned that it wasn’t the only time he laid hands on her.
It explained everything, from the bruising I saw, to the flinching reaction when someone touched her.
I should have seen it. There was a lot I should have seen.
I couldn’t go barging, I’d lose her all together before I had the chance to really have her.
Chris charged again, gripping her chin, pressing his fingers closer together, then I felt my blood boil when he smashed his lips on hers, probably hoping that it would change her mind, change her words. Amelia let out a squeal, trying to push him away, fighting that kiss.
She did the only thing she could do. Amelia rammed her knee in his crotch, crumpling him to the ground. She scrambled to steady her feet before taking off, but Chris mustered the strength to reach for her ankle and bring her to the ground.
I should have saved her, put a bullet through him already.
I was torn. How could I make sure that nothing got back to her?
Would she run from me, knowing the true monster wanted to hunt him down and drown him in the nearest river.
Hound Dog would absolutely murder me, putting everything at risk.
But Amelia proved that she was a fighter.
She kicked him in the face hard enough to render him unconscious. He would have one nasty headache.
I switched feeds, seeing into her room. Amelia bolted to her room, slamming the door behind her, locking the door as well. She should have three locks on that door. But if she was with me, she wouldn’t have any locks, she would be in my arms where she was the safest.
She looked up to the ceiling, repeating the mantra, “He doesn’t deserve your tears. He doesn’t deserve your tears.”
No, he didn’t.
Time passed by and her ex left, grumbling something that he was going to blow off some steam. When he left, I went inside her house. Darkness clouded me as I entered her home. She was dead asleep, nothing was going to wake her up.
She laid there, in just her t-shirt and panties, snuggled under blankets, sleeping on her side. She had put herself in a fetal position. Only the moonlight cast a light on her. She looked too pure, too angelic for someone like me.
I wasn’t a white knight; I was more a grim reaper that left tragedy at people’s doorstep. I was the one that craved blood, she was more of the healer. Her soul called mine.
Her soft whimpers pulled my attention, she was dreaming hard and I wanted to know what her pretty little mind was envisioning.
Her body relaxed, whatever she was dreaming certainly eased her tension.
I looked around her bedroom, some of it was messy with clothes all over the ground.
Pictures of her life decorated the area.
It was a small sanctuary. A pile of books was stacked high in the corner.
I stood by the bed one last time, brushing the little hairs out of her face, until one word made me freeze.
“River,” she whimpered. She tossed a couple of times before settling in, exhaling hard.
A smug smile appeared on my face. My woman was dreaming of me. She could fight me all the time, telling me that I was nothing more than her pain in her ass and our kiss meant nothing. But hearing my name on her lips, in her sleep, betrayed her lies.
I knew she’d never know, but I brushed a light kiss on her forehead, whispering, “I will never hurt you.”
Mentally, physically, I would never hurt her. And I was going to prove that.
Like a natural reaction, she sighed, settling back into her deep sleep.
The longer I stood there, the longer I kept itching to climb into that bed of hers and pull her close to my chest, to give her the sense of peace that she had been yearning for.
I wanted to chase whatever demons danced in her head.
“I promise, he’ll be nothing but a grave stone. I’m sorry, peaches, I wasn’t able to stop him.”
I had to pull myself away from her before she had the chance to wake up.
I clenched my fists, hating everything about the situation and being on the edge of creating chaos and being a good warrior for the club.
But she looked so peaceful, makeup free, everything natural.
I knew it wasn’t going to be the last time that I’d see her like this.
She was quickly turning into my obsession.
Getting into Amelia’s house undetected wasn’t the problem, it was sneaking back into the clubhouse like I was a damn teenager missing curfew. Before I could make it back to my room, B.B. and Otis stood close to the hallway, just waiting for me.
I tried to play it off. “Ah, you guys didn’t have to wait up for me.”
Their straight faces didn’t change. Only Stray knew what I was doing, or at least some idea.
“What have you been up to? Wouldn’t happen to be going against doctor’s orders there, would you, troublemaker?” B.B’s playful side came out when his mouth twisted into a smirk. I saw the angle, playing the “good cop”, well I wasn’t going to break.
I shook my head, stepping closer to the hallway, “Just needed some air, something to look at other than Otis’s pretty face and the four walls.” I attempted to brush past them, but Otis’s hand stopped me.
“Doing something illegal?” Otis snipped. I rolled my eyes, the man was always worried in some fashion that I was the one breaking all the laws. I had only been arrested a couple times the previous year, it was the lowest yet.
“You gonna be able to get to the matches in the next few weeks?” Otis asked, knowing that I needed to oversee them to report back to him.
Also, with the information from Stray about the supposed new blood on the streets, people would be fucking stupid enough to stalk our businesses and try to take them down.
That was on my mind as well. Amongst other things.
“If evil nurse lets me,” I muttered.
“I gotta pay that saint of a woman double for putting up with your ass.” A deep voice crept up behind me. Hound Dog came into view, crowding around me.
“For your information, I have been nice to her all this time,” I said, tilting my chin up.
“You need to follow her rules, Shooter, I mean it. I need you back in shape and everything back in order.”
“And I’m not allowed some fresh air?” I snapped back, quickly reining it back in.
B.B. stepped in. “Is that what we’re calling it? Fresh air?”
“Yeah, blondie, fresh air. Would do you some good if you stepped away from the Feathers." The Feathers being the burlesque club that Ms. Dolly runs. I knew why he went, but he kept a secret.
B.B’s charm faded into a deep scowl, almost warning me.
“And no offense, Prez, you talk about having to pay double for me, when we all don’t know how Melody puts up with you,” I deflected big time on that. And for a moment it worked.
“She loves me,” Hound Dog fought back.
Otis chimed in, “And yet no ring on it.”
Hound got very possessive in his darkened expression. “My name on her back, I’m just a happy fucker that she has that.”
A brief image played in my mind of Amelia with a cut with my name on it. But I could imagine a few other places that I’d like my name on. She would look like a goddamn sin in it. I snapped back to the moment. “Get her a ring and she’ll be even happier.”
Hound shook his head. “I’m working on it. No more late night trips. We’re not stupid, your truck has been missing some nights. Stop now. I can’t be worrying more about this club than I already have. We can’t afford any dumbass moves. You hear me?”
As much as I wanted to say “fuck off”, Hound Dog was my president and it wouldn’t bode well.
I simply nodded, and headed back to my room. I drifted off into a deep sleep and into a dream world where I saw my woman.
I was ready to make that dream come true.