Chapter 19
Shooter
It could have been worse.
I could have been burying the body right after the fight.
I was held back from doing something that would have taken me back into that dark place.
I knew I would have my ass handed to me by Hound when he found out.
Probably guard duty or security at the Burlesque club helping Ms. Dolly or even at the Blue Sax.
It wouldn’t be extreme but just enough punishment to take me away from what I really wanted, and Hound was no idiot.
Colors had swirled around me, music through my headphones took me away from my thoughts, from the memories that would flash from time to time.
Paint spread across my canvas; when I couldn’t shed blood, paint was a substitute.
I’m not like one of the greats, I’m not that good compared to others where you see their passion, their commitment.
But it was good enough for my eyes and my thoughts.
After the fight, once everyone cleared up, I escaped to Whispers.
A legal business that the club started a few years back when the pandemic happened and people couldn’t use open spaces with other artists to express their passions.
So, one of the few legal businesses we had was someone’s solitude and gift.
Someone’s escape into their own world, in a safe manner.
Myself, I took one of those spaces, somewhat to keep an eye on the place, but also to escape into my own world.
I started coming more when Amelia started coming into our lives. Art was my distraction. But some days when I held the paintbrush in my hand, I imagined her as my canvas, swirling the brush along her skin. Even in the beginning, she was always on my mind.
Pinks and oranges crowded the canvas, but streaks of black hid under the bright colors. A true depiction of my mind. Pink and orange were her favorite colors, and the black was me intertwining with her.
All I could think about was ending that bastard’s life and giving her that happy ending. And of course, to finally make her mine.
My hand started to cramp, I needed to take a break. I didn’t know how long I had been in the studio, but time didn’t matter when I got there.
Buzzing from my phone pulls me out of a trance. Bright light shone on my face seeing the frantic texts and missed calls. All from the brothers. One call pulled up, Waylan.
Once answered, hell broke through and wanted to unleash everything I just bottled up. “Man, get back to the compound now.”
I brushed my hand through my pulled back hair. “What happened?”
“She’s here, man. She’s not looking good.”
I held my breath, replaying those words.
It was enough to have me bolting through the hallway of the nearly empty building, burst through the doors and ran to my bike.
The rain didn’t let up, but I didn’t care.
Pouring rain became like wet bullets along my ride.
Dark skies covered above, muscle memory took over navigating the long roads until I could reach the compound gate.
I didn’t stop, didn’t wait for it to be fully open.
I was the bat out of hell, with one purpose.
As soon as the main house came into view, not wanting to ruin my bike completely, I stopped, threw down the kick stand, and bolted through the front door.
“Where is she?” I roared. My wet clothes clung to me like a second skin. I dripped wetness on the floor. I turned to see Otis at the side of the couch. I rushed to the side, seeing my woman laid on the couch.
Her face was red between contusions and a small mixture of blood coming from somewhere. I couldn’t help the drops of water dripping down to her body. The coolness of it splashed her, giving me a gut-dropping moan.
“Peaches.” I bent down to her level, caressing her other cheek. She stirred awake, nuzzling her head against the pillows, when she tilted to the side, her eyes fluttered.
A soft smile made my heartbeat faster. “River.”
I brushed her hair, some of it matted from something. Or someone. Her neck was darkened with impressions.
Otis took a step back, I turned to him. “What has she told you?”
He shook his head. “Barely anything. She just wanted the couch, water, and some pain meds. I gave her the over-the-counter shit. Figured you would look her over.”
I nodded. I could put money down on what probably happened, and if I was right, it was all my fault. That’s what would truly hurt was that my actions resulted in her punishment.
Amelia leaned into my touch. “I’m safe, right?”
“Yeah, peaches, you’re safe.”
“I heard your voice.” she said softly, her eyes drifting back to sleep, but she mustered the strength to stay awake and alert. Maybe she was delusional, she wasn’t making sense, maybe that’s what my mind tried to reason with instead of the hope.
“When I came through the door?”
She shook her head. “When he was on top of me.”
I heard Otis let out a low growl, feeling the same sentiment. I shushed her. “It’s okay we don’t need to talk about it right now.”
She shook her head. “You should know I didn’t want him to do that. But he wouldn’t let me go.”
“It’s okay. You’re not there anymore. Come on, peaches, let’s get you to a proper bed.” My arms scooped her up, cradling her close. I turned to Otis. “I have a feeling you and I are going to need to talk about a situation.”
“I have a hunch. Come find me when you’re ready.” Otis clasped a hand on my shoulder and walked away, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
Amelia started to shiver, my soaked clothes didn’t help her. “I know. Let’s get you cleaned up and out of those clothes.”
She groaned. “There’s a backpack in my truck.”
“Backpack?”
“My emergency bag. In case I needed to leave. I haven’t been truthful, Shooter,” she admitted.
My heart raced at the sentiment. It wasn’t that she wasn’t truthful, it was the fact that she wasn't ready to tell me what I already know.
But the sense of guilt came back, knowing that I knew too much and still let this happen to her.
I was going to make it up to her. One way or another.
I pushed through the bedroom door, walking to the bed to lay her down in it. As soon as I did, I ran to the truck in the pouring rain. But it wasn’t a backpack, it was a big ass duffel. It was no overnight bag. She planned for a longer stay.
And she chose me for it. I hated the “yo-yo” feeling, but it was just what I needed to be what she needed right now.
I came back to find a snuggling Amelia cuddling one of the pillows. She didn’t see me come in, but I saw her take a deep breath of the fabric, inhaling the scent.
“You can have the real thing,” I teased her, as her eyes widened. A red blush flushed her cheeks.
She sat up slowly; her body was probably sore. I wanted to erase everything that happened. I wanted to take away her pain and give her pleasure. I wanted to consume her like my last breath.
I dropped the duffel, the loud thud hitting the ground. “Pull out what you need, I’ll go get my kit.”
She simply nodded and bent down to pull out what she needed. I hated to see her like that.
I cleaned her up, but what lay underneath the grime and blood was a swollen cheek and a cut right underneath the cheekbone.
She stayed quiet through the majority of it and only hissed in pain when I bandaged her cheek.
I couldn’t hold back as I pressed a kiss to her temple.
My beard scratched her cheek, there was a sigh of relief.
The first time I wanted to see her breasts was not when I asked her to remove her scrub top. She hesitated but complied. Her bra was ready to bust at the seams, I would only imagine it was from him grabbing at it.
“Shooter,” she said softly.
I started to clean her up around there, but she grabbed my wrists and I almost thought I was hurting her.
I pulled my eyes to her. I shivered, only to remember that I put her first and I was on the verge of developing pneumonia.
I held up a finger, telling her to wait, because something told me she was ready to reveal everything and finally let me in.
After changing into sweatpants and a tank top, her face looked back at me and flushed again.
“What’s wrong?”
“Really? Sweatpants?” she groaned.
I looked down… gray sweatpants. Oops.
I pulled a chair to the bedside, and sat down, waiting for her.
With a deep sigh, she could barely look at me, was she feeling ashamed, guilty? I tilted her face back to me. Her big brown beautiful eyes were enough to melt anyone else’s heart.
“I’ve been hiding something from you. And I need you to hear me out.
” I was going to hear her anyway, but I played along.
I nodded. With a deep breath and a shiver from her body aches, she continued, “I said that you shouldn’t want me, it’s more than you think or about me stalling for something.
My life is a fucking mess. And in short, I’ve been in the process of getting divorced.
Unfortunately, I still live with him or rather am trapped with him due to the crippling debt that he put in both our names with his gambling.
” I took her hand in mine, softly rubbing her knuckles.
She was unraveling, possibly waiting for me to react or walk away, but that would never happen. She went on, “I’ve been paying down the debt, because once I’m done he’ll finally sign the papers. But… fuck… the next part, you can’t overreact. Promise me.”
I knew the next part, but she admitted it was another thing. I promised, though it would easily be taken back.
Amelia hung her head. “Over the years, when I said I was trapped, I am, to a monster that doesn’t know when to stop. Every chance I have to be away, it feels like I can breathe. But when he’s near he… umm…” she started stumbling over the words, trying to put it in less harsh terms.
“He hurts you,” I finished for her.
“Yeah, and tonight was a lot different.”
“He did this to you.” My voice stayed stern.
But should I have told her that I knew? I knew everything about her when I pretended that I didn’t?
I just got her in my arms, and I was about to risk losing her.
It wasn’t the right time. My gut told me to wait.
I was good with secrets. Though with her, everything would go out the window.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
It was a smack to the face. Why the fuck was she apologizing for a man that could barely be called a man?
In a moment of possessiveness, I pulled her into my lap, she was still half dressed and my cock knew that. I needed her to hear me.
“I don’t want to hear you say those words.
Ever. Again. Do you understand?” She whimpered.
She tried to speak, but I covered her mouth with my hand.
“Nope. Since when do you apologize for this? A man is not a man when he puts hands on a woman. Especially a woman that he made a vow to love and cherish and build a life with. I have half a mind to take care of him myself.” She tensed up, almost scrambling off my lap. I held her tighter.
“You’re not going anywhere. You’re right where you belong.” I didn’t think before I spoke, I have no regrets. I wasn’t sugarcoating it anymore. I was a man obsessed. “You came to me. You found me. And I’m going to take care of you.”
She searched in my eyes for a lie, she wasn’t going to find one. She placed her hands on my chest. She started to recount what happened at the house and my blood began to boil. I wasn’t there for her.
When she finished, I had her stand up for me to check for additional bruising and checked on her mobility now that adrenaline had settled down.
Through my normal exams, she would be sore in the morning but she was just roughed up more than usual.
Her throat was still bruised, still showing the imprints of fingers around her neck.
With all the good I was seeing, there was something soul crushing that kept trying to break through. Maybe it was the guilt.
“Thank you for telling me. But there’s something I think you need to know.” I said, as I stood behind her, my hand trailing from the tops of her thighs up her bare back. “I already knew about him, Chris, and the debt.”
Her body prickled, creating goosebumps. “I had some information pulled and I was given a treasure trove of stuff.” Her head turned to the side, getting a better view peripherally. “I know a lot of things. But only you could tell me in your own words about your life.”
I left out that her ex-husband was at the underground match. I spilled enough of the truth for the moment.
“You knew my life was already a mess and yet you still tried to insert yourself in my life. I don’t need a savior. I’ve been surviving this long without you,” she hissed out, trying to be angry. Like a cute little kitten hissing at you for just looking at them.
“It’s very cute you trying to be angry at me.” I couldn’t help but smile as I kissed her back softly, “We both know you’ll survive with me.”
She tensed up.
“Did you really think that whatever was going on with your life would turn me away?” My arms encircled her, pulling her flushed against me.
“Why didn’t you just tell me you knew everything at this point?” she asked. For someone who was supposed to be pissed off that I had information on her, she sure was pushing her ass into my dick. I groaned at her movements.
“Because I needed you to tell me, to show me that you trusted me, that you could come to me with anything and know that I wasn’t running away.” I leaned down, kissing the side of her neck. Her head rolled to the other side, giving me more to taste, more to want.
“You don’t care that I’m broken?” she whispered.
I pulled away from her neck, leaned closed to her ear. “You’re not broken. Even if you were, we can put you back together.”
It was pure torture, my little angel feeling like she wasn’t good enough.
I breathed her in, feeling her heart beat close to me. She wasn’t going back. She wasn’t going to have a choice.
“Stay with me, Amelia. Heal… with me.” Okay, I made her feel like she had a choice.
In the end, we both knew she wasn’t going to say no. She was finally mine.