Chapter 37
Shooter
He wasn’t supposed to be caught up in our dealings. He wasn’t supposed to be attached to anything.
He was an innocent man, trying to make his way in this world.
It had been days since he came through the emergency room, days since I bolted through the reception, pushing past all the people trying to keep me at bay.
My mind went somewhere else, lost like I traveled back to my active duty days, worried which soldier would end up on our table.
I don’t know what scared me more; the fact that it was Amelia who called me delivering the news or the fact that it was Dillon, worried about who was after us that led to his assault.
He was supposed to be strong and prove to everyone wrong that he would mentor and teach the newer generation.
And instead, his body was recovering from the surgeries that kept him alive.
The doctors were worried that the wounds were nicked muscle that he needed to just walk.
He wouldn’t ever be back to his fighting shape.
That part of his life, once he woke up, would be over. The dreams he had would be put on hold.
The excessive beeping was the only sound in his room.
Guilt had ridden me.
How did it get this far?
A hand rested on my shoulder, as I grasped a soft, cold hand. I knew it was her.
“What did I tell you?”
“You told me a lot of things, and he’s still in and out," I said, trying to keep the anger from pouring out.
“His body is trying to heal. You know that.” She tried to soothe me as her hands kneaded my shoulders, traveling up my neck, trying to massage the tense muscles in my upper back.
I hummed as her hands kept splaying around on my skin.
Her touch melted away the thoughts of anger and sadness, if only for a second.
She leaned down to my ear, her minty breath caressing my skin. “Do I need to make you leave? To go shower? To go get something to eat?” She nipped at my ear.
Fuck, if she was trying to make me obey her, she was doing a fucking good job. I was seconds away from murmuring “yes ma’am.” She reached over, trailing her hands across my chest and down.
“Peaches.” I groaned, her nails raking across my shirt material. “You’re not playing fair.”
“Who says I was trying to play fair?” She pressed soft kisses along my neck.
She was playing a dangerous game and she knew that.
She was taking a play from my book. “Maybe I just want to take care of my man. Especially because,” she continued peppering kisses, her hands still distracting me, “I can see him withering away.”
“I’m not,” I groaned out.
“You haven’t moved. You haven’t stepped away. And Shooter,” she took an inhale, and pulled away, finding my eyes, “You’re in desperate need of a shower.”
“You trying to tell me something?”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, I’d offer you a sponge bath… but I’m off the clock.”
I smirked. “You could still do it.” I heard her stomach gurgle. “Maybe you’re the one that needs to be taken care of.”
She nuzzled my neck, wrapping her arms around me from behind. “I’m fine. Seriously, sugar.” My hands trailed along her arms, and I grabbed her hand, bringing it to my lips.
I knew I was fucking done for, especially when she was so tempting to just carry her into the bathroom and say fuck it.
“Okay, but I want to be back here as soon as possible,” I proposed.
“Or you could have one of the brothers stand watch, keep Dillon company,” she offered. I nodded, sending a message to the club asking for a volunteer. Hank responded he would be up to the hospital in minutes.
I hated leaving the hospital, even if it was just briefly. Maybe it was the hot water pelting my skin or a little minx that had her hand wrapped around my cock like her personal play toy, but some of the stress melted away. Amelia never left my side, either.
She stayed beside me, being there for anything I needed. Reminded me so much of my recovery, but instead of being there out of commitment, she was there out of choice and love.
“I don’t fucking deserve you.” I said, wrapping her in a tight hug, making her wrap her legs around me.
“Oh, well big boy, I think that makes two of us, because I don’t deserve you. And yet two broken people found each other.” She kissed me, slowly, sensually.
I would argue that she wasn’t going to have a choice about it, I knew I wanted her from the moment she swayed her hips.
Her nails dug into my neck, deepening the kiss. I was on the verge of fucking her up against the wall, but the loud ringing of my phone told us otherwise.
Amelia groaned. “No. Five more minutes.”
“Peaches, we both know five minutes wouldn’t be enough.” I chuckled, not letting her go, but found my phone. “Talk,” I said.
“He’s asking for you.” Hank’s gravelly voice rang out.
Riding back to the hospital was a blur. Amelia clung on to me like her life depended on it. As soon as we got to the hospital, we rushed back to his room. The overhead bed light was turned on, and his nurse was leaving the bedside. Hank nodded and got up from the chair, offering it to me.
Dillon’s face had also taken a small beating but nothing compared to the wounds inflicted on him.
Amelia grabbed my hand, her angelic face forced a smile, she squeezed my hand. “I’ll let you two have a moment.” She offered Dillon a smile, almost like she knew the pain he must be in.
She almost let go of my hand before I pulled her into my chest. “Gimme a kiss.”
“So needy.” She giggled before pressing a quick kiss on lips and left to go find Hank.
My nerves started to shake, knowing there were so many questions I wanted him to answer, but knew that not all answers were going to be given.
I slowly took the seat by the bedside, trying to muster up the words to tell him exactly what I was feeling. But the cocky son of a bitch did it first.
“That your girl?” he asked.
“You end up in the hospital and the first thing you ask is if that girl is with me?” I shook my head, “What drugs they have you hooked up with?”
“Shooter.” His voice started to break.
“You’re fine, kid. You fucking lucky to be alive.” My voice was teetering on chewing his ass out.
“I’m sorry.” His eyes darted to his folded hands in his lap.
“Sorry about what? Almost dying? I should say you don’t need to be sorry, but shit, kid, you had me worried.” Fuck, I was starting to sound a parent.
Dillon shook his head. “I was stupid.”
I raised an eyebrow. His tense body language spoke so many different messages. Sadness, anger, and a side of guilt?
“Why are you assuming this is your fault? Did you ask to be stabbed and practically left for dead?”
He shook his head, but he was holding back something. I scooted the chair closer to him. “What are you not telling me?”
Dillon looked like he had been holding back the biggest secret. The weight of a secret isn’t worth a life. “You won’t… this really is my fault.”
“Cut the bullshit,” I shouted. The past few days had tested my patience and the strength of not murdering anyone on sight.
“I had this coming,” he mumbled.
“Had what coming?” I pressed.
“You want me to say that I fucking screwed up, again.” He raised his voice, his vital monitor chiming from the rise in his blood pressure and heart rate. He groaned at the slightest movement from adjusting himself in the bed. “I should have said no from the start but I didn’t.”
“Whatever it is, tell me. I don’t know why you didn’t come to me if you’re so worried about it.”
His eyes darted to me. “Because I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
The damn kid. I never meant for him to seek my approval or feel like his movements were under a microscope or think that I would judge him for decisions. Fuck, my own decisions weren’t ethical or logical, but I made them.
“Why do you think this was bound to happen?” I asked again.
“Because I was warned from the beginning that if I didn’t follow orders, the consequences would follow me when I least expected it,” he said, humbly.
“Start from the beginning,” I told him.
He nodded. “After I had finally convinced you to let me do another fight, the word was spreading and I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.
Maybe it was arrogance, or stupid pride, but someone overheard me.
They piqued my interest and told me that they’d make a deal where I could make triple what I was going to make from the fight once I won.
I knew that it was bad, it was sounding too good.
But all I could think about was getting out of debt, being a few steps ahead for the next year or so, finishing school, and never having to return to my home. ”
He was making a plan for his future, but ended up making a deal with a devil.
“Money changes people, especially when it comes to making a new life and leaving your old one,” he said.
I couldn’t help but know how related it was to Amelia. Both require money to clear their paths to their destinies, their futures. We’ve all been there, waiting for greed to turn its ugly head. And only the humble and strongest ones knew how to walk away from temptation.
“What was the deal?” I asked.
“I was supposed to throw the fight,” he admitted.
My mind spun faster than I could speak. Everything was making sense.
He was pulling his throws, loosening his stance for a reason.
Someone told him to, and a reward would be bigger than anything else.
It explained the way he was twitchy, always looking over his shoulder.
He was being a bigger man, fighting between proving his worth with winning or honoring a deal that would diminish the work he put in the gym.
A new kind of emotion surged through my body. Vengeance.
“Why didn’t you? Knowing that you would be spared?”