Текст книги "Burning Ember"

Автор книги: Darby Briar

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Текущая страница: 31 (всего у книги 33 страниц)

Losing someone we love shows us how much better we should have loved.

MAVERICK

Do you know what it feels like to have the woman you love wilt in your arms? To see the life leave her eyes, and feel it fade from her body?

It feels like the air you breathe no longer exists. Like the sun on your skin will never shine again because God himself is reaching down to pluck her from your strong and capable hands, silently telling you that the treasure he entrusted you with, you no longer deserve. And I can do nothing . . . not a damn thing to make it right.

Those feelings sweep through me as Ember closes her eyes and her strength drains from her limbs. They latch around my throat as I hand her frail body over to the emergency room nurses and doctors to work on. They consume me as I pace in the waiting room, and they continue to hold me speechless for two weeks.

Because even when she blinks open her eyes, she’s still gone.

She won’t look at me, talk to me, and retreats further inside herself every time I touch her. She stares for hours on end at nothing, the wall, the window, or at her hands. And it kills me, because I have no idea how to get through to her.

All I know is that I’ll do anything to fix the damage I’ve done. No matter how long it takes or how hard the road is I have ahead of me. Somehow, I’ll find a way to rekindle the spark we share, because even though it lies dormant between us now, it’s still there, and I suspect it always will be.

That alone makes her silence bearable and gives me hope that we still have a future together. I believe in her. Now I just need her to believe in me again.

What doesn’t tear two people apart, binds them together.

MAVERICK

Both of us watch Doctor Alister leave the room. Ember’s sitting in the hospital bed staring at the light blue blanket covering her legs. Something she does all the time now, stares anywhere but in my direction. She’s gnawing on her bottom lip and twisting her fingers together. After a few seconds, she exhales, turns, and picks up the phone.

Up to this point, I’ve put up with her ignoring me, looking everywhere but at me, and treating me like I’m a goddamn ghost.

But that ends today. I’ve been waiting for this. This inevitable fight for over two weeks. I don’t even care anymore that she can have me kicked out, because she’s being discharged tomorrow, so they can only keep me away from her for the night.

Folding my arms over my chest, I growl, “Hang it up.”

Her body tenses at my command, but that’s the only response she gives that she’s heard me.

“Hey. It’s me,” she says softly into the phone.

I move closer until I’m a foot away. “Hang up the fuckin’ phone, Ember.”

Her grip on the phone tightens. “Yeah. Tomorrow. In the morning.”

My body begins to vibrate with anger. I snatch the phone from her hand. “She has a ride and a place to stay,” I snarl before I hang up and slam the phone on the bedside table. Her uneaten cereal from this morning sloshes around and spills. Her water mug falls and bounces on the linoleum flooring.

“You’re not going to Bethany’s. Or with Lil’ or Goose. And you sure as fuck aren’t goin’ home. You’re gonna need constant care for weeks, Ember, until you’re back on your feet and can start doin’ normal things for yourself again. Is that not what the doctor just said?”

When her chin dips and she begins to stare down at her hands, I go on. “Bethany has her hands full with the bar and her two kids, and Lil’ wouldn’t know what the fuck to do. She’d give you food poisonin’ in a week.”

Her emotionless state is one I’m sick of seeing. She barely eats. She wakes from nightmares most nights, and she’s rail thin, even more so than when she came to the clubhouse that first day. The only time her face has any life in it is when Will’s here and even then, her small smile is shaky at best.

“The Greenbacks may have taken the price off your head, but it doesn’t mean your father will stay away. There’s no way of knowin’ what he’ll do now.”

I’m a bastard for saying it, but it’s the truth and she needs to hear it.

“Do you want to put Bethany and the kids in danger?”

I wait. I wait five fucking minutes and finally, she shakes her head.

“Then you’re comin’ home with me, where I can protect you and take care of you. I can work from home, and I’ve already hired a nurse. I’ve prepared a room for you and Will with everything you’re gonna need.” It’s subtle but she stills. “Sunny’s welcome too, if she wants to stay there after she gets out.”

Doctor Alister updated Ember on her sister’s condition a few days after she woke, and every couple of days since. Sunny has suffered permanent brain damage to her temporal lobe. The full extent of what that means for her in the future, the doctors are still trying to figure out; but so far, she’s having trouble with her speech and recalling some long-term memories. Also, she’s looking at quite a bit of physical therapy and plastic surgery over the next few months.

Ember took the news hard. She cried silently for hours until she passed out from exhaustion. And she was completely zoned out from the world the next day.

Though she probably ignored every word I told her, Smoke’s been at Sunny’s bedside around the clock and he’s spared no expense to get her the best care money can buy.

I didn’t tell her the rest.

That Smoke asked the club for permission to stay in Albuquerque. That a few days ago, Pappy sat down with Edge, me, Griz, Dozer, and Smoke. We told him the club voted against granting the Greenbacks permission to move into New Mexico. The vote had nothing to do with Cap’s accident, because now that he’s awake, and we know exactly who’s responsible for gunning him down, we no longer suspect the GBs had anything to do with it. The sad fact is . . . it was one of our own who was responsible.

No, the club vote against the GBs coming here was unanimous because not one brother wanted to do business with, or trust a man who’d betray his VP and put out a hit on his own daughter. By doing what he did, Pappy, himself, proved to the HOCs what I’ve been saying all along. Our two clubs don’t live by the same code. Our priorities differ. And what we value above everything else, they do not.

I also told Pappy that Ember’s my old lady and made it clear that her, her sister, and her niece are under our protection. If anything happens to them, the club will hold him personally responsible. The fucker had to balls to ask if he could speak with her, said it was about her mother, and I almost reached across the table to choke the life out of him. I would have if Edge and Dozer hadn’t held me back. Instead, I growled that if he or his psychotic son ever come anywhere near her, I’d bury them both.

Edge ended the conversation by delivering the news that until we vote otherwise, GBs need to find someone else to run their dope and clean their money.

I could tell Pappy was boiling with hostility, on the verge of exploding, but we didn’t give a fuck. Cap wasn’t making the calls anymore, we were. And unless Pappy wanted to go to war, he’d live with our decision.

Then the HOCs and I moved to another part of the empty bar with Deeds and the other Greenbacks who came with Pappy. We gave Smoke what he wanted. He squared off against his old friend. No question, it would get bloody. But we took bets on whether or not they’d both survive and who’d win. Of course Smoke did, having a good twenty pounds on Pappy, and the wrath of hell driving his fist. It surprised us all though that the Greenbacks and Deeds never once stepped forward to come to Pappy’s aid, and that Smoke left Pappy breathing, and tossed his colors on his unconscious body before walking off.

That’s the kind of shit that Ember never needs to know. That and I suspect Pappy killed her mother and it’s the reason she never came home.

“Is it safe?” Ember’s voice is brittle, and I stop breathing, questioning whether I really heard her speak. It’s the first damn time she’s spoken to me since just after I killed Warner, and a cool rush of hope fills my chest.

“I’ll make it safe, Doll. I won’t let anything happen to you, Sunny, or Will. The club won’t either. And Taz has been dealt with by the club for startin’ all this. He’s been lettin’ Dozer and some of the other brother’s wail on him because of it.”

“I don’t blame Taz.” She says it so meekly, I almost don’t hear it.

I let my eyes roam over her freckled face, and cinnamon lashes, her nose, her pink lips, and the familiar chain she still wears around her neck, before I say, “I know, Doll. I know who you blame.”

Her face rises and for a second my heart stills. Her gaze stops at my chest and falls back to the blanket. “I don’t blame you either.”

“We both know that’s bullshit.”

“It’s not,” her voice gets stronger.

“It is!” I seethe. She shakes her head. I sit on the end of the bed below her feet and plant my hands beside her knees to try to get her to look me in the eye. “Then, why can’t you fuckin’ look at me? Is it because of what I did? Because you see me differently now?”

She freezes and her eyes close. “No, I’m thankful for what you did.” Her answer sounds genuine. “It’s probably the only thing that helps me sleep at night. Knowing that I don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

I tilt my head and study her. “Then why won’t you look at me? Why do you pull away every time I touch you?”

She shrugs. Her hand comes up, sweeps a tear away from her face, but another slides down her cheek and continues to her chin. I leave the bottom of the bed and sit beside her, cup her face. I try to raise it. When I do, she looks down at my jaw.

Voice thick, I whisper, “Why, Doll? It’s killin’ me. Just tell me.” Using my thumbs, I rub away the tears as they continue to fall.

“Because you won’t . . .” Shaking her head, she mumbles, “ . . . not the way you used to . . .” She tries to pull her face away, but I won’t let her.

“I won’t what?”

“Feel the same way, look at me the same.” She hurries to say. “I should have fought harder. Done something to stop it.”

“Doll, I don’t understand. You did everything you could, and I’m gonna look at you the same way I did before. Like you’re fuckin’ beautiful. Like you’re amazing, and the most gorgeous woman in the world, because that’s exactly how I still see you. How I’ll always see you. I’m gonna look at you like you’re so goddamn strong because with everythin’ that happened to you, you survived. And I’m gonna look at you like I love you, because I do. God, Ember. I love you so much, it fuckin’ hurts.”

Her blue-green eyes finally lift to my face. And it’s as if an ocean breeze fills my chest. The elation I feel is indescribable.

“You love me?”

Smiling and ignoring the tear traveling down my own face, I kiss her quickly on the lips, and say, “Yeah, I do.”

Her lashes flutter and draw down. “I keep thinking, if I’d just taken off your necklace, then maybe he wouldn’t have done it—marked my back, and did what he did.”

Something heavy worms its way into my gut, filling me with a sick feeling and an awful suspicion. The conversation I had with Doctor Alister comes back to me.

“From what? A belt?”

“Not sure. But I counted thirteen marks on her back and the top of her thighs and if you look closely at her skin there, there’s evidence that this isn’t the first time it’s happened. She also has two bruised ribs, and a contusion on her cheek, but that should heal in a few days. The important thing is that she’s alive. She’s damn lucky the bullet only nicked her liver and passed through like it did.”

“Were there signs of . . .”

A weighty silence falls between us.

“Rape?” he asks.

Crossing my arms, I nod once.

“There’s evidence of rough intercourse recently, but no traces of semen. Rape is harder to determine if the patient is sexually active. Had you two . . .”

Thinking about last night and how rough I was when I took her in my office, I nod again.

Alister says, with all the confidence in the world, “Then let’s hope that’s all it was.”

I expel a relieved breath as he walks out of the room and turns back to stare at Ember sleeping in the bed.

“Are you telling me he raped you?”

“I thought you knew!” The panic in her eyes confirms what I didn’t want to even consider or believe though it was always a possibility. “I thought . . .”

“I didn’t know.” Rising from the bed, heat shoots up my spine. I lace my hands behind my head, and then move them to the back of my neck. “Jesus Christ!” I granted that son of a bitch mercy. I let him off easy and without any pain. When I should’ve ripped the skin from his bones. I grab the bed table and shove it across the room, sending it to crash against the wall.

I turn and almost growl, “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me before I killed him?” But more tears trek down her face.

“Fuck!” I did this. I stare at how broken she is and realize that Warner didn’t break her. I did. I didn’t trust in her, and because I didn’t, she ran. She was shot, raped, and nearly died. And I have no one, not a damn soul, but myself to blame. It was my job to protect her, and I failed her in every way I could.

Half of me wants to go to her. Tell her I don’t blame her, that it’s not her fault, and that this doesn’t change a thing. I still love her. The other half wants to tear apart this room, and this whole fucking hospital.

When her hands cover her face, I go to her. Pull her into my chest and let her cry on my shirt. I kiss her head and whisper those things to her. “This isn’t your fault, baby. I did this. You did nothin’ wrong to deserve this, and it doesn’t change a thing for me. I still love you. Do you hear me, Doll? I love you and we’re gonna make it through this.”

I crawl into the bed with her and hold her until she falls asleep. But minute by minute, the shame mounts, and becomes too much.

Before I leave her, I brush her hair away from her face and kiss her one last time on the temple.

EMBER

I’m startled awake as something moves under my hand and another something lands on top of it. My breath hitches as I open my eyes and see Mav beside my bed. He reeks of alcohol.

I realize that it’s his hand under mine, his forehead pressed to the top of my hand, and he’s kneeling beside the bed.

“Mav?”

“Doll. What can I do?”

“What do you mean?” Using the button, I adjust the bed so I can sit up, because I can’t yet sit up on my own.

In a slightly accented and slurred voice, he asks, “To make this right? How the fuck do I make this right?”

I consider his question for a long time. Is there any way to make it right? We can’t erase what happened. We can’t go back. And Warner’s gone. The memories will probably always be there. Though with time, maybe the nightmares of it will fade.

“I don’t think you can make it right. Nobody can. But maybe one day, it won’t hurt like this.”

Mav fists the blanket. “You say you don’t blame me, but how could you not? I do. I knew who you were, and I never should’ve doubted you.”

Although it pulls at the bandage over my abdomen, I lay my other hand over the back of his head. His coarse hair tickles my palm. “I could’ve tried to explain. But I didn’t, Mav.”

He shakes his head from side to side. “No. You were right. You shouldn’t have had to explain a thing.”

His hand moves over my thigh, squeezes it. “I just hope one day you can forgive me. Not now and maybe not even soon, but one day.”

He looks up at me. I gasp and reach out to touch his face, but then I pull back for fear of causing him more pain. It looks like he’s had enough of it tonight. His face reminds me of what Sundown’s looked like when I first saw her in the back of the SUV. Beaten and swollen.

“What did you do?”

He licks as the cut on his lip and hisses. Then brings a knuckle to the split there and shrugs. “Someone had to pay. Me, Taz, doesn’t matter. Just not you.”

“Taz did that to you?”

He stands, sweeps my bangs away, and leans over and kisses my forehead. “No, Dozer. After I beat the shit out of Taz, Dozer was more than happy to do the same to me.”

For the first time since facing off against Warner, I get angry. I glare up at him and when I do, a smirk tries to split across Mav’s face. Only it ends rapidly with him cursing and touching the back of his hand across his cut lip again.

“Fuck, that hurts. Why are you glaring at me?” The side of his mouth curls.

“No one else needs to get hurt. Do you understand? It’s done.”

“Except for Davis when I find him.”

I try to keep glaring at him, but he has a good point. Finally, I nod once. “Except for Davis.”

He smiles again, and says, “Fuck. Stop making me smile.”

I smile, and then laugh when my response only puts him in more pain, and makes him sound like the biker he is.

Locking eyes with me, he says with all sincerity, “It’s good to see your eyes again, and see you smile.” Then he cups my face and rubs his thumb over my cheek. “I missed you, Doll. Don’t ever go away like that again, okay?”

I nod.

Mav attempts to fight off his grin. He turns and strides to the couch that he’s used for the last two weeks as a bed.

“So I just have one question.”

He throws the pillow down on one side of the couch. He twists to look at me. “What’s that?”

“You said Lil’ would give me food poisoning in a week. But does that mean you hired a nurse and a cook?”

“No, just a nurse.” He picks up the blanket, then pauses with it in his hands, turns and shakes his head. “I know what you’re getting at. You and that smart-ass mouth of yours.”

Biting my lip, I raise an eyebrow.

He turns back around and shakes his blanket over the couch. He grumbles something that I don’t catch.

“What was that?”

“I’ve been watchin’ some cookin’ shows, and I bought a couple of books.”

Though it feels wrong to feel happy right now, I can’t contain my amusement and curiosity. “Books? On what?”

He takes his cut off and lays it nicely folded in half over a chair. He sits down and starts to take off his boots. Shrugging, he replies, “Cookin’, kids, how to take care of an invalid.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny.”

He smiles then hisses, “Fuck. Would you stop?”

He exhales a deep breath and rubs his hands against his head. He stares at me for a long time before he finally lies down. His arms go behind his head and he looks at the ceiling. He crosses his legs at the foot of the couch.

I smile and push the button to lower me back down. “Good night, Mav.”

It seems like forever before he says, “Night, Doll.” Something he’s done every night without fail these last two weeks.

For a long time, all I can do is think of him, and listen to his breathing, even after it becomes deep with sleep. For the first time when I close my eyes, horrific images don’t consume my thoughts, and no nightmares take over my dreams.

Certain people are a part of our lives because that is exactly where God wants them to be.

MAVERICK

In anticipation of Ember and Will coming to live with me, I moved my bed from the master bedroom into one of the spare bedrooms, and I set up two new adjustable twin beds side by side in the master. Ember, and most likely Will, will be spending a lot of time in there and in bed, so I bought an entertainment center, a new 42 inch TV, and everything I could think of to help them pass the time in comfort.

I didn’t really know how to approach getting to know Will. So far, she’s treated me like Ember did. She knew I was there when she visited the hospital nearly every day. But besides a few wary glances here and there, she ignored my presence too.

Bethany told me to take it slow with her and to not overwhelm her. Will was already having a hard time, and what she really needed right now was to feel safe and have some stability. She also said her and Ember would need time alone together and time to heal. She warned me it would be natural for Will not to want to sleep alone in a strange house.

I kept everything she said in mind over the next few months.

The first month that we all lived together was a true test of whether Ember, Will, and I could survive in one house long term.

Going into it, I definitely didn’t realize all that I signed up for, and I don’t think Ember realized how much she would have to depend on me. Will simply clung to the person she trusted the most and followed Ember’s lead.

It was an eye opening experience for us all; although, it also felt like some kind of science experiment.

We had a few fires and visits from the fire department, my fault—two floods and a broken Blu-ray player, Will’s—and Ember had a couple of meltdowns from being confined to a bed. She reinjured herself twice thinking she could move around and shower without needing help.

As far as education went, I learned lots over those first four weeks. I learned about SpongeBob and the Backyardigans. I learned about bath time and that on the second read through of a book, Will usually fell asleep. I also learned five-year-olds need to be entertained every hour they’re awake, and when you promise you’ll do something, they will hold you to it. I learned that both of them loved music; music that sometimes hurt my ears to listen to. I learned that half of my vocabulary earned me a glare from Ember, which always made me hard so I slipped up on purpose here and there. I learned clutter and living in a mess drove Ember a little crazy, and she hated being helpless. I learned that the only cure for nightmares was to be held by someone you felt safe with, Ember for Will, and me for Ember. I learned they both had certain moods, that once identified, I needed to stay clear. I learned Ember hates tuna fish and pickles, and Will hates about eighty percent of all vegetables, which I guess is common for kids her age, and she despises spaghetti. She even has a song she sings about how she hates “pahsgetti” and she’s not going to eat it.

The first time she sang it and pushed her plate away, Ember laughed like I’d never heard her laugh before, full out and with a blindingly beautiful smile. I realized pretty quick that she wasn’t laughing because of the song; after all, she’d heard it before. She was laughing at my frozen what-in-the-ever-lovin’-fuck expression.

In month two of living together, I saw more of her smiles, Will’s too, and heard more of their laughs. We fell into a routine. I woke early and worked, and when Will woke, she snuck into my office and stole some papers and supplies. We took a break a little later and ate cereal, because Ember no longer trusted me to cook while she slept. Then we got back to work. When Will was in a listening mood, I taught her about art. When she wasn’t, we worked together in silence. After she finished a drawing, she would show it to me, get her due praise, and then put her hand over her lips, letting me know that I was again sworn to secrecy. Then she’d slide it into the cardboard tube I’d given her to keep them all safe.

At ten, we woke Ember and she got them both ready for the day. Then Will watched cartoons and Ember studied for her GED. She was almost back to her old self except that she moved cautiously, and couldn’t lift anything heavy.

I either went back to work, took care of things I needed to around the house, cleaning, laundry, the yard, or I headed to the clubhouse. I visited the club often because it was getting harder and harder to be around Ember without wanting more. And she wasn’t ready for more, so I gave her the time she needed and distracted myself.

There were times I’d catch her looking at me with heat in her eyes, but fear was still there too. So I stole a peck when I could, and I touched her some when Will wasn’t looking, but it was nothing close to what I hungered for.

At night, Em would cook dinner, and we’d watch either TV or a movie. Then it would be bath time and bedtime for Will. Since I didn’t feel comfortable helping with bath time, I offered every now and again to read until Will fell asleep. Most nights she wanted only Ember, but every so often, she’d grab my hand and a book and demand that I get to it.

Sunny came and went. She had moved in with Smoke after she was discharged from the hospital. They lived in Los Lunas, which was only ten or so minutes away. However, there were nights and days where she showed up out of the blue and spend a few days with us. No notice. No explanation. Every time she left without asking to take Will with her, I found myself saying a silent prayer.

I did that for two reasons. I didn’t know how I was going to mend Ember if Will was taken from her again, and honestly I didn’t want to see her go.

Will made life more interesting. Her laugh wasn’t something you could listen to without it bringing a smile to your face. She made art new and fun again. She had an obsession with bubble baths, and I could never contain my laugh when she’d spit water at Ember like she was a dolphin. Or when she hung a bubble beard from her chin and talked like good ol’ Uncle Griz. It was fuckin’ hilarious.

One time I even caught her playing dress up with not only my cut, but also my boots on her feet, my helmet on her head, and she was sitting on the laundry basket sliding across the kitchen floor and making a funny noise with her lips.

To say it was the cutest fuckin’ thing I’d ever see would be an understatement.

Honestly, I’d gotten used to having them both in my life. Every morning, I couldn’t wait to see what new thing I’d learn about them that day, and watching them dance together was becoming my new favorite pass time. Even if it was to No Doubt’s “Spiderwebs.”

It wasn’t until right around Thanksgiving our little routine was shaken up. And not only because I brought home one of the pups Donut had sired, but also because Sunny delivered some news that changed everything.

This particular time she handed Ember an envelope on her way out the door.

At first, I didn’t know what it contained, only that whatever it said caused Ember to clutch her chest, and erupt in tears. Then she lay her palm over her mouth and smiled through her sadness.

I didn’t press Ember for details. I knew she’d tell me when she was ready. So for the rest of the day, I hoped for the best, and dreaded the worst.

That night after I finished reading her passages from Jeremiah, and laid my Bible on the nightstand, she pulled those same papers from under her pillow and handed them to me.

I read the entire thing. They were legal documents signed by a judge granting Ember guardianship and custody of Will.

When I looked up after being lost in my thoughts for a moment, Ember was crying, but also fighting a smile. I pulled her against my chest and ran my hand up and down her back.

Kissing her forehead, I ask, “Does it feel like the right thing?”

“Yes. But I don’t understand how she can do it. If she was mine, I’d never give her up.”

“And that’s why she’s yours.”

“But what do I say to Will?”

“Tell her Sunny loved her enough to make sure she was safe and with someone who would always love and take care of her. That she’s right where she’s supposed to be.”

That you both are . . .