Chapter 11: Chapter 11

Swan Creek wasn’t the ideal place to spend a weekend, let alone a lifetime. But Gabby committed herself to the lengthy bi-weekly trip, not out of love, but out of duty because, while she could leave anytime she wanted, the man lying in the hospital bed before her didn’t have the same luxury.

Shane Allen had fallen in with the wrong crowd and, because of her, had ended up with a lifetime sentence of being trapped in a body no longer able to function without the help of machines and a qualified nursing staff.

Giving up a couple days each month was the least she could do. She considered it penance for the bad choices she’d made in life.

“I didn’t think I’d make it through the first week, but the kids are pretty great. They remind me of you in a way, all that energy. Zipping back and forth, always on the go.” She’d spent the last hour telling him about her new role as a teacher while giving him his sponge bath and a fresh change of clothes.

“I know you don’t agree, but I can’t keep living my life on the run. That’s not living.” Buttoning the last button on the new flannel pajama top she’d purchased for him, Gabby stood back to admire the view. “There, now don’t you look handsome.”

Expressive, shale blue eyes met hers and seemed to call her a liar. Shane’s body, though once tall and thick with muscle, had withered away into the thin, frail man who served as a constant reminder of her guilt.

Sadness threatened to swamp her, so Gabby did what she always did when she felt like the world was closing in on her: she enlisted a nurse to help her transfer Shane into his wheelchair then rolled him outside to enjoy a dose of fresh air.

The courtyard was nothing more than a circular space covered in grass and surrounded by the pentagonal-shaped building on all sides. Sidewalk stretched from four separate exits, converging in the middle where a wooden pergola sat waiting for visitors.

Gabby wheeled Shane inside where they could escape the sun and still enjoy the weather. Taking a seat on one of the built-in benches, she pulled him up close before digging through her purse and pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

Shane’s gaze tracked her every move as she placed a stick between her lips and cupped her hand to shield the flame while she lit it. Drawing the smoke into her mouth, she was careful not to inhale. Her eyes stung as it drifted back out, and she placed the burning stick between his dry, chapped lips. “I’ll never understand why you like these things so much. You know they’ll kill you, right?”

Grunting, Shane gave her a narrow-eyed look that seemed to say Why do you think I do it? She got it. She really did. If the tables were reversed, she’d probably feel the same way. Going from someone who’d once been strong and athletic, a man who took his freedom into both capable hands and ran with it every day of his life, only to be reduced to this—a man trapped in the shell of a body unable to function without help—was unimaginable.

But here he was. And it was all his fault.

“I wish you’d never gotten involved with that man,” Gabby murmured as she looked out across the lawn where a couple of birds pecked holes in the dirt. “What they did to you…to me…I’ll never forget that night.” Her voice shook and she swallowed hard, forcing the lump in her throat back down. The past wasn’t pretty. It was hideous. If only she could go back, have a do-over, she’d change everything. Do it all different.

But the past was written in stone, the damages forever etching their futures in misery and pain. They were just lucky to have gotten out with their lives.

Although Shane probably had a different opinion on that.

Shane grunted again, and she looked up to find him staring intently back at her. The words he couldn’t speak shone in the brightness of his eyes, and Gabby leaned forward to clasp his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m getting all emotional.” She gave him a lopsided smile and sucked in a breath. “I won’t bring it up again. Promise.”

Her thoughts turning toward Blake, Gabby briefly considered telling Shane about that new development in her life, but quickly thought better of it. It would be cruel to tell him about all the good things happening to her, how she was moving on to bigger and better things, meeting new people, when all he could do was sit there and listen.

Shane’s life, or what was left of it, was essentially over.

It saddened Gabby to no end, but she had to remind herself that she wasn’t the one who put him in that chair. She wasn’t the one who stripped away his life and any potential of one. She was just a pawn, and she had the scars to prove it.

After he’d burned through two more cigarettes, Gabby took Shane back inside and got him settled in his room before promising to return the same time next week. As she pulled away and looked back at the fading building in her rearview mirror, she couldn’t help the overwhelming sense of relief that washed over her. Every time she left that place, she felt as if she were escaping from prison. A great weight lifted from her shoulders, coloring the road ahead in the brilliance of freedom and endless possibilities.

At least until the next visit.

***

“A nursing home?” Blake stared at the phone in his hand, his brows drawn low over his eyes as he thumbed through the catalogue of pictures again—a little side project Blake had Country working on after church let out earlier that morning.

Shrugging, Country flattened his hand out on the table and leaned back in his chair, kicking his left ankle up to rest on his right knee. “She went in around noon and left just before three.”

“What the hell would she be at a nursing home for? Especially one over twenty miles away.”

“Visiting a grandparent. Volunteering. The woman reads like the saintly type. Wouldn’t put it past her.”

“You didn’t go in?” Blake already knew the answer. He’d specifically told Country to stay outside. Observe. As a former military man, it was ingrained in him to follow direction and to date, he’d never failed to follow a command, and he always did it to the letter.

“You know I didn’t.”

Nodding, Blake handed the phone back. Aside from looking like a wet dream in a modest floral sundress, the pictures of Gabby told him zilch, but damned if he didn’t want to know what she was doing there. Could be completely innocent, like Country said, or could be that she was hiding something. He wouldn’t know until he asked her. Or went in himself to find out.

Tucking the phone in his back pocket, Country’s intense eyes stared him down. “So, ya gonna tell me what this is all about?”

“Nope.”

“She do somethin’ wrong? Piss ya off?”

“Not yet.”

“You want me to stay on her?”

That was the million-dollar question. Did Blake have reason to keep tabs on Gabby? A crazy ex-girlfriend said he did. Whether or not Gabby was hiding something, the fact still remained that Jodi was the type of bitch to cause trouble. If she got wind that he was interested in another woman, there’d be no limit to the amount of trouble she’d cause, which meant he needed to be proactive. Plus, Blake was the suspicious type, even more so now that he had Jodi to reference and a little boy to protect. So, if Gabby had something to hide, he needed to know about it.

“I’ll let you know.” Meeting his gaze, Blake said, “In the meantime, keep your eyes and ears open when you and Taco are on patrol tonight. The earlier the better.” Even though things were quiet, he wanted to make sure it stayed that way, and the only way to do that was to keep vigil over the town morning, noon, and night. Especially with Cruiz setting up shop nearby. That piece of shit was going to be a problem. It wasn’t a matter of if, but when.

It was driving Blake crazy wondering when and where Cruiz and his men were going to show up in his territory. A man like him played it smart, cool. Start small and work your way up…fast.

“You got it, Prez. Anything else you want me to take care of before I head out?”

Blake cocked a brow. “Why, you got somewhere to be?”

Country smirked. “Got me a nice piece waiting. Thought I’d break her in before heading out tonight.”

“If it’s something you picked up ‘round here, I doubt you need to waste the time.”

“She’s new,” Country informed him as he pulled to his feet and ran his fingers through his hair. “Figure I’d show her a few things before the brothers get ahold of her. Leave an impression.”

Blake followed him to the door. “Better watch yourself with that one. Fresh meat has a way of sticking to the first surface it touches.”

“Thanks for the advice, Prez, but I think I got a handle on it.”

Clapping him on the shoulder, Blake gave Country a nod, and they split off in opposite directions. To each his own as far as he was concerned. Country was a big boy, and Blake already had a boy at home to tend to without taking on another. Besides, who was he to talk? No sooner was he unattached did he find something else to attach himself to.

He was nearly as bad as the house bunnies.

Striding across the clubhouse’s main floor, Blake made his way over to the bar where his VP, Garrick Stone—or Repo—took up occupancy and looked as if he’d been there a long time. Both arms folded on the counter, he leaned forward, his shoulders bunching around his ears, and if the way Ginger was smiling at him from behind the counter was any indication, he was sweet talkin’ his way into her pants.

Wouldn’t be a first.

Approaching from behind, Blake gave Ginger a nod and clapped a hand on Repo’s shoulder as he claimed the stool beside him. “I see you’ve started early.”

Pale blue, nearly white eyes that seemed to glow, cut to Blake. They were unsettling, those eyes, and made him question once again why they didn’t call him Ice instead. Snow white hair and a full beard only exacerbated the situation, and Blake knew he was a lucky sonofabitch to be on his good side.

“Five o’clock somewhere,” Repo grunted.

Indeed. “You gonna be solid later?” They’d been working on rebuilding an old Harley together, and the last thing Blake wanted was to find himself missing an appendage because his VP was too shitfaced to handle a wrench.

“As a rock.”

Flattening her hands on the counter, Ginger propped herself between the two men, the position pressing her ample breasts up and out. Her smile was sweet if not inviting. It was that way for everyone. Ginger was an equal opportunity slut, but being that her old man, Hawke, had discarded her a few years back because she refused to put up with his extracurricular activities, the brothers had developed a bit of a soft spot for her—a soft spot Blake had always harbored since she’d been his first. “You want anything while I’m back here, Prez?”

Her voice was a seductive purr. Blake flashed Ginger a friendly smile. “No thanks, Momma. I’m ridin’ today.”

Her eyes flashed and her smile tipped up another notch despite the perpetual sad look in her eyes. “You sure?”

The invitation was there for the taking, but Blake had already traveled that road. Besides, he had his eyes on something much sweeter. “Seems you already have plans with this one,” he said with a jerk of his chin.

Repo’s hard gaze was fixed on Ginger, and it didn’t take a genius to realize he was pissed over the slight. Seemed as though Ginger had an ass whippin’ in her near future. Looking between the two, though, and witnessing their heated, unspoken exchange, Blake didn’t think that was going to be an issue.

Snorting a laugh, Blake gave up and stood. “I’m going to leave you two to relieve the tension y’all have buildin’ up in here. When you’re done, Repo, see your way over to my place.”

Repo gave Blake a two-finger salute, then went back to staring down his prized catch. Blake shook his head as he walked out the door. Why those two didn’t just make it official was beyond him. Ginger might be the mother hen of the house, and maybe she’d taken a few turns with all the brothers, but she wasn’t much older than any of them, and she was as sweet as she was feisty. She’d make any one of the brothers a good ol’ lady, but Repo might just be the only one to appreciate what she was offering. Lord knew Blake had tried to snuff out the torch she carried for him too many times to count, but it seemed no matter how hard he tried, Ginger either wouldn’t or couldn’t let the past die. If she could learn to accept that she and Blake were never gonna happen, she might just find herself happy with a man who could give her everything she’d been looking for. Blake had a feeling Repo might be that man.

Slinging his leg over his bike, Blake put the topic to bed as he tucked the helmet over his head, held his hand up to a couple of the brothers passing by on their way inside the clubhouse, then sped out with thoughts of a certain teacher on his mind.