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“Very fucking funny.” We shared another laugh as we drove through the desert. And more fucking desert. Sometime early this morning we’d finally put New Mexico in our rear view and spent most of the day pushing the air-condition less truck through Arizona.
But Stitch was feeling antsy again like a goddamn kid on a long ass road trip. I knew he had something to say but I decided to wait him out because I didn’t want to fucking talk anymore, I just wanted to get home and see my kid sister. “You can’t blame Marisol for this, Gunnar. It wasn’t her fucking fault.”
“Never said it was.” Yeah, I’d been an asshole about this thing from the beginning but goddamn, the kid could’ve gotten us killed.
“You didn’t,” he conceded but his angry undertone was unmistakable. “Not in those exact words but I know you blame her. She came all the way down to Mayhem to warn me that Carlito knew about us and that’s when she told me who he was.” Stitch raked a hand through his long hair, which he’d finally combed thanks to the money Vivi wired us as soon as we crossed the border into the U.S. and we stopped at a drugstore to buy some shit to get cleaned up.
“Like I said, I don’t blame her. I blame you.”
“Fuck you, Gunnar!” His fist came down hard on the dashboard. “I can fuck whoever I choose. I don’t see you giving shit to Lasso or Savior, who literally brought trouble to our fucking doorstep. You haven’t even been around and now all you do is bitch and complain.”
He wasn’t wrong. Losing my mom hadn’t been some big loss for me. She’d barely been a parent to me at all. Hell I was more of a parent to her, picking her up after her latest bender, washing her off and getting her to bed. At least until I figured fighting in wars started by rich men was a way out. But finding out about Maisie had changed my perspective on a lot of shit, especially club shit. I loved my brothers but the constant shit storm was taking its toll. “Yeah well, tough fucking shit, kid.”
“I suppose you’ve never fucked a chick only to find out later that she had a kid or a husband or a warrant for her arrest? Excuse me, you perfect asshole.”
“I have a fucking kid to think about, Stitch!” Maisie was all that mattered to me and keeping her safe was my top priority even above the Reckless Bastards MC.
“So fucking what? Lasso has a kid, Max has two and Golden Boy has a kid. Fuck, even Cross has a soon-to-be stepson and none of them are full-time pricks like you.” He shook his head and turned to the window. “Fine, Gunnar, it’s all my fucking fault. Whatever. How about you stay in Mayhem and I’ll take care of the rest. Asshole.”
“That’s not happenin’,” I told him honestly but Stitch had finally reached his limit. We drove across Arizona and into Nevada in complete silence and that was just fine by me. I hated talking and I hated emotions and right now, because his girl was in danger, Stitch was a big fucking ball of emotions.
The sun had already set by the time we pulled into the MC compound and I was dog fucking tired. My ass was sore and my legs were numb and I was in desperate need of a real meal. And a fucking shower.
The guys—Cross, Max, Savior, Jag, Black, Golden Boy, Lasso and Lex—all came out to greet us. The women were there too, including Vivi who held my smiling kid sister in her arms, Maisie waving one chubby arm my way. That was all I needed and wanted in this moment. “Baby girl,” I said as I approached her.
“Hey big boy, but you should probably call me Vivi since Jag gets all jealous and shit.” Vivi giggled and nuzzled my sister—nuzzled her—making her laugh. Who knew Vivi had such a soft spot?
“Very funny,” I grumbled at her, but unlike the other women, she only grinned at my pissy mood as she handed Maisie over.
“I thought so and Maisie did too, didn’tcha girl?”
“Vivi!” Maisie blabbered out.
“Gunny’s back now so give him a big ol’ hug.” This woman had such a smart mouth and an air of mischief about her that I knew Jag would have his hands full with her. But she’d also taken a big hit for the club, so I ignored the new nickname.
“Gunny!” Maisie’s excited use of the new nickname earned Vivi a glare but she only laughed.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
“Don’t mention it. She’s a sweetheart, unlike her brother. Glad you didn’t get killed out there.”
“Me too,” I told her honestly and held my sister tight. She was almost three years old, talking more each day. Understanding more.
“Gunny stinky.” Nothing like the truth from a child to let you know where you really stand.
“Yeah, thanks baby girl.” Vivi took her back so I could rinse weeks worth of dirt, blood and grime off me because those fucking motel showers barely had a trickle of water in them. The shower was short and hot but it felt damn good and I had to pull myself out of it because we were on a clock and that motherfucker was tickin’.
I was getting too damn old for this shit and more importantly, Maisie deserved more than a life of uncertainty. A life of constant danger. She deserved to have at least one solid and reliable adult in her life and that had to be me. I had no fucking clue if I could be that or how it would look as long as I was part of the MC, but as soon as this cartel bullshit was over, I would have a good long think about it.
“All right, what do we got?” The guys, and Vivi, had all gathered in the game room of the clubhouse but Jag was suspiciously absent. “Where’s Jag?”
“Checking out that truck you came in with. He disabled the GPS,” Cross said, sounding tired as hell. “He’s checking for any other electronic devices. Stitch already filled us in on everything. Glad you’re okay, man.”
Okay was the last goddamn thing I was but that wasn’t the focus right now. “Better now.”
Cross gave a sharp nod and returned to club business. “Vivi and Jag found out quite a bit about Salinas, but anything you can add will help.”
“Not much to say. Carlito is a small but crazy motherfucker and he’s a punk ass bitch. Scares easily when his men aren’t around but his main muscle, Guapo seems loyal as fuck. And violent.” That’s all I had to add and it seemed like Stitch had already provided that info.
