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22
Of all the stupid, moronic things in the world, Amber couldn’t believe that Mountain had been shot over some guns. Was that how she was able to make so damn much money in a clinic? The money supplemented and carried out by the same group of men that saved women? When the men came in and explained to Red what happened out there, it was too much for her to take.
First time, twentieth or thousandth she couldn’t be with a man a second from being arrested all the time. The anxiety and destruction to her family was too much. Sure, riding snowmobiles in the winter and bikes in the summer was fun, but those moments would flitter away when he rolled out solo. In what world would he think she’d agree to that?
She didn’t want to live in a club if this was how they were going to handle business. Mountain said he lifted things and worked construction. Not sold guns. It just wasn’t possible.
Packing up several boxes, she had decided it was time to move. While she liked her job at the clinic and wanted to stay there, she wasn’t sure she could she work for a club of members that did illegal things. Strippers, fine. Kidnapping on occasion because the father was dangerous and it was only kidnapping because he had rights. Much like Kevin, the right to keep her from moving to Colorado where there were more jobs and Callum would be close to a specialist.
When she got home the night of the shooting, she’d contacted her real estate agent. Who knew the market was booming? She said the house would sell in a couple of days of being put on the market and Amber thought it was a sign she needed to get away. Only where did that leave her? Back in Billings?
For the first time, Kevin was accepting she wouldn’t be back with him and now, leaving Mountain behind? would return to the fruitless pursuit of he’d touched her? so she was his?
Red and Roadkill had both called. Seeing if she would be coming in and updating her on Mountain’s status. The stitches were holding and his pressures and counts were good. She had hung the last bag of blood he needed, it seemed. All of it positive, but she wasn’t sure stepping into the clinic would be good for her. Too many memories created in only a handful of days. What would happen if she worked there a month? A year? The pace was worse than Friday the thirteenth when the moon was full and shots were a dollar at every bar in the city.
Pulling out her phone, she had meant to revisit job responses in her email, only to find herself opening her photos app. Several pictures of her and Mountain. Worse, Mountain and the kids. The night of the party, she had taken several pictures him Mountain playing with the kids. He was so good with them it was hard to tell who was having more fun.
Maisie walked into the living room where she was packing. “Mommy, why hasn’t Mountain come by? He needs to sign my cast.”
“He’s been busy. Maybe he’ll come over next week.” Amber hadn’t answered any of his calls since the shooting and she refused to allow herself to read any texts. Thanks to Red, she knew he had gone home from the clinic and was convalescing at the clubhouse.
Roadkill hoped it would at least get her to coming into work and maybe tomorrow, it would. The lax clinic was giving her space, but Amber knew the reality of her situation. She needed money and needed a job, so she could purchase a home. Somewhere she and the kids could live without the craziness of the club. If only her heart was in the same place as her head. The club was a family and when she took the job at the clinic, Red said if she and Mountain went south, he would make sure he stayed away. Maybe she could stay at the clinic for a little bit longer. Rent a house in Turnabout and use the sale of her house in Berrington to fund a real move.
“Mountain really worried about me.” Maisie played with her cast on her arm. “Is it wrong that he worried more than Daddy did?”
“Your Daddy worried,” Amber assured her, even if the words were a bitter lie on her tongue. Distracted by not being able to go on a date because his daughter was having a meltdown, Kevin actually believed he could push it back and drop his kids with her and finish his night. “Once he realized what was going on.”
“But Mountain let me sit on his lap when Dr. Luke had do the pop thing with my wrist.” Maisie chewed on her lower lip. “And I could squeeze his hand as hard as I wanted to and he didn’t even say anything. I know Daddy loves me, but sometimes…”
“Sometimes what, baby?” Amber asked.
Maisie reached for the phone and smiled at the picture of her, Callum and Spot passed out in Mountain’s bed. “I think Daddy doesn’t think of me if I don’t remind him I’m here,” she said.
Amber’s heart tightened as acid burned up her throat.
“But Mountain,” Maisie continued. “Well, I think he thinks of me all the time.”
“You do huh?” Amber said taking the phone and stroking her daughter’s hair. “Why’s that?”
“I dunno know?” she replied with a shrug. “Maybe cuz, he doesn’t tell me to be quiet and even when I was being mean, he didn’t tell me to stop. He just kept being my friend.”
“Ah, so you admit you were being mean to him, then,” Amber said.
“I wanna still see my Daddy,” Maisie replied not agreeing to the comment.
“Of course.”
“But I wanna see Mountain too.” She turned her eyes toward Amber. “I think you should call him and tell him to come over?”
“You know how you got hurt,” Amber tried to explain, but the two were vastly different.
“Uh, huh,” Maisie said as she pressed on the fingernails of hand in the cast as if she were testing capillary refill. A nervous habit she’d picked up since the accident.
“He got hurt too,” Amber replied. “And his hurt makes it harder for him to travel.”
“Then can we go see him?” Maisie asked. “I liked that lots of his friends came to say hi to me at the clinic. It made my heart happy. Like when they all came for Callum and got lemonade.”
“That’s an idea. Maybe I will call him and see what he’s doing for dinner.” Amber picked up the phone once again and on the screen was a picture of Mountain holding Callum on his lap.
