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I finger the rosary I keep buried in my pocket, the one myabuelagave me as a child. This kid may not have been my family, but he is now. And a fucking gunshot wound…it hits to close to home with what happened with my parents.
Esteban had sent a group of men to kill my parents and, for whatever reason, I was left unharmed. Maybe because I was an infant and posed no threat is the only reason I’m alive today. Obviously, I have no memory of that moment, but I was an active SEAL for ten years. I’ve seen what a gun can do to a body. I can only imagine how horrible my parents’ deaths were.
Leaving the chapel, I return to Tom’s room. I look at his family holding each other as they pray for his life. A pang in my heart has me palming my chest. I never had what Tom has. I never had parents to worry about me. I had myabuela,and I’m grateful to have had her, but no family. I was robbed of them.
The more I watch the Guthrie family, the more morose I become. I can’t exactly relate to what they’re feeling but I do know what loss can do to you and your loved ones. I’ve seen it with the families of the men who lost their lives fighting beside me for our country. I’d witnessed it every day I grew up with myabuelaand hearing her cry her nighttime prayers, pleading with God to let my parents be at peace. And again, I’m experiencing it watching this family hurting over a kid I failed protecting.
Fuck.I need my woman. I need to breathe her in and hold her in my arms to know she’s safe and with me. Is it selfish to call her and thrust her into this? What if she’s not ready to deal with my emotions? I’m not sure if I can wait any longer—maybe I’m the one who needs comfort.
I quickly leave Tom’s room to pull my cell from my cut and dial her.
“Maceo!”
I look up and see Josephine flat-out sprinting down the hospital corridor toward me.
She’s here.
She’s here, and I hadn’t even called her. She knew I needed her before I was aware I needed her. Punk must have told her what happened and where I was.
Unable to hold in my emotions in any longer, I choke on my own tears. She crashes into my chest, where I cage her in my arms, holding her like my existence depends on her.
“Pixie,” I cry into her hair.
“I’ve got you,” she whispers against my chest. And she does, shereallydoes.
Here I am this retired Navy SEAL biker, and I need the comfort of this pint-size pipsqueak. I should feel embarrassed, but I don’t.
Suddenly, it hits me. This is how it’s supposed to be. We need to be each other’s support system, to be there for each other when shit gets rough and ugly. I’ve always assumed my part was to play the dominant role of protector and supporter, but I was wrong. It has to be equal on all fronts. My woman already seems to grasp this, and here I am, only catching on now. Better late than never, I suppose.
I hold her and let her soothe me with gentle words of comfort, absorbing her love with every touch. This woman is my everything. My life. My heart. My soul. And I’m hers.
Fuck, but if that doesn’t give me strength and hope, then nothing will.
* * *
Tom hasn’t woken when we leave late in the evening. Brass took over watch at the hospital, letting Gauge, Josephine, and I head home for some rest.
The mood is somber when we enter the headquarters. Everyone is lounging around the gathering area, waiting for any updates. Punk brought Hades home. He runs to us when we enter the house, rubbing his massive head against our legs. He knows something horrible has happened, and he wants to comfort us.
Josephine was my rock at the hospital, but now that we’re back home, she’s crashing hard. Between her sister’s arrival, removing her IUD, working long hours on Lloyd’s build, and comforting me for several more hours at the hospital, she is sore and exhausted. I want to pull my woman upstairs to our bed and curl around her, but Chase catches my attention. He nods for me to follow him.
Reluctantly, I release her hand and let her sink into the couch between Opal and Punk. Gauge gives Opal a quick kiss before following me back to Chase’s lair.
“Do you have an update on the shooter?” I ask once we reach the room.
“Negative. Butch is still working on it. Ziggy is going through the rest of the security footage, putting names to faces. He’s nearly done. There’s something I need to bring to your attention and you’re not going to be happy,” Chase says.
Great. More bad news.“What is it?”
“It’s Esteban. He’s in the country. FBI is hot on his heels, but he was last spotted in Nevada heading east.”
“Fuck!” I shout. I flip one of the fancy computer chairs Josephine bought for the room.
Gauge runs a hand through his hair. “It can only mean he’s making his way to Colorado.”
And heading right for us.
Aside from my personal vendetta to take out the man who murdered my family, my crew and I have been actively hunting him. We’ve done numerous drug busts on his operations in the states to make him pissed alone. The latest plot of his we foiled was when he abducted the governor’s daughter. We were hired by the state to go into South America and recover her. We not only rescued the kid being ransomed, but saved the governor from signing off on a bill making it easier for illegal drugs to come into the state.
