Page 103 of Protected by the Biker (Grim Reaper MC)
“Heading out,” I said, in no mood for a joke anymore.
“Pussy! How many of these have you had? Like two? Do you need a bucket to throw up in?” it was Sniper again and this time, I couldn’t help but glare at him. He had no idea what he was talking about.
“Yeah, Hunter, what’s with the two beers and scram?” Glock asked with a laugh and I glared at him too. I clenched my jaw, debating whether to bash their heads in or tell them what was going on with Marco.
“I have some business to take care of,” I said instead.
“Hunter has a woman on the side. Nobody tell Jessica or the claws will come out,” Tank said, uncharacteristically, because he was a man of few words, without a funny bone in his body. Clearly, he too had too much to drink.
“Yeah, just don’t tell Jessica,” I said, half-grinning at them; letting them believe that this was about some chick. I didn’t need them ragging on me about taking care of some dude, even if he was my best friend.
I walked out of the bar, fixing my helmet on as I headed towards my Harley. Helping my best friend off his toilet floor and throwing his piss-covered pajamas in the wash, was not how I had imagined this night to turn out. But what other choice did I have? Marco’s family wasn’t really in the picture any more. His mom was in rehab and his dad had left them a long time ago. I was pretty much all Marco had left. Marco relied on me and I believed in friendship, just like I believed in the brotherhood of the MC. There was nothing more important to me in my life than loyalty. No matter what it took.
***
Jiggling the key in Marco’s door, I banged it shut to announce my arrival.
“In here!” he yelled out to me, even though I knew exactly where his toilet was. I went in there, to find Marco lying face down on the toilet floor, mere inches away from his wheelchair.
“Now you’ve seen it all,” he said, with his face turned to the wall. I eased the leather jacket off my shoulders and hung it on the hooks behind his door.
“I can assure you man, I haven’t nearly seen as much as you have,” I said to him, placing my hands firmly on the backs of his shoulders.
“I just need to be lifted on the wheelchair and you can go back to drinking with the guys,” I heard him say. He was back to being in a sour mood, and I didn’t hold that against him. I had no idea what it would be like to go through what he was.
I didn’t reply to him, instead I tucked a hand under one of his armpits and with the other on his shoulder still, I began to haul him up.
“I got you,” I mumbled under my breath, as I lifted him up and then placed him back on the wheelchair. As gentle as I was trying to be with him, he fell on it with a thud. Marco muffled a wince that I knew he was hiding.
He was in his pajamas and I averted my eyes from the wet patch on his crotch.
“Go ahead and look, Hunter. I don’t have anything to hide anymore. I’m that guy who pisses himself,” he growled under his breath, and ignoring him, I started wheeling him out of the toilet.
In his dark bedroom, I switched on the lights and then started rummaging through his closest for a fresh pair of pajamas.
“Put this one on,” I threw it to him, and I could see that he had a look of sheer embarrassment in his eyes. “I’m gonna go grab us some beers,” I said, my voice trailing behind me as I left the room.
In the kitchen, I opened two bottles of beer that Marco had in his bare fridge, and I brought it back to the bedroom. He had just about managed to pull the fresh pair of pajamas up his legs when I walked in.
“You don’t have to stay. You can go back to the bar,” Marco insisted, in a softer voice now and I handed his beer to him. Then, picking his wet pajamas off the floor, I walked over to the washing machine in the closet outside.
I couldn’t help but imagine what the guys would say if they knew that I was just putting a piss covered pair of pajamas in the wash; while they were under the assumption that I had some chick thrown over my bike, banging her from behind.
When I went back into the bedroom, Marco had already gulped down half his bottle of beer.
“I could have done that myself,” he said, in a dry voice, narrowing his eyes at me.
“I know you could have. But I did it instead,” I said and went over and sat down on the edge of his bed. We drank our beers in silence for a while, because tonight, we had broken a barrier in our friendship that we couldn’t ever retreat from.
“Hunter, hey man, I know I should thank you. You didn’t have to do all this,” Marco said and when I looked at him, I saw him staring at his beer instead of looking at me.
“You’re welcome, but you don’t need to thank me. I just want you to keep calling me when you need my help,” I said and he nodded his head.
“Looks like I don’t have a choice,” he replied and we sank into silence again. I didn’t even know that I was capable of these things that I was doing for him. It felt like around my crippled friend, I was a completely different guy. Someone I didn’t even recognize.
“Stop me if you don’t want to hear this,” I blurted out and he looked up at me with a jerk. “But maybe we should get you some help,” I added and we were staring at each other. I knew Marco. I knew how prideful he was. Asking for help, even from me, was a huge deal for him.
“What are you talking about?” he said and I shrugged my shoulders.
“Well, can’t the VA do something for you? Like give you some physical therapy sessions? Anything to make your life easier?” I continued and Marco’s gaze turned into a glare. I knew I had stepped too far. He didn’t want to hear this right now. Then his shoulders sagged, and a diffused glow entered his eyes.
He looked down at his bottle again.
“Yeah, I think they can,” he said, in a quieter voice. I had to be careful now, proceed with caution. I knew that if I pushed him too hard, he wouldn’t want to do it, but then again, I didn’t have a choice. He needed that extra help to help him start to feel normal again.
“Good. I’ll take you then. Tomorrow. Let’s just go check the place out,” I said to him, making my voice sound as casual as I possibly could. If Marco agreed to go, it would be a huge step for him and I knew it would be for the best.
“Fuck it. Yeah, why not!” he said and then with a forced smile on his face, he chugged down some more of the beer. I could easily tell his excitement was sarcastic, but at least he was agreeing to go.
“Besides, the VA might be the only place where I get to score some action these days,” he added with a laugh and I laughed too. Every second that Marco wasn’t steeped in depression was a win for me. There was nothing more that I wanted now, than for me to get
my friend back and thankfully, I was beginning to see some sparks of him returning.
CHAPTER 2
Kylie
I was filling out a form at the reception counter, and with my blonde curls falling over my eyes; I realized that my hair was a mess. I hadn’t really had the time to do much about my hair other than tie it up in a bun and hope that it stayed in place for the rest of the day.
In the glass partition behind the counter, I glanced at my fuzzy reflection. Even through the blur, I could tell that I looked tired. I’d been working fourteen hour shifts for the past week, covering for a colleague since there were only three of us trained physical therapists at the VA. Besides, I could really do with the overtime.
Nobody told me that being a single mom would involve responsibilities that I wouldn’t be prepared for. In fairness, I was only twenty-three when I got pregnant with Carter. I was too young, and I thought I was in love, and I believed Tony was the man for me. So even if anyone was giving me advice back then, I wasn’t really listening.
Now, three years later, I had a growing child who needed day care so that I could work and provide for him. And Tony…the farther I could stay away from him, the better it would be for me and Carter’s safety. Being a single mom was never a part of the plan, but this was the reality of my situation.
Thankfully, I had already earned my degree in physical therapy before I got pregnant. Which meant that at the very least, I could earn a decent amount of money to care for Carter. However, it was still a struggle with juggling day care and work. I was trying to make the best of a bad situation and make sure that my son grew up in relative comfort.
In the reflection, I could see how tired my green eyes looked, how messy my tight blonde curls were but if I was being honest with myself, I had stopped caring about my appearance three years ago. My sole focus was Carter and his well-being.
