Chapter Twenty-Three
Eric
I banged the last nail into the table leg and stood, trying the sturdiness to see if it would continue to wobble. It was late afternoon, and soon the sun would be setting on another day of productive work on the farm, work that would make me pass out in bed from exhaustion.
That was what I did these days: work my ass into a stupor so I would sleep through the night. Most of the time it didn’t work, but I was getting some more sleep lately, around four hours to be exact.
The table didn’t wobble, and I grinned, slinging the hammer over my shoulder. It had been quite the surprise to find out that my father owned this farm, a fifty-acre piece of land right outside the next town over from Cibolo. It had been an envelope, addressed to me in Grayson’s writing, that had caught my eye when I had arrived back at my place, and at first I didn’t know what to do about it.
So, I had sat on it for a few days, waiting on the fallout of the deaths, one of which I had caused. The Brotherhood was in disarray, with no leader to lead them, and despite the fact I had killed Richard, Jenny had reached out to me to see if I would be interested in leading their cause.
I told her to fuck off.
She hadn’t bothered me since.
I wasn’t a member of the Brotherhood, and I never planned to be. Their ways were wrong, and now that I was free from their grip, I had felt relief like nothing else.
And my father… I didn’t miss him. I thought there would be some measure of grief, some sorrow, but all I felt was relief for his death as well. He was gone. He wouldn’t be pushing me to do his business, to be a person I had never wanted to be. All my life I had wanted to find a sense of belonging, and I was still figuring out where I belonged.
The farm was a good start, though. After I had gotten up enough courage to open the envelope, the deed fell out, along with a bill of sale that was signed by him and papers showing that he had transferred it into my name two months prior.
There was no note, no reasoning behind why he had done it, but it was the answer I had been looking for.
So, I had packed up my shit and moved out here, finding a sense of purpose for the rest of my life. I had plans, plenty of plans, to turn this place around, make it a functional farm. At night I spent my time researching how to get started, and my plan was starting to take shape.
Now, if only I could drum up the courage to face Amy.
I sighed, rubbing my hand over my face. She had seen a side of me that I didn’t like to be, much less see the horror in her eyes. I had killed Richard Baer so that she wouldn’t have to. She must hate me for it. That man had killed her mother, and in a roundabout way nearly killed her father too. I had heard in passing that Grant Travis had made it through his surgeries, which I was glad for. He was the backbone of that family, and Amy would be devastated if she lost her father.
Me, on the other hand… I was glad my father was gone.
After the carnage at the bunker, I had melted into the fray, watching as Amy had gotten her father to the car and both of them out of danger. Only then had I breathed a sigh of relief and circled back to where my father lay, checking to make sure he was indeed dead. There had been no signs of life, nothing to show that he was going to miraculously come back from the dead.
He was gone, and so was Richard Baer.
So, I had helped get the injured Horsemen to medical help, even picking up a few Brotherhood members along the way. What had been decided on the field that day was that both clubs were going to have to learn to co-exist, or the Brotherhood would be snuffed out. Now, whether Jenny was willing to do that in her father’s place, I didn’t know. One thing was for sure, it wasn’t going to be me. I was done, finished, didn’t care if they called me a coward and stripped me of any ranking that I might have held for the Brotherhood.
In his death, my father had given me the best damn present he could have, and it was a chance to start over again.
And I would, with this farm, with or without Amy at my side.
Walking over to the fridge, I pulled out a beer and took off out the back door. One of my favorite things to do lately was watch the sun set in the distance. It calmed me, made me feel like I had done something good in my life and there was another day waiting on the other side. After having been part of two gunfights and shot twice, I felt like I’d better enjoy it before my luck ran out.
Popping the beer, I walked down the path that led to the corral. There weren’t any horses yet, but I planned to have a few and learn how to ride, maybe get into breeding. I had some money, and with no rent to pay for any longer, I was willing to put some money into this place.
But my steps slowed as I realized there was someone standing at the corral, her arms wrapped around one of the posts.
Well, it wasn’t just ‘someone’. It was Amy, and I was shocked as hell that she was here.
I swallowed hard, elated that she was here and curious to know why. God, she was fucking gorgeous, and my cock swelled against the zipper of my jeans, thinking about how much I missed her.
It was more than just physically. I had missed everything about her.
Cautiously, I walked up to her, draping my arms over the top rail of the corral.
“You found me.”
She laughed huskily, continuing to look at the Texas sky, which was awash with colors.
“It wasn’t easy to do so. You hid pretty well.”
“I wasn’t hiding,” I responded, bracing my boot on the lower rail. “How’s your dad?”
“He’s good,” she said with a little laugh. “Well, actually, he’s great. He’s decided to retire.”
“I don’t blame him,” I answered. “A bullet or two will do that to you.”
Amy finally looked over, and my breath ceased to exist as I took in her gorgeous features.
“Is that what it did to you, Eric? Or was it something else?”
I gave her a half shrug.
“Mainly the being shot at. I’m fucking tired of being shot and shot at.”
She arched a brow.
“And?”
“Maybe I just want some peace.”
Amy stared at me a moment longer before turning her attention back to the sunset.
“It’s gorgeous out here. I remember coming out here as a kid.”
So that was how she found me.
“He deeded it over to me before…” I started, unable to continue with the rest of what I was going to say. “He was my father Amy.”
“I know,” she said simply, shrugging. “You know, there was a time that he had good in him. I thought of him like an uncle, and he treated me like the daughter he never had. My father, he saw him as a brother, an equal.” Then she sighed. “I don’t know where it all went wrong.”
“Greed,” I said, taking a swallow of my beer. “Greed was his downfall.”
The way my father ranted and raved about Grant Travis and all he had could only be accounted for as greed and possession. He hated the fact that his family was damn near perfect, that everyone idolized Travis, and no one gave him any credit for the work that he did for the club.
Not everyone needed that type of recognition, but apparently Grayson Barnes needed it, and that need had gotten him killed in the end.
“Maybe,” Amy replied after a moment, as the sun sunk down to the horizon. “What about you, Eric? What do you want? What drives you?”
I wasn’t ready to answer that question.
“Why don’t you stay for supper?”
She gave a little shrug.
“I’ve decided not to take my father’s place, Eric.”
I looked at her hard, shock filtering into my expression.
“What?”
Amy looked over at me, her eyes softening.
“I-I have more important things going on in my life now. The club… it will always be a part of me, but I’m not wanting to make it my life.”
“How did your father take it?” I asked, still surprised that she had given up what she had been preparing for all her life.
“He took it pretty well, actually,” she responded with another laugh. “I didn’t hide anything from him either.”
Which translated into: he knew that I had knocked up his daughter.
“Great.”
I would need to be watching my back for the next seven months or so.
Amy laughed.
“Don’t say it like that. He is actually cool with it, I swear. If he wasn’t, you would already be dead.”
“That’s comforting,” I sighed. “What about you? How do you feel about this?”
She pushed away from the post, placing her hand on her hip.
“I think I am going to take you up on that offer of dinner. I’m starving.”
I took a long look at her, feeling some of the weight lift off my shoulders. Amy was here. She had thought it important enough to come here and either talk to me or shoot me and walk away. She knew everything. I had nothing to hide and was willing to answer any questions she wanted to hear.
And if, at the end of the day, she walked away, then I would let her.
“Come on, then,” I said, crumpling the can as I stepped away from the railing. “I got a fridge full of food.”
Amy fell in step beside me, her hands in her pockets.
“You are talking my language now.”