Chapter 1
Marco
Hunter had just come into the therapy room, and like always, Kylie had dropped everything and run straight to him. Now that I was standing without help and walking with a barely noticeable limp on my prosthetic leg; I stood aside and watched them with a smile on my face and a shake of my head. When were these two going to tire of each other?
They’d been together for the past six months, and I had never seen my best friend, Hunter, happier before.
They were kissing and hugging, and behaving like a couple of starry-eyed school kids. When Hunter’s hands traveled from her neck to her waist, I decided that it was time to call it quits.
“Enough you two, this is a place of healing!” I called out from the other end of the room, loud enough for them to part. Kylie held on to Hunter’s hand as they walked together towards me. They were an unlikely couple. Hunter was a tatted up scruffy looking guy who was a member of an MC. Kylie was petite and kind-hearted and most importantly, a physical therapist. My physical therapist!
“Marco’s progress is remarkable,” she said as they approached me. Hunter was looking me up and down like a proud parent. It was like he couldn’t even believe that I was standing upright these days. He had spent the better part of the last year pushing me around in a wheelchair.
“You sound like I should feel sorry for myself,” I remarked, and Kylie’s cheeks flushed, and Hunter laughed.
“We’re just proud of you, Marco,” Hunter replied, and I waved a hand in the air.
“Yeah yeah, be proud all you like, you still owe me one,” I said and walked, still limping just a little bit, towards my bag on the gym floor. Even though I had successfully learned to walk naturally on my prosthetic by now, Kylie still wanted to keep me under observation. So, once a week, I was back at the VA where she conducted a series of physical tests on me.
I tried explaining to Hunter that I could start riding my bike or at least driving myself now, but he insisted on dropping and picking me up every week. I figured it was just an excuse for him to see Kylie. They fucking lived together!
“I owe you for what?” Hunter asked, with his arm tightly wound around Kylie’s shoulder.
“You two would have never met, not in a million years, if I hadn’t fucking lost my leg in Iraq,” I said with a laugh. I’d gotten over it a long time ago. I’d served my country, and I lost a leg to an IAD. Shit happens. At least I was alive. I knew good men, who had lost much more than a leg. Besides now, I was practically as good as new!
“I’ll see you at home, babe,” Hunter said, catching up with me as I walked towards the door.
“See you next week, Kylie!” I called out to her.
“I’ll see you over the weekend first when you have dinner with us,” she replied, and I turned around to smile at her. Hunter was hosting a dinner in his apartment. I let out a small laugh. Before Kylie, I don’t even think Hunter would know what hosting a dinner was. Kylie had changed his life in more ways than she even knew. Kylie’s son, Carter, a three-year-old sweet kid, had changed Hunter too. He behaved like a man with responsibilities these days.
We walked together out of the VA building and towards his car.
“Man, you really have to let me start driving again. Kylie says it’s okay too,” I said when I opened the door. Hunter walked around and sat down in the driver’s seat.
“Give it a couple more months, man. I’m only here to help,” Hunter said and started the engine of his noisy muscle car.
“You’re babying me, is what you’re doing!” I exclaimed as we drove out of the VA parking lot. I wasn’t actually mad at him. Hunter was my best friend, he was the only one who was there to literally pick me off the floor when I needed it.
“Call it whatever you want. I’m driving you around for the next few months, no matter what Kylie says,” he said, and I stretched out my prosthetic leg under the dashboard. It was strange being able to walk again after I’d been confined to a wheelchair for over a year. It took some getting used to, but being able to walk around without someone else’s help, and not having to call Hunter when I was down on the bathroom floor—was a big relief.
“Okay, mommy, can we go get a drink? Or am I not allowed that for a few more months either?” I asked, and Hunter grinned before he swerved his car with a jolt.
“Okay, Rusty Pelican then. I have a few things to take care of anyway,” he said, and I nodded my head, happy that Hunter wasn’t putting up a fight about this.
The Rusty Pelican was where Hunter and the other members of his MC; The Bad Disciples, hung out. Hunter had started taking me there a few months ago, and I’d really gotten to know the guys. Once I started hanging out with them occasionally, I could understand what Hunter’s motivation was to be a loyal member of the club.
These were good guys, who lived life by a moral code of conduct. They followed orders and had each other’s back. They weren’t much different from the military, other than that they were on the wrong side of the law. But when had being on the right side of the law done me any good? I got my leg blown off because of it.
Hunter and I joked as we drove up to the bar. I was thirsty for a drink, and I looked forward to playing some pool with the guys. Something was exciting always happening at this place, and when I was around the MC members, once again, I felt like I belonged to a band of brothers.