After Randall and Tamara left, the nurse came in and tried to give Gunner a bed bath. He shooed her away and then half an hour later, trying pitifully to remember the Spanish words Dax had used the day before, he called her back to ask for something for pain. She gave him a disapproving look, like she could hardly stand his uncleanliness, but she eventually gave in and put something in his IV that washed away the sharp pain he was feeling in his side and shoulder. He drifted off to sleep again and the next time he woke up it was to the sound of Cody clearing his throat, loudly. He opened his eyes, and Cody and Jimmy were staring down at him. It was not even close to the pretty picture he’d woken up to earlier. “The van is here,” Cody said.

“Oh, okay.” Gunner tried to sit up and Jimmy said:

“Wait a second, Einstein, the nurse is coming to unhook you from all of that.”

Jimmy didn’t like him any more than Cody did. Gunner wasn’t sure why, but he also wasn’t sure he gave a shit. “Hey, is there a guy in the van with a long beard, covered in tats from his neck down? I think his road name is 8Ball.”

Jimmy and Cody both smiled knowingly. “He’s here,” Cody said. “He said he can’t wait to see you.”

Gunner looked from Cody’s smiling face to Jimmy’s and back to Cody’s again. “Y’all can’t wait to see him kick my ass, can you?”

They looked at each other and then Cody said, “You know, Gunnie, nothing would give me more pleasure, but our prez says we have to cover your ass, so unfortunately we’re not going to get to see it today.”

The “Gunnie” really annoyed him. Gunner snorted and said, “You would have seen me kick his tatted-up ass.”

They both laughed. “Yeah, we heard about the fight at the bar.”

“I was drunk.”

“Then there was that fight in the barn.”

“I was trying to lose that one.”

“Wasn’t he unconscious when we got to the ferry?” Jimmy said, looking at Cody.

“I’d been shot…twice!”

The two men laughed. “Always have an excuse, don’t you, Gunnie?”

“It’s Gunner, and fuck you guys!”

They left the room, still laughing. By the time the nurse unhooked Gunner from his IV and he struggled to put the clothes on that Cody had left on a chair for him, he’d worked himself up into fight mode. They didn’t know who they were messing with. He wasn’t part of their fucking club…. yet. And besides, he was their president’s brother. He was the son of a legend. He didn’t owe them any fucking respect and he could kick both of their asses. He put on his boots and tried to storm out, looking tough and pissed. The first thing that happened was, he was stunned to see he wasn’t in a hospital but in the back of a Mexican restaurant that was open to the busy street. There were chickens hanging from the ceiling, beheaded and defrocked, and the smell of blood and grease was overwhelming. He made it as far as the bar that faced out to the street when he ran into a man with a burro, waiting for a shot of tequila. Either the man or the burro hadn’t had a bath in a very long time, and that smell, mixed with the dead poultry, just as he caught sight of another customer sucking the worm out of a bottle of tequila and holding it in his teeth for all to see, sent his world into a spin. Nausea assaulted him from every direction. He dropped to his knees on the dirty wood floor and he didn’t even notice the steel-toed boots before he began to retch. He didn’t have any food in his belly, but there was plenty of liquid and bile and it sprayed out all over the boots. He had his head down trying to fight the dizziness, but it was so hot and sweat was pouring off him. He felt people watching him, and he willed himself to get a handle on it just as he felt blood seeping through his t-shirt where one of his stitches must have come loose. When he finally pulled his head up, he was looking into the dark eyes of the one man in Mexico who already wanted to kill him.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You fuck my woman and then puke on my boots and I’m not supposed to kick your ass?”

Gunner was still trying to find his voice when he heard Cody say, “Your VP and our prez said hands off, 8Ball.”

If he had a gun at that moment, he might have just put it to his own head. 8Ball was glaring down at him from what looked like seven feet high. Gunner didn’t remember him being so tall. “He can find his own fucking ride.” 8Ball spat out the words. Gunner still felt dizzy but he focused on the poorly tattooed black eight ball on the guy’s thick neck, as he slowly brought his good arm up and wiped the vomit off his lips. He looked the tall man in the eye, and with as much of a smile as he could manage, he said:

“I’ll just ride your mama on home, 8Ball. She’s waiting for me over there.” He tossed his head toward the man with the stinky burro, and that was all he’d remember later; the lights went out again.