Chapter 16
Gunner
I eventually found my way to The Rusty Pelican that night. The guys were all there already and they greeted me in with cheers. I knew I was a mess.
As if I didn’t hate myself enough for what had happened to Jenson and how I wasn’t able to save him, now I was going to be responsible for Brooklyn too. She would have to find out eventually, and when she found out the truth; she would know exactly the kind of man I was. The kind of man who couldn’t protect his own men. And then she would hate me, just like I deserved.
I knew I was falling for her, I was falling bad…and I also knew that I deserved everything I was feeling then. I didn’t deserve any happiness after what I’d done to Jenson.
When Hunter pulled out his pack of cigarettes, I made a beeline for it and lit one with the Zippo I still carried around in my pocket. The end glowed deep orange as I took in a breath and exhaled. I could feel the nicotine seeping into my blood vessels.
“You’re smoking again?” Glock asked and I shrugged when I looked at him.
“Where have you been?” Sniper asked, bringing over a fresh batch of beer for the group. The glass bottles in his hands tinkled and sent shocks down my spine. I still couldn’t come to terms with everything I’d discovered that night. The fact that Brooklyn was still there, surrounded by the Dragon Knights was bothering me too. But I couldn’t have dragged her away. I couldn’t force her to do something she didn’t want to do.
“I had some business to attend to,” I told them unconvincingly and puffed away at my cigarette. I could feel the smoke filling my lungs, the nicotine taking over my senses.
“I really can’t wait to storm the place,” Hunter said, gripping his bottle tightly in his hands. Sniper looked enthusiastic as well.
“They might have a shit load of weapons stored in there. Either way, it’s going to be a huge risk,” Tank, the wise one in the group, spoke up.
“But we’ll have weapons of our own, won’t we?” Sniper said but nobody responded. We all knew what a raid like that could mean. There was always a potential of lives being lost. The only advantage we had in this situation, was the element of surprise.
I gulped down large quantities of the beer in front of me and then wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. The cigarette continued to sizzle between my fingers.
“We have the weapons and we know what’s going on in there. We need to get those motherfuckers,” I said through gritted teeth and sensed them all turning to look at me. I wasn’t a big talker and they had all noticed that, what I’d just said had probably surprised them all.
“Welcome back, man,” Glock said with a laugh, reaching over to squeeze my shoulder. I gulped some more beer and my mind swayed with thoughts of Jenson and Brooklyn again. I took another drag of the cigarette to forget.
“Anything could be happening to those women. They could be sold off by now. They could be chained. Tortured,” I was speaking feverishly, staring into space with my eyes widened and my hands trembling slightly as I brought the cigarette to my lips again.
“Yeah, but we’re going to put a stop to it. You okay, man?” Hunter was peering into my eyes, in all probability; trying to figure out what had suddenly made me so talkative. All those words were pouring out of me in a gush, because I wanted to do everything I could to stop thinking about Brooklyn, and her brother.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I snapped at him, and emptied the beer down my throat. The others were silent as they watched me get up and go to the bar again. My heavy-duty Military grade boots crunched on the floor as I walked up and ordered three more bottles of beer. I had every intention of emptying those three down my throat as quickly as possible. I was hoping that if I was drunk enough, then I wouldn’t be thinking about what I was trying so hard to forget.
I came back to the table and realized that the topic had changed.
“You need to get some new tats, man,” Sniper said in a joyful mood now. I knew what he was talking about. Every member of Bad Disciples got their mark; one the life side of their chest, a tattoo of a skull with a crown. My dad had it and so did Bryce and so did every patched member around me.
“Let’s do it tonight,” I said and Glock laughed, like I was joking.
“Wait, you serious? It’s going to take a couple of sittings and we’re going to war tomorrow,” he added, his smile dropping when he saw me glaring at him. The word “war” reminded me of Jenson again, and the land mine I wasn’t able to save him from; and I shifted in my seat.
“Yeah, whatever, fine,” I mumbled under my breath angrily and chugged down half a bottle of beer while the others watched me.
“What’s up with you, man?” Tank asked, creasing his brows as he looked at me intently.
“Nothing,” I said and banged the bottle down on the table. “Nothing’s wrong with me, I just want to get this thing over with,” I said, and Brooklyn’s face floated up in front of my eyes.
If I was going to stop these thoughts in my head, I would have to do a lot more than drink a few beers.
***
I woke up the next morning, in what seemed to be someone else’s apartment. It took a few minutes for the fogginess in my eyes to clear and for me to recognize that it was Glock’s place.
The room was lit brightly and I could see that it was early morning. Lying on my belly, I squinted my eyes against the light and tried to think about the events of the previous night, but that was a failed mission.
I couldn’t remember how I got there or what happened after the first three bottles of beer that I drank. I was on Glock’s couch and I moved and felt my brain rattle in my head. With a groan, I crashed back down on the couch and tried to sit up again. My limbs ached, my bones seemed to crack and there was a massive continuous throb in my head. I had tortured myself the previous night, knowing fully well the degree of the hangover I would have to go through the next morning. But I would have done anything to numb the pain. I’d smoked at least two packs of cigarettes, or at least that’s how my lungs felt that morning.
My mouth felt dry as well and when I cleared my throat, my vocal cords squeaked and rubbed painfully against each other. I knew my throat was going to feel hoarse all day. I flipped myself around on my back and stared up at the ceiling.
The previous night had been one of the worst drinking sessions I’d put myself through in a very long time. And I might have been able to forget Jenson and Brooklyn for the time being, but this morning, they were back fresh and with a vengeance in my mind and I felt like I was going to explode.
I couldn’t help but think about how peaceful I’d felt that morning when I woke up with her in my arms. How she’d smiled at me when she got up and revealed her bare body to me. I missed having her ass in my hands! How was she the first thought in my head these mornings? Why couldn’t I think of anything or anyone else but her?
I knew it had been a bad idea to drink that much, especially since today was going to be an important day. I knew we were all going to regret this and I wondered what Axel would have to say to us when he saw our condition.
“Yo,” Glock had walked into the room and I heard his voice before I saw him. Even turning my head hurt and I groaned again.
“Wow. You were on a roll last night,” he said and somehow, I managed to sit myself up on the couch. It was then that I noticed that Sniper was sleeping on the floor beside the couch while Hunter was sprawled on the carpet in the corner of the room.
“Did we all sleep here?” I asked Glock groggily, while he turned on the coffee machine. Sniper and Hunter moved when they heard our voices. Sniper was moaning as well.
Glock smirked as he prepared mugs for us.
“Yeah, looks like it. I have no idea how we got here,” he said.
Hunter was looking out of the window.
“All our bikes are here,” he said and pressed his temples with his thumbs. Sniper groaned and fell back down on the carpet.
“Today’s the big day!” Tank had walked into the room now, looking as fresh as someone who had just returned from the gym. He was showered and shaved and his ponytail looked shampooed too. How the hell had he managed to do that?
He clapped his hands together, rubbed them and walked over to help Glock with the coffee.
“Did you drink at all last night?” Sniper mumbled sleepily from his position on the floor and Tank looked at him, like he had been asked a silly question.
“Of course. I’m so fucking hungover!” he said and Glock looked at me with a knowing smile. We were all jealous of Tank’s ability to soldier through a hangover.
“We have to go back to the Pelican now,” Glock said, when he brought the mug of coffee to me. I took it from him, grateful for something to drink and gulped down the coffee even though it was burning my tongue.
“Yeah, I just got a call from Axel. We’re going to start putting things in motion now,” Tank informed us and Sniper started attempting to get off the floor again.
“I’m going to have to meet up with you guys later,” I said, finishing the coffee in a hurry.
“Where do you have to go?” Glock asked and I stood up from the couch, slightly unsteadily.
“I have something to do first. I’ll meet up with you guys there in a few hours,” I said and Tank followed me around the kitchen as I emptied the dregs of the coffee in the sink.
“You can’t keep disappearing on us like this, man. This is really important.” Tank started lecturing me and I clenched my jaw.
“I said I’ll be there. I just need to get something done first,” I said, glaring back at him.
“Guys, guys! Relax. Tank, he said he’ll be there and Gunner, just hurry up. Axel doesn’t appreciate delays,” Glock intervened and Tank threw me a threatening look before turning away from me.
I said nothing more to them, as I picked up my helmet from the floor near the front door and then walked out of Glock’s apartment. I could feel the energy returning slowly to my veins. The coffee had worked wonders. Either way, I didn’t have the time or the liberty to lick my wounds this morning. There were more important things to worry about than a fucking hangover.
I had to get Brooklyn out of that place no matter the cost.