Chapter 26

Reb

SEPTEMBER 9

Reb washed his hands in the sink and watched the water turn red, then pale pink, before finally running clear. Joker’s hoarse screams still rang in his ears. But unlike countless times before, it wouldn’t be the killing tonight that’d keep him up. No, it was the thought of what Emily had gone through. The sight of that basement and her blood spattered everywhere. He’d done this to her. He brought her into this lifestyle. She deserved so much more than the miserable life he could offer her.

Zag came up behind him, and Reb stepped aside so his friend could wash up.

“Any sign of Rhonda?”

Reb shook his head as he took out his cell and checked the screen one more time. Not that it mattered; she’d left behind her purse and cellphone. And they hadn’t been able to get any info out of Joker. He could’ve killed her, or she could’ve run off. They hadn’t heard a word from her or found any sign of her or her car. She’d just disappeared.

And he felt…nothing. He’d spent the better part of twenty years with her, and she was gone. A tiny part of him would always wonder what had happened to her. And he’d have to figure out what he’d tell Tucker, but that was a headache for another day.

“Did the guys get Joker to the abandoned mine okay?” Reb asked. Their typical method of body disposal when they didn’t want it found for a long time—if ever. Normally Reb wouldn’t give a shit, but he didn’t want Emily tangled up in an investigation. She’d suffered more than enough at Joker’s hands.

“Yeah. Helps that it’s close. I’ll have a few guys stop by later to clean up the basement, but I’m beat. I wanna get home to my baby and soon-to-be wife. And I know you’re probably dying to see Emily’s all right.”

“Yeah,” Reb said softly. “What, uh—” He had to stop and clear his throat. “What hospital did Tank take her to?”

Zag turned off the tap and threw Reb a funny look as he wiped his hands on his jeans. “Hospital? Why would he take her to the hospital?”

“Because she was fucking stabbed? Are you fucking kidding me?”

Zag’s eyes grew wide. “She didn’t go to the hospital.”

“WHAT?” Reb grabbed Zag by the collar of his shirt and pulled him close. “Tell me that’s your idea of a sick joke.”

“No. She’s at the clubhouse. In your bed. Tank texted me earlier. She’s fine. Doc’s checking her over.”

“Bullshit!” Reb pushed Zag away in disgust. All the cathartic torture he’d inflicted over the past two hours faded away. Now he wanted to pound someone senseless, but the only other person in the house was Zag. So instead he let his friend have a large piece of his mind. “She was supposed to go to the hospital. I told Tank—”

“You told Tank to take her to the doctor. So he did. She saw Doc at the clubhouse, and she’s fine. He stitched her up and gave her some pills.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it. They stabbed her. Over and over. She needed to go to the hospital and see a real doctor. Not our back-alley buddy, Doc. That’s bullshit.”

“No, that’s the life. That’s what we do. If she showed up in the ER looking like she did, we’d be in the shit. So we took care of it the way we always do—protect the club.”

Reb hung his head as Zag’s words penetrated. “I know. I’m sorry, man. It’s just this whole thing with Emily—”

Zag held up a hand. “You don’t gotta say another word. Been there, my friend. I went to hell and back when it was Jessica. I get it.”

“Thanks.” Reb scrubbed a hand over the back of his head. “I never went through this with Rhonda. Christ, she’s the cause of this whole clusterfuck. How do you do this? How do you live with the fact that we put them in danger?”

“I just…” Zag shrugged. “It’s not easy, man. But for some twisted reason they figure it’s worth it. Being with us—loving us—is worth the price of admission. Welcome to the club, my friend.”

“That’s practically poetic.”

Zag grinned as he flipped Reb off.

And it was just what Reb needed to hear. Emily did love him. She said as much every time they went to sleep. Or a variation of it. Usually with a scream afterward. Reb smiled and grabbed his shirt and vest off the counter. After pulling them on, he looked at Zag. “You ready to head home?”

“Fuck yeah. Let’s go check on your woman.”

Reb stood outside his bedroom door at the clubhouse. He’d already talked to Doc—all superficial wounds; Emily would be fine after some time and healing. The bruises on her jaw should fade in a week or two and the stitches on her arms would dissolve. She would be fine. Was fine. Safe, all tucked up in his bed.

So why couldn’t he go inside?

The guilt over this whole fucked-up night ate him up. She wouldn’t have been terrified, tortured, and stabbed tonight but for him. How could he even begin to make this up to her? But Reb wasn’t one to ever run from a fight—or a woman. So after taking a second to steady his nerves, he opened the door.

Emily lay asleep in the middle of the bed, her arms covered in gauze and tape, her bloody clothes tangled in a pile in the corner. But most telling of all—she wore one of his True Brother tees. The soft white cotton shirt rose and fell with every breath she took. Reb stood in the doorway and drank in the sight. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he didn’t want to join the gorgeous, mostly naked woman in his bed. He’d rather stand here and watch her breathe while he thanked God that she was still alive. Christ, he’d come so close to losing her tonight.

Much like the Grinch’s, his heart swelled until it felt like it might burst. Fuck, he loved this woman. Would do anything for her. Shit, now he was starting to sound all sappy.

He stepped into the room and gently closed the door behind him. Emily moved slightly and moaned in her sleep. Reb held his breath, but she didn’t wake up. The pills Doc gave her should keep her asleep for a few more hours.

Not wanting to disturb her, he pulled one of the plush chairs close to the bed. Reb collapsed in it and rested his legs on the edge of the bed. The last thought he had before he fell asleep was that he really hoped Emily would forgive him. He didn’t know how he could ever begin to make it up to her.

“Reb? Reb? Are you okay?”

He blinked the room into focus. The clubhouse. His bedroom. Emily.

Emily!

Shit. Reb sat up with a start. “Fuck, baby, are you okay? Do you need anything? Water? Painkillers? I can get Doc back in here in a second. Maybe a—”

“Reb, I’m fine. I’m just wondering what you’re doing way over there. I want you in bed with me. Holding me.”

“I, uh, didn’t want to wake you up. Or hurt you. Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry? What are you sorry about?”

“Are you kidding me? Last night? Getting abducted and tortured? Does any of this ring a bell?”

“Well, yeah. I kinda have the marks to prove it.”

All the blood drained out of his head. She might as well have slapped him.

“Oh God. Reb, I’m so sorry. That was supposed to be a joke. It’s okay. I’m all right. See?” She held her arms out to her sides. “Fit as a fiddle. Doc swore there was no lasting damage. This time next month, it’ll all just be a memory.”

“I’m so sorry, baby. If I could, I’d take all your pain away.”

“Well, Doc did a pretty good job with his pill supply.”

Reb closed his eyes briefly, then looked down. “I’m sorry about that, too. The guys were supposed to take you to the hospital. Get you checked out by real doctors in a sanitary environment.”

“Tank tried to.”

Reb’s head jerked up at Emily’s softly spoken confession. “What?”

“Tank tried to take me to the ER, but I told him no. I knew there would be questions I couldn’t answer, and the cops would be called. I wasn’t going to be the one to turn your club on its head. I’m in it, Reb. With you.”

“Christ.” Reb’s eyes inexplicably filled with tears. There couldn’t be a more profound statement of love ever. Emily knew the way straight to his heart. He leaned over the edge of the bed and gave her a soft, gentle kiss. “I love you, too, Emily Marie Clark.”

“I love you, Rebel…Do you know I don’t even know your first name, let alone your full name?”

“It’s Rob. Robert Allen Gifford.”

“Rob? Seriously? I was expecting something epically awful. It’s so…normal. But okay. I love you, Rebel Robert Allen Gifford.”

“Damn, that sounds so much like that first day you brought Tucker to the clubhouse. I’ll never forget your proper little voice calling me Mr. Gifford. Christ, that memory still gets me hard.” Reb groaned against her lips before kissing her once more.

After a few moments, Emily pulled away with a whimper. “We probably shouldn’t. I don’t know that I’m up to any…extra-curricular activities just yet.”

“You don’t need to do a thing. I’ll take the heavy lifting for the next little while.” Reb moved to the bottom of the bed and crawled up between Emily’s legs. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

“Reb!”

That was the last coherent sound Emily made for a while.