Duck (Rebel Wayfarers MC Book 8) (26 page)

Ray, so fucking sorry.

“Me, too, bro.” Ray raised a hand, bringing an enormous pistol to his head, the barrel and grip painted black and white, and Reuben could see the outline of a skull in the lines of color. The Rebel patch made into a weapon. Destruction in an emblem of honor. “Mason fixed it, though. Ended it for good. Put it all in the box in the end.”

Reuben surged to his feet, lifting his hands to grab at the gun, hearing the tendons in his brother’s hands creak as they tightened, applying pressure to the metal bar underneath his forefinger. There was a blast, so loud it flung him violently backwards against the wall and he groaned as the pain exploded in his body, not able to hear his own voice over the ringing in his head.

***

Brenda jerked awake at Duck’s shouted, “NO!” She twisted off the bed, standing beside it, knees and thighs pressed against the mattress as it bucked and pitched with his movements. It looked like he was fighting the very air around him, sheets winding around his arms as they stuck to the salve covering his wounds.

“Baby,” she called, “be still. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Leaning in, she rested her hand at the base of his throat, sucking in a shocked breath when he snatched at her wrist, flinging her hand away as if the touch burned. “Duck.” Using a firm tone, trying to break through what was an obvious nightmare, she said, “Stop it. Duck, stop it.”

“NO!” His shout this time was garbled and she realized he had begun sobbing in his sleep, tears streaming from his closed eyes, lips slanted downward. “Don’t let him win.” Those words were another shout, and she stared at him for a moment, finally making a decision.

Reaching towards the nightstand, she grabbed her phone, going straight to her recent calls and dialing the number Myron told her to save into her contacts, one he said would ring directly to him. She had texted after Duck got home, received back a single word,
Good
. Now she would call him, because he had assured her he was available to her or Duck twenty-four/seven. Had even said so, verbalizing the slash. One ring later, she found he was truthful when he answered the call, “Brenda, what’s wrong?”

“He’s…” She trailed off because her chest seized tight, holding her breath hostage and suddenly she wasn’t sure what to say or even why she had called this man. A stranger who was sitting somewhere in the dark, a thousand miles away. What did she expect him to do? It wasn’t like he could drive across the road and help her hold Duck down.

“Is he having trouble? Brenda, talk to me.” Myron’s voice was low, deliberately calming, and it worked because she sucked in a breath, then another, convincing her body it was able to breathe again.

“He’s having a nightmare. I can’t wake him up.” She knew she was whispering when she said, “He’s shouting.”

“
NO!
” Duck twisted in the bed, nearly rolling off the edge and she rushed to stand where she could brace him if he started to fall, knowing she couldn’t catch him, but only make it easier when he hit the floor. “Don’t do it, brother.”

Myron spoke in her ear, asking, “He take the pain pills?”

She nodded, knowing he couldn’t see her but unable to stop the movement. “Uh, yeah. But, not until he got here. He couldn’t open the bottle—“

She hadn’t finished talking when Myron broke in with a guttural, “Fuck. Didn’t think of that.”

He continued, “He seem coherent when he got there? Making sense when he talked?”

“Uh…yeah. He talked for a while, told me what happened. Myron,”—she pulled in a slow breath, trying hard to stay calm as Duck shouted again—“he’s…the burns are
bad
.”

“I know, honey. I saw pictures, talked to him on video before he climbed in that truck to get back to you.”
Back to me?
The thought struck her with wonder, because it sounded like something she would do, want to get back to Duck if she were in a strange city and hurt. “He eat before he take the pills?”

“No, he was so tired. I got him undressed and in bed, got the pills down him and then let him talk himself to sleep. Shit, I should have known he shouldn’t take them on an empty stomach.
Shit
.” Teeth clenched, her hand tightened around the phone in anger at herself.

“Okay. Makes sense, honey. He’s drugged, so his dreams are going to be jacked up, and because he is, he’s gonna be harder to wake. I suspect in twenty or thirty minutes, he’ll slide back into a deeper sleep, and your house will quieten down again.” Myron’s voice dropped to a soothing, calm tone, and she drew strength from his certainty. “He just needs to know you’re there, and that you’re okay. After what he saw today, that’s going to be his worst fear, the chance something happened to you. Just let him know you’re okay.”

He stayed on the phone with her until Duck began to settle down, then a little longer until she had reassured Myron she was okay, too. They finally disconnected, and she crawled back into bed beside Duck, where she watched over him until he woke, ensuring his remaining sleep was deep and dreamless. The few times he stirred, she quickly lulled him back to sleep as she murmured to him how much she loved him.

“Tommy said that to him?” Brenda’s voice was small and sad, breaking on the words. Last night they laid in bed, him talking for hours before falling asleep out of exhaustion. Each time he woke from his dreams, she was there, her presence in the room soothing and letting him rest. He was where he belonged, where he wanted to be. With her. Duck had slept most of the day away, too, rousing to eat food Brenda brought to him before collapsing back into the rest his body demanded.

Now it was nighttime again, and they lay side-by-side, his gaze trained on her face as he finally shared what Eli had confessed. Unshaven, the stubble on his jaw scratched against the pillowcase as he nodded. “He’d carried it for a while, Bee. Our boy trusted me, and I’m glad he did. Glad he trusted me enough to let it go, to let me help him bear it.”

“God, I hate Tommy more now than I thought possible,” she cried, rolling to her back and covering her face with both palms. “If he knew, then why wouldn’t he talk to me? Why would he do something so heinous? Dump it on a child like that. He knew how Eli idolized him.”

“Idolized might be a bit much, Bee.” The tension he carried transferred to his voice, and he knew this when she turned her head to look at him, an agonized question on her face.

“He came to me that morning because he was worried. Wanted to know if I had fixed things with you. Boy lookin’ out for his mama, but he did it in a way which told me it wasn’t the first time he tried to look out for you, baby.”
No secrets in this bed, Little Bee
, he thought, forging ahead. “What he said suggested perhaps things between you and Tommy weren’t always as good behind closed doors as they might seem from the outside.”

Immediately, she shut down, features freezing into an impassive, neutral expression that was so automatic, it told him exactly how often she had to wear it over the years. “What do you mean?”

“I promised Eli I’d cut my tongue out before I hurt you like that again.” His frank admission drew a hissing gasp from her, and he watched as realization tore through her that her son knew how much pain she’d suffered during the fracture in their relationship. “You thought you shielded him from that, but Eli’s smart and he’s got a good eye. He sees a lot. He saw what I did to you. Knew when I fixed it…when
we
fixed it.” Duck wished his hands weren’t still so tender; he wanted to hold her close, but he made do with a gentle brush of the back of his hand across her cheek. “He knew what kind of man Tommy was, knew it by his friendship with Ray.”

“I should have found you.” Her whisper filled the room with regret and he met it with a shake of his head.

“No, Bee. I never shoulda left.” Pursing his lips in a silent demand, he held the pose, waiting and she slid closer, pressing her mouth to his in a soft kiss. When she pulled back, he launched in again, saying, “We could round robin this game for a decade and no one would come out the winner. Go back and forth with the blame we have, the guilt. That’s a non-productive activity. Things happened the way they did, and everything is for a reason. If I hadn’t left, I wouldn’t be the man lying here in bed with you, worthy of you.”

She made a small sound, dismissive, and he shifted, kissing her again, wrapping his hand around the back of her head, ignoring the pain stabbing through him at the movement and pressure. “Best thing I ever did for us was leave Lamesa. Hate missing the time with Eli, with you. But, the good news is I came back, and now we have time. We still have so much time, Brenda. Time to build memories. Things Tommy and Ray can’t ever take from us, because they aren’t walking the earth any longer. The main thing I’m happy about is being here with you. You and Eli, because the three of us can make this whatever we need.”

“I love you, Duck.” Firmly spoken, the affirmation of her feelings struck a chord within him, that resonance rising to fill him with emotion.

“I know you do, Little Bee. I love you, too,” he whispered and then pressed his lips to hers again.

He shifted to his back, letting her snuggle into his side, her head on his shoulder. In a determined voice, filled with an echoing timbre leaving no room for doubt, he told her, “Love you, and
God
…how I love Eli. I thank God Ray never knew Eli was mine. It’s a twisted justice, but if he had known, he would not have hesitated to fuck with you. So, as sick as it might sound, I’m glad Ray died before I found you again. Before I found Elias. My son.” He squeezed her, bending his elbow to tighten his arm around her. “My treasure.”

“You’re my dad?” The quiet question cut through the room and Brenda went rigid at his side. Eli’s voice shook with what Duck hoped was surprise and not anger or sadness, but the kid was so guarded it was hard to tell from the tone alone. He had moved closer to the bed from the sound of it before he asked again, “Duck, are you my dad?”

Without hesitation, not missing a beat, Duck held out his other arm invitingly and said, “Yeah, Elias. I am.”

When he dozed off this time, it was with warm bodies pressed into him from both sides, his family wrapped up in his arms.

***

“How long have you known?” Eli’s question was understandable, but the undercurrent of hurt in his voice ripped at Brenda’s heart. When she rose from the bed, he was already gone and she came downstairs to find the morning’s chores completed and General’s tack gone from the barn, which meant he was out riding. Such a smart boy, taking time to think things through. He had walked in the door a few minutes ago and because she needed to know where his head was at, she didn’t lose any time pinning him to a stool so they could have a talk.

She took a moment, studying his face, reading his mood and instead of answering right away, she changed the topic, saying, “You name that colt yet? Horse needs a name. Just sayin’.”

His head tipped back and she watched as his brows drew together. Just before he was going to say something to urge her on, she sighed, circling back. “Elias, I’m going to be straight with you. You can ask any question and if I can, I’ll answer it. If I say it’s not something I can talk about, then that’s just what it means. That’s not me trying to hide anything, but if it’s not pertinent, then I won’t always answer.”

“I can live with that,” he said, sounding very adult as he shifted on the stool to face her. “How long, Mom?”

“Not quite five months.” At her answer, his body moved back as if she had hit him, and she asked, “What?”

Voice quiet and low, he asked, “Not before he died?” His head angled down and he stared fixedly at his knees.

“No, baby. It was after. Remember the cheek swab deal we did for the gene test?” She paused and he nodded. “Remember I told you it said you didn’t have the ALS gene?” He nodded again, cutting his eyes up to her face, then back down to his knees. “They tested for the gene, but part of that was looking at how your genes differed from your…from Tommy.”

At her stumbling recovery, she saw the muscles in his legs tense, saw the toes of his boots curling around the stool legs, holding him in place. “And the test told you he wasn’t my dad?”

“Yes, baby. That told me.” She reached out, threading her fingers through his hair. “Things were…complicated when I got pregnant. I’d known Duck forever, it seemed, and then we dated one night. Just one night, and then he had to leave town. By the time I knew I was going to have a baby, have you, he had been gone for nearly three months, and I’d been dating Tommy for about two.”

“So when you knew, when the test told you, what did you do?” Lifting his head, he pressed back against her hand, not to push her away but to be closer to her.

“Well, first I cried, because it meant I had done a good man wrong. Duck’s a good man, and he would have wanted to be there for you. But, there it is. I got it wrong, so he didn’t know. And he wasn’t around to experience the everything that is you.” She forced a smile, but dropped it when Eli’s face remained serious. “It felt like I had stolen something important from him. My second thought at the time, was how glad I was Tommy never knew.” He opened his mouth to interrupt but she shook her head, resting two fingers against his lips. “I know what he said to you. Duck told me. Tommy never spoke to me about that, and baby,”—she cupped his cheek, thumb grazing across his cheekbone—“I hate that he said those things to you. Hate even more you lived with it for so long, baby.”

“When did you tell Duck?” He seemed frozen in place, eyes locked on hers as he waited, still and silent, breath suspended.

“Just before he went back to Chicago,” she responded immediately, watching as the lines of tension eased in his face. “He hasn’t known for much longer than you have, Eli.”

“Why didn’t you tell him sooner?” Now he was frowning at her, seemingly angry about the delay.

“I called to talk to him right away, but got voicemail. Not something I wanted him to learn from a message, so I asked him to come home.” She frowned at the painful memory. “So he did. But then it was hard to find the right time. Remember the night you came to the drive-in movie? I was working up to telling him, but then it didn’t…wasn’t the time.” He tipped his head to one side, then nodded. “There were a lot of those kind of moments leading up to me finally having the conversation with him. I’d work myself up to tell him and open my mouth and the phone would ring, or Gill would walk in, or God’s chariot would descend from the Heavens. For a while, it seemed like it was fated he not know.” She cupped her hand behind his head, pulling him close for a minute so she could kiss his forehead.

“Then I found the right time and I told him, and you want to know what his first words were?” Eli nodded, shining eyes staring up at her. This was going to be a good thing for him to hold onto and know, that his father wanted him and hadn’t been afraid to say it, straight away.

“He said, ‘Thank God, Elias is mine.’ First thing out of his mouth, baby.” She grinned as he sucked in a deep breath, pupils dilating, an expression of hope on his features. “Yeah, I know. First thing, right off the bat, he was pleased. No bull, baby. He never got mad about not knowing, either. Do we both wish things had been different? Sure we do.” Now it was her turn to look at her knees. “But we all know now. And now is what we’ve got, so we’re just going to have to roll with it.” She turned her neck, looking at her son, noting not for the first time how much like Duck he looked, now that she knew.
He should know this, too
, she thought, and whispered, “You look so much like him. I don’t know why I never saw it, baby. Next time you’re in front of a mirror, you look and you’ll see.”

“Is it bad—” his voice cracked in the middle of his question but he pushed past it, “I’m glad? Not just that you think I look like him, but that he is who he is and we all know it now?”

Reaching out an arm, she tugged until Eli rested against her side, cuddling in like he would when he was younger. “No, baby. He’s a good man, and I have the feeling he’s going to be a great father if you let him in. He’s a beautiful man, and I don’t mean the outside parts. You and me, we’ve talked about the importance of picking the right friends. Friends who will help you make good decisions. Who you can help to become better people.” He nodded, no surprise, because she had talked to him about things like that until she was blue in the face, hoping with sheer quantity something would soak through. Seemed something had, and it was a good lesson.

“He is good, through and through, has good men for friends, who hold him in high esteem. The people he’s surrounded himself with really tell the tale of how good he is. You let him in…if you give him the green light to be a father to you, to help you with whatever is needed, he is going to tie himself up in knots so he can be all over that.”

She gave him a squeeze and he twisted his neck to look up at her. “Shoot, Elly-belly,” she used Essa’s nickname for him to pull a grin on his face, “since he’s been here, you’re already picking up some of his habits. In these past weeks, you’ve gone from a lumbering lumberjack, thumping around the house, to being what he is.” She leaned close, putting them nose-to-nose as she dramatically whispered, “A Ninjacan. A ‘creep on silent feet until you sneak up behind her and scare your momma’ Ninjacan.”

The shouted laughter of her son rang through the house and she smiled, grateful for the joy in his voice. He hadn’t sounded like that in far too long.