Page 74 of Cutter's Hope
“We shared her. Take it you’re not a fan?” he said.
Reaver let me stew for a minute, mulling things over. I’d never done two guys at once. Not that the notion didn’t appeal to me, it was one seriously hot fantasy. More like the guys I had been with, I’d never been with long enough to find out if sharing was an option. Or if it had been, I’d never found another guy at the same time I was with one, that would share to make the fantasy a reality.
“Okay, so you guys shared her, you went home and did what? Got hitched?”
He nodded then said, “This is where shit gets real,” and he didn’t sound one bit happy about it. Something told me I wasn’t going to like this and today had really been a shitty day, aw, what the hell? I waved him on. Maybe listening to this would make my damage seem like less.
The shit got real. Reaver spilled it, about being shot, about faking his death to get the women of his club to agree to stay out of harm’s way, and how Cutter played Captain-save-a-ho, taking them all in. Including Reaver’s wife… who thought she was a widow.
“What the fuck?” It was a rhetorical question but he shrugged laconically and sighed.
“Listen, Sister. Six months was a long time for him to keep my secret and to take care of my Doll while she was falling the fuck apart. He told me he’d fallen in love with her, that he did love her, and when he gave her back to me, he told me I was a lucky bastard, which don’t I fucking know it? Feelings like that don’t evaporate overnight. Hell it’s only been three months since I showed up down here very much alive, if not well.” He lifted his shirt under his cut and exposed some pretty serious scars on his side. An entrance wound, with several surgical scars radiating out from it.
A pair of dog tags was also revealed but he wasn’t military, never had been and never would be. I pointed at them, “And who do those belong to?” I asked.
“My best friend Trig, he and Sunshine wanted to come down too but their shop is too busy.”
“Why? Why did you come down here? Why did he want you to come down here?” Something felt like it was missing.
“Cutter called, said he was in love with this woman, that his crew just went all rescue black ops mission to New Orleans with her to save her sister. Said the sister was in bad shape… heroin, and he needed Doc’s help with getting her straight physically, so one of his guys could help her detox. Trig and I know something about that, detoxing I mean. Trig man, he couldn’t come down, but like I said, I owe Cutter for what he did. Keeping my woman safe for me, giving her back to me… I would do just about anything to repay that debt so here I am.”
“Here you are…” I twisted my lips back and forth and stared at the melting ice in my glass, which had emptied its self. The world swam around its edges from my drunk and I didn’t feel one damn bit better. I just felt tired, angry, hurt, and… alone. I licked my lips and bowed my head and sighed. I was so fucking tired of being alone and for a brief, shining moment, Cutter had shown me I didn’t need to be… Then she’d crashed into him and the illusion that I might finally have something did some crashing of its own. Crashing and burning. I wasn’t blind. She was pretty… there was history…
“Hey, look at me.”
I did it without thinking, concerned blue eyes roved my face and I blinked.
“Let me take you back to the boat. You and Cutter can talk, sitting here drinking yourself stupid isn’t helping, I can see it isn’t,” he leaned back on his stool and looked me over.
“Can I get another?” I asked the bartender, who gave me a kind if slightly nervous smile.
“Sorry, Sweetheart. You’re cut off. I think you should do what your friend suggests and get on back to Cutter, I’ve known that guy a long time. He’s stand up and I bet you he’s worried about you.”
“He’s got this whole damn town in his pocket doesn’t he?” I asked the bartender point blank.
He gave me a smile and didn’t even try to deny it, “There’s a reason for that, Honey. He’s done right by this town in a lot of things, in a lot of ways.”
I huffed out a sigh, “Saint Cutter,” I muttered.
“Come on, I’ll walk with you. Don’t even have to talk, but I bet some clean air will do you some good,” Reaver looked me over and frowned a bit, “And food. Food too. It’s waiting back at the boat.”
“He’s there with her, huh?” I asked.
“Come on, here we go,” he paid for my drinks, took my uninjured hand, and helped me to my feet. I swayed, dizzy for a moment and his arm went around my back until I was steady.
“You good?” he asked softly.
I snorted and laughed, and the laughter built until I had tears rolling down my cheeks. I was fucking losing my shit, and all Ol’ Blue Eyes did was stand there, a serene little smile on his lips as he watched me fall apart, waiting for the laughter to subside so we could get under way.
“Oh that was good, I needed that…” Except I didn’t. My words were a lie, this wasn’t a much needed laugh when the going got rough this was me barely holding on by my fingertips. I pretended everything was okay. That I was good. Nothing was bothering me! I was a happy drunk… when really all I wanted to do was slide down some wall somewhere into a corner and cry.
I wanted to scream my injustice into the night and I didn’t want to quit screaming until somebody heard me and I really,reallywanted that somebody to be Cutter. I knew just how pathetic and weak that sounded and I would pull myself up by the boot straps in a minute. No one would know. No one would ever know these things and that is what made me stop in my tracks along the boulevard and take in several deep breaths. I stared out over the water. The sun was down, but the sky still had that fiery light in it, the orange globe having just dropped below the horizon.
“What’s up chick?” Reaver asked and I shook my head.
“Dizzy,” I lied.
“Yeah, right. Look, you don’t have to tell me and you don’t know me and can tell me to fuck right off if you want, but I really want to ask you a favor.”
