Saving Glory (Hells Saints Motorcycle Club Book 4) (4 page)

Prosper’s hard eyes softened as he looked at his brother-in-arms with a measure of solidarity and understanding.

Derringer leaned forward then, and reached for the chained wallet that sat in his back pocket. He opened it up and surprised everyone by throwing five one-hundred dollar bills down on the table.

“I say do whatever you’ve got to do for the Marine. I’d like to see him get the welcome home that we should have gotten all those fucking years ago.”

A brief respectful silence filled the room.

Then Prosper’s voice rang out. “Do we have a damn motion on the table?”

“I make a motion to use money in the miscellaneous fund to buy equipment to set up a gym room for the Marine.” Jules raised a finger in the air.

“I second that.” Diego nodded.

“Motion carried.” Prosper slammed the gavel down twice.

Then Jules added, “I’m good with heading up a team of volunteers to do the construction at the house. Soon as you give me an idea of what you want that to look like, I’ll put in a call to Crow and have him draw up some blueprints.”

Then Jules looked slowly around the table. Silently daring one of the boys to fucking say something, ‘cause every last one of them sure knew that there was some history there. And he hoped that taking the high road would quell some of the gossip that was sure to happen with Glory coming back into town.

When Jules’s eyes finally returned to Prosper, Jules thought that the big man might be smiling. But with Prosper you could never really tell.

“Now that we got that settled, we got any other business to take care of?” Prosper’s voice boomed out into the room.

A few hands were raised. Mentions of some club bike runs coming up—which were mandatory, which weren’t; a couple of the guys had fallen behind on their dues and took the opportunity to pay up; and a host of other stuff that was typical of any organized club was all taken care of.

But Jules really didn’t pay much attention to any of that. His mind was on Glory’s imminent return and what that might mean or might not mean for his day-to-day.

Jules sat a little taller in his seat and reminded himself that he was a big tough motherfucker who had spent years stitching up men with shot off limbs and holes in them the size of torpedoes. As a medic he had met the Marines coming off the field with wounds that were so horrendous a guy couldn’t make that shit up. The things he had seen, the things that he had done to save the brave brothers he fought with—blood and guts and gore. Day after day, week after week, month after month.

And he had never lost a wink of goddamn sleep.

Through the horror of it all, he had slept like a baby every time his face hit the thin service-issue pillow. And then later, after he came home and joined the Saints brotherhood. Even with the shit he had done and seen for the club he was always down for a solid eight.

No counting sheep, no warm damn milk, no soft soothing sound machines. Nothing plagued his conscience or gnawed at his soul.

Until Glory came into his life.

Or, more exactly, until the day that Glory walked out of his life.

Making it clear to him and everybody else that she would rather deal solo with her brother’s probable and imminent death than to have Jules, who had been her man, by her side.

Because he had been a stubborn, self-righteous, selfish prick, his woman had felt that she had to make the decision to face hell alone.

All alone.

And the thought of that had caused Jules more than a couple of wide-a-fucking-wake sleepless nights. Because his shit had decided to go all Jiminy Cricket on him.

A conscious.

Some of his bitches had left him with the clap, some with ramped up credit card debt, and some with a feeling of damn relief.

But not Glory.

No.

Glory had left him with remorse.

And regret.

And something that felt like pain in the area of his heart.

And now she was coming back to where it all started.

Back to Crownsmount.

Back to the lake house.

But not back to him.

Not back to him.

And he had absolutely no idea what to do with that.

Glory snuck a look at her brother and knew that the ride had really begun to wear on him. They had been on the road for a couple of days now and the stress was taking its toll.

On both of them.

Looking now at the sheen of sweat on his forehead, Glory wished for the millionth time that Hal had consented to taking a plane to Crownsmount. He had told her that he didn’t want her to have to make the long drive by herself. But Glory knew that there was more behind his refusal to fly than mere concern for her well-being.

She had seen first-hand how the normal sounds of everyday set her brother’s teeth on edge. Glory could only imagine what kind of inner demons the hustle and bustle of a busy airport might unleash. So realizing that the long car trip might be the lesser of two evils, Glory did her utmost to maintain road safety while at the same time watching her brother for signs of physical and emotional stress. She made up reasons to take frequent stops along the way and chattered brightly about nondescript things whenever she saw Hal’s jaw clench or his shoulders tense.

Sometimes though, Glory wished that she had taken the plane herself, and left her brother to his own devices. She tried to be empathetic and understanding, but she had begun to reach her rope’s end. Besides Hal’s general surliness and discomfort at the long drive, there was this hyper-vigilance about him that really unsettled her. He stuck his head out the window and scanned the rooftops of every town or city they passed through, looking for God only knows what. And her brother’s nighttime terrors were exhausting for both of them. Invariably in the early morning hours, Glory would wake up to the sound of a shower running in the hotel room that they shared. The sight of the rumpled sheets wet with sweat in the bed next to hers just about broke her heart. Glory wished that she could take a magic wand and wave away all of her brother’s nightmares, but of course she couldn’t.

*****

Welcome to Crownsmount.

A wave of unsteady emotion washed over Glory as she took the last exit off the long lonely highway and crossed over into the town line.

Finally the journey was over.

But a more difficult one was about to begin

“Don’t remember the town being so small,” Hal muttered as he looked out the window at the businesses that lined the main street. “Even stopping at all three traffic lights it took us—” He glanced at his watch. “Four minutes three seconds to drive through the center of town from end to end.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Glory’s voice was riddled with exhaustion and tension she could no longer hide.

“Nah. Just sayin’.” Hal shrugged next to her as he leaned in towards the windshield and scanned the road ahead.

Glory tried to keep her emotions steady, but as she passed the familiar landmarks a flood of memories came flashing back to her. Those first frightening days of recovering from the kidnapping and beatings she had endured at the hands of Gino Abiatti, her growing friendship with Claire and Raine, the start of her catering business, Dolly and Pinky and their mothering ways, and…

Jules.

As she had taught herself to do months ago, she pushed thoughts of Jules away. For the sake of her own sanity Glory had relegated him to the corner of her heart where the rest of life’s disappointments sat on a dusty shelf.

But for the first time in what seemed like forever, she felt those thoughts push back at her and jump off that shelf of
not agains
, and
not evers
to the one just below it.

To the shelf filled with
what ifs
.

And suddenly Glory felt the strong urge to turn the car around and go back to the junction
where north met south, and east met west. Back to that place where she still had the choice to stay or leave.

And maybe Glory would have done just that. Maybe she would have gone back and chosen a different path if the sun had not taken that precise moment to break through the soft billowy clouds and stream rays of sunlight onto the road ahead of them.

As the sudden burst of light almost blinded her, Glory glanced quickly over to her brother. She saw him close his tired eyes and lift his face to capture the healing heat. Just up the road she could see the gentle slope of the lake house. The graceful structure seemed to beckon them forward. The cedar shingles lay sturdy and solid against the A frame and the large glass windows winked at them happily. The house itself appeared to stand like a beacon, reassuring her. Her heart filled with an overwhelming sense of gladness and relief. She had made the right decision coming back to where her journey with the Hells Saints family began.

And at that moment she resolved to do her best to stop worrying about Hal, about herself, and about—well— anything else. Against all odds, things had worked out here for her before, and she hoped with all her heart that they would work out again.

But still, despite all that, Glory pulled up into the driveway of the lake house with a mixture of trepidation and confused emotion.

While Hal began to unload the car, Glory stood silently for a few minutes and gazed at the old, familiar structure. The moment was filled with an eerie sense of déjà vu and it took another long moment for her to find the courage to step on the pretty gravel path lined with daylilies.

“You okay?” Hal called out to her.

“Yeah. Just taking a minute to stretch my legs,” Glory lied to him.

She reached down into her purse and found the key that Prosper had left with her. Then gathering up her courage, Glory walked toward the house. She twisted the key into the lock and pushed open the door of the lake house. And when she stepped inside she felt the sun once again bathe her in its light. All of her senses were enveloped at once by the fresh smell of lemon cleaning wax, the bright colors of the scattered rugs, the lush feel of the overstuffed couches, the sound of the lapping water against the dock.

To the left and through the curved archway would be the kitchen that she had upgraded with her profits from Glory Daze Catering. She could almost taste the delicious confections she had whipped up in that oven.

And up a short flight of stairs to her right would be the three bedrooms that Claire and Raine had once occupied.

“Bedrooms this way?” Hal moved past her with some boxes.

“Yeah, round the corner and up the stairs.” She made her way back outside to help bring in what was left in the car. Glory was just pulling the last of the stuff out from the trunk when she heard a loud shout.

“Holy fucking shit!” Hal bellowed out from the cabin.

“Hal? What’s wrong?” Glory called out to him in fright. Then she dropped the suitcase on the ground and ran straight for the cabin. Her first thought was that his leg had tricked out on him again, and that he had fallen or …

“Glory!” He shouted to her again.

“I’m coming!” She jumped over the threshold and came to a skidding halt when she saw him standing straight and tall at the end of the hallway. “Jesus, Hal. Don’t scare me like that. What is it?”

“Look at this.” He pulled her to stand beside him and when he did, Glory gasped out in surprise. Because she found herself standing in an archway where there had been only a wall before. And beyond lay a long rectangular room filled with every kind of gym equipment imaginable. There was a weight bench with a varied assortment of weights sitting next to it, a heavy bag, a speed bag, an elliptical machine, a treadmill, a bow-flex machine and a few other things that Glory did not know the name of.

“I don’t remember seeing this room here before.” Hal shook his head as if trying to clear his vision.

“That’s because it wasn’t.” Glory frowned her confusion.

“And I sure as hell don’t remember this equipment being stored anywhere in the cabin.” Hal stepped over the threshold.

“Never.” Glory’s voice echoed her brother’s incredulous tone.

“So what the fuck, Glory?” He moved deeper inside the room and scanned it with wide eyes.

“No idea, Hal.” She had begun to move around the equipment.

As if on cue, a dull roar thundered in the distance. As the sound came closer and closer Glory discerned the distinctive rumble of pipes and the sound of full throttle. Glory and Hal walked quickly out to the end of driveway and looked down as the Hells Saints Brotherhood rode their Harley Davidsons by in single file. They drove slowly past the main entrance to the house. Glory watched them as they all nodded to Hal or saluted him in a sign of respect and solidarity.

Except for one rider—the big blonde guy whose riding position right behind the Vice President heralded him as Sergeant at Arms of the Hells Saints MC.

Jules Bonny didn’t spare a glance at the Marine Captain, instead he turned his head and looked straight up the driveway.

Right into Glory’s eyes.