did. It’s what made him a good Sgt. at Arms.
“You got an hour to get cleaned up and find the rest of us in town on clean up. I’d get moving if I were you.”
I coughed and pushed myself up into a sitting position. Radar spit on the ground and with a final disgusted noise that hollowed out the pit of my stomach, marched across the debris field in my yard and climbed into the driver’s seat of Charity’s white Wrangler. He leaned across Lightning and called out the passenger window, “For the record, she asked us not to hurt you! Not sure why that girl thinks you deserve mercy after the shit you said, but she does.”
He fired up the Jeep, put it in reverse, and backed out of my driveway. I sat for a few minutes and took stock of myself from a professional standpoint. I was going to be sore as fuck for a day or two, bruised enough to give it a good show, at least in my face, but all told, Radar had gone easy on me.
I got up and got a shower, pushed my bike, with difficulty, back out into the garage and filled her with fluids. Moment of truth, I fired her up, and she fired true. Well at least one thing had gone right.
I had fifteen minutes to get where I was going, which in a town this small? That was easy. I shot a text to Radar and asked where they were at. A second later he pinged back with ‘@ the Capt,’ so I headed there first, a knot of dread in my chest. I didn’t like pulling displays of humility after fucking up. No one did; but I was due one.
I rode carefully around and over debris, and pulled into the Captain’s circular drive. Several of the guys were standing around planning cleanup, briefing on where to start. I kicked palm fronds out of my way until I had a patch of bare paver to lean my kickstand on. Tipping the bike gently, I leaned her over onto her stand and shut her off.
“We get the bikes?” Trike asked frowning.
“No, I just finished rebuilding my engine, she weathered the storm with me.”
“Oh,” he said and Stoker smacked him in the shoulder, talking down to him all the while giving me a harsh glare.
Guess no one would be talking to me until I made that apology. I’ll give my brother’s one thing… they were good at keeping a wayward man in line when he strayed off the path that was right by the club and his brothers. Seemed to me that Charity may have charmed the pants off of more than just me, I just seemed to be the only man here she’d done it to, literally rather than figuratively. I went up the steps, straightening my cut over my weathered Red Hot Chili Peppers band tee and with a sigh, stepped over the threshold of my Captain’s open front door.
It took a second for my eyes to adjust, even after raising my wraparounds to the top of my head. I blinked and glanced at Cutter, Marlin, and Pyro who wore triplicate grim expressions set in stone and I nodded.
“Anyone know where Charity is?” I asked.
“Right here,” she said softly and I turned. She was standing practically beside me at the bottom of the staircase.
“Hi,” I said, startled. She was dressed different. A peach, fitted tee replacing the pink tank, but the shorts were the same. She had on socks and what looked like hiking boots, a pair of work gloves sticking out of her back pocket. She’d straightened her hair and had it up in a high ponytail, and her makeup was done, light but there.
I wanted to ask her ‘who does their makeup to clean up a town’ but I didn’t. Instead I did what I came here to do. I got down on one knee and looked up at her and said, “I apologize, I was an ass and there’s no excuse for it. I’m sorry I scared you, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, and I’m sorry that I made you cry.” I swallowed hard, the seconds ticking by one by one and added, “That’s not me, that’s never been me, and I don’t know what my fucking problem is.”
I waited with baited breath for her to say something, anything…
Chapter 15
Charity
I came down the stairs, slowing
C. J. Cherryh
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