Battle Hearts (Storm MC Reloaded 3)

Reaching for a knife, I slice his clothes off, and inch by inch, I carve up his skin.

I lose myself in the process.

I slice him up as a movie reel of the life my brother never got to have plays in my mind.

He stops breathing long before I stop stripping him of skin and limbs and blood.

And when I’m finished, I collapse onto the pool of his blood and let my torment consume me.

Max is never coming back, and knowing that is the worst pain I’ve suffered in my life.

Birdie is at the clubhouse when King, Ransom, and I arrive back there just after 8:00 p.m. I changed clothes after I finished with Ricky, but after digging a hole and burying the motherfucker, I’m dirty again. Birdie takes it in, but doesn’t let it stop her arms coming around me.

My mind is a mess.

Tangled thoughts I can’t stop.

Max’s lifeless body.

Blood.

Regret.

I can’t fucking silence the thoughts.

“Baby,” Birdie murmurs, trying to get my attention as my arms hang by my side and my mind twists in another direction.

How am I going to tell his kids that their father is dead?

Why the fuck didn’t I just stick to our original plan for today?

He wouldn’t have been anywhere near the clubhouse if I had.

“Winter,” Birdie says, her voice growing more insistent, her hands coming to my face. Gripping my cheeks, she forces me to look at her. The tears and devastation in her eyes grip me harder than her hands are. “What happened?”

Her words are strangled. They punch me in the gut and I feel it physically as if she did punch me there. I clutch her arms like she can stop me from doubling over. “He came here to spend time with me and got in the way of something he shouldn’t have been anywhere near.”

Fuck.

I suck in air as the events of today crash down on me.

As they smother me with grief.

It’s overwhelming.

Too fucking much to accept.

Max is dead.

Birdie’s tears stream down her cheeks. A fucking waterfall that I lose myself in while trying like fuck to avoid the pain slamming into me.

“I can’t believe it,” she sobs. “He was right there… at home, with me, this morning…. We made plans to see a movie tonight, to make you come with us. He told me about how much he loves Georgia and all the things they want to do in life—” Her words cut off as she gasps. It’s like all the air in her lungs evaporates. Her hand flies to her mouth and she covers it as her wide eyes stare at me in horror. “Oh God, he’s never going to do those things. Oh, Max….” She buries her face in my chest, clinging tightly to me.

My heart wrenches as my arms wrap around Birdie.

I want to help her through this; I want to comfort her. But there’s nothing left inside me to do any of that. Max’s death has sucked everything from me and all I can do is stand here and hold onto my wife and hope like fuck she has something left to give. She’s gonna need to be the strong one tonight; she’s gonna need to be the one to get us through.

We hold each other for a long time before she pulls me into my room. Stripping my clothes and boots, she curls up with me on the bed. Her arms stay around me and we simply lie together. She doesn’t utter a word; she allows her touch to speak for her.