Hard Rider

She took a few pained swallows and grimaced. Then, very softly, she said, “Jesus. Why do I always end up alone?”

My heart broke in two right then and there.

I wracked my brain for ways to make it better, for some idea of how I could lessen the blow I’d watched so many other people suffer while I was one the job, something Tanya never should have had to face. She was right. She’d lost so much already. Most of that was my fault. All my fucking fault.

I had to do something. Something big. I owed her.

I reached over, wrapping my arms around her as the first drops of tears fell from her face. I pulled her in tight the way I’d done the night Nancy had passed away and Tanya’s tears had stained my shoulder.

“You’re going to move in to my place,” I said as she sobbed, her arms wrapped around my waist. “As soon as you can get out of here, I’ll pick you up and we’ll get you settled. I’m gonna be here for you, baby. I swear.”

“Come on, Gunner,” she sniffled. “I can’t just move in. You must have a girlfriend, or...”

“No. There’s no one,” I assured her. “You’re moving in. I’m not gonna hear another word about it, okay? I’ve got plenty of room, I’ve got one of those pull-out couches and everything. Hell, I’m barely even there. I stay at the station most days.”

Tanya wiped her eyes on my shirt the way she’d done when she was little. I wasn’t about to let her walk out of here without a place to go. I wasn’t going to abandon her again. Nothing she said, no protest she could voice, would make me leave her alone.

I felt a familiar fire rise up inside of me, the same possessive flame I’d harbored while the two of us were growing up. This was my chance to make up for the one thing in my life that I’d always regretted. I wouldn’t leave my little sister out in the cold ever again.

“Jesus,” she said, looking up into my eyes, blinking a few more tears away. “You really are a knight in shining armor, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I chuckled, wiping an errant drop from her cheek. “I’m actually kind of a dick.”

Tanya laughed, a sound I hadn’t heard in such a long time that I could practically feel my heart swelling. I couldn’t even believe how much of a fucking pussy I was being.

“Did the doctor ever tell you when you were getting out?”

She nodded. “Tomorrow morning.”

“Then I’ll be here,” I told her, getting up from her bed. “Bright and early. So you get some rest, because tomorrow, you’re coming to stay at the Casa de Gunner. Got it?”

“Sure,” Tanya said, leaning back against her pillow. Even those few tears she’d shed looked like they’d sapped the energy right out of her. “Thanks, Gunner. For everything.”

I could feel that flame extinguish inside of me and turn into something dark. Maybe even hateful. I wasn’t sure who I was angry at, but that fury swelled up inside me sure as shit, desperate for a way out.

Usually, I’d stick my dick in some girl and call it a day. But I couldn’t do that to Tanya. She was my stepsister. My sweet, beautiful, hot stepsister...

“Don’t thank me,” I told her and saw her wince just a little. “Just doing my job.” Then I left her room to report back to the fire station, bristling all the way.

What the fuck was wrong with her, being so fucking nice to me? Thanking me? It didn’t make any sense, and it made me feel weird inside. Uneasy.

Tanya wasn’t the one with a debt, here. I was the one who had something to repay. Maybe once I did, I could get her out of my head—out of those dark, depraved thoughts where a good girl like my stepsister didn’t belong.

Fuck, Gunner. You’re one sick son of a bitch. Maybe even worse than your father.

That flame stirred inside. Maybe the one she needed protection from was me.

Chapter 4

Tanya

What the fuck was I thinking?

My stepbrother, who’d taken off on our family years ago and left me with an alcoholic mess of a father—his father—had strutted back into my life like a self-important tomcat, and I’d welcomed him with open arms.

Not only that, but I’d agreed to go live with him until I could figure out where the hell else I was gonna go. It put to shame every fantasy I’d had about what I’d do to him when, or if, he came back. Most of those fantasies ended in violence, but somehow, seeing him drained away every single insult I’d practiced in my head.

I’d spent years envisioning this day. Now that it had come, it didn’t look anything like I’d expected it to—and trust me, I’d run through a lot of variations.

It felt like a betrayal to the badass bitch I was supposed to be.

Oh, Gunner! Thanks so much for showing back up! Let me cry on your shoulder and gush over what a hero you are to feed your enormous ego!

Fuckin’ morphine. You think drunk dialing is bad, try begging the attending nurse to call half the fire stations in the city in the middle of the night while you’re high as a kite.

It had worn off considerably since then, and now I was in pain and pissed the hell off. I had a prescription for some Percocet I’d get filled on the way home. I considered taking a cab and standing Gunner up, but the fact remained that I had no place to go… And no money to pay the cab fare...

I was at the mercy of some douchebag who’d left me high and dry when I’d needed him the most. Again.

“That him?” the orderly asked me. He was standing behind my wheelchair, an accessory I really didn’t need but the staff had insisted I use. I squinted as the sun glinted off the windshield of an old Mustang—the kind of car my stepbrother had always wanted.

“Yup,” I tersely replied. “That’s the guy.”

Gunner pulled up to the curb in his shiny red classic. He must’ve spent years restoring it, and for some reason, that made me mad. Like, what right did he have to personal fulfillment when he’d run out on me—on our whole family—and thrown me to the big, bad wolf? Fury buzzed inside me as Gunner stepped out to open the door on the passenger side, then reached for my good hand.

“C’mo

n, baby. Let’s get you in.”

“Stop calling me that,” I muttered, pushing to my feet all on my own. “All I’ve got is some burns on my hand. I’m not crippled.”

But Gunner wrapped his arm around me anyway, supporting my weight as he eased me into the black leather seat.

The feel of his bicep against my back brought me back to the way he’d pulled me out of that fire—how he’d just slung me over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes and got to work on saving us both. He hadn’t even hesitated. Not for one damn second. Where the hell was this guy back when Jim had been beating the shit out of me? And where had he been since?

Gunner closed my door and I buckled in as he came around to slip into the driver’s seat. He looked over at me, at my bandaged hand. “You tell work you’re not coming in?”

“No,” I spat, folding my arms. “I don’t have a phone. Everything I had went up in fucking flames, remember?”

“You can use mine,” he offered. Before I could give him my answer, he’d dug it out of his pocket and shoved it in my face. An iPhone. Of course it was. “You can always Google the number.”

“I know how smart phones work,” I said, snatching the phone from his hand. I was rewarded with a throb of searing pain from my first-degree burns. This is going to take some getting used to.

“Careful, baby,” Gunner said. “Burns like that can be nasty. Especially on your palm. Too much moving around and you’re gonna make it swell up again.”

“Good thing they prescribed me pain pills.” I swiped my thumb over his touchscreen. “I need to drop off the order before we go home. You have a pharmacy nearby?”

“I do.”

“Great. Let’s stop there.” I hesitated halfway through dialing the number. “You know, work isn’t such a big deal. I can go in and scrub counters, or something. With my good hand. It won’t be a problem.”

My stepbrother snorted. “Did you hit your head? Your apartment burned down, baby. The whole fucking building. You need a day off or two. You need to heal.”