Duck (Rebel Wayfarers MC Book 8) (36 page)

Fifteen months later

Elias watched their progress avidly on his phone, the green dot advancing slowly, oh so slowly on the map. Brenda flipped down the sunshade on her side of the truck and used the mirror to watch him for a moment. She felt the heat and pressure on her leg at the same time and smiling, glanced over at Duck, behind the wheel in the driver’s seat, one hand on the top curve of the steering wheel, his other resting on her leg just above the knee, fingers curling possessively as he squeezed lightly.

“You okay, Bee?” She knew his question had many layers to it and she reached up to flip the sunshade back into place.

“Right now, this minute? Yes, I’m okay.” She paused, and then gave him more. “And I’m not nervous about visiting Blackie and Peaches.” She twisted her neck, looking over her shoulder at Eli who had raised his head from the phone for a moment to grin at her. “I know I’m not as excited as Eli is about seeing Randi after being forced into months and months without her. It’s been too long since her last visit, I know.” She sighed in mock grievance. “It’s just that summer only comes once a year.” Eli shook his head side to side, tongue stuck out roguishly. “As does Christmas.” Duck laughed. “And Easter.” Then Eli grinned at her again. “But they are good people, good friends, and I’ll be glad to see them again.”

“You sure you’re okay, baby? That was something to see back there.” They had passed an accident scene about ten miles back, cop cars and ambulances lining both sides of the road. A pickup pulling a trailer full of cattle had flipped on the shoulder of the highway, pained and panicked sounds from the cows in the crumpled trailer shockingly loud as they drove past.

“I’m okay, Duck,” she said quietly, reassuring him. She knew from the tight squeeze on her thigh he had seen the sadness in her face as she thought again of Essa. The Lamesa cops still didn’t have any leads on who had run them off the road that day, even though she knew Duck had pulled a telling description from her that both the Rebels and Soldiers used to identify the man responsible. “I’m fine.”

That last was a lie and he tilted his head, scowling at her from underneath his brows. “Okay, maybe not fine,” she muttered, twisting in the seat to look out the window on her side of the truck, “but good enough.” She sighed, tipping her head back on the seat, relaxing for a moment, eyes closed.

Duck moved to clasp her hand, threading their fingers together then tugged, bringing their joined hands to his leg, pressing the back of hers against his thigh. “Love you, Bee,” he said softly, his tone thick, intense with emotion and she looked up to find he was watching her closely.

“Love you, too, Duck,” she responded, seeing his eyes flick forwards and then back to her and she stiffened, swallowing against a sudden lump in her throat.

“We’re here,” Eli crowed from the backseat as Duck steered the truck off the road and onto a long, winding driveway, their arrival announced loudly by the brindle dog standing on the edge of the wide, welcoming porch wrapped around a two-story ranch house. She heard his door open just before the truck rocked to a stop and grinned as Randi pelted from beside the house, feet unerringly finding the beaten path running along the edge of the grass.

Before he was even completely out of the truck, the two kids were talking, yelling and then jumping around, so excited to see each other their little bodies couldn’t contain all the joy. “What’s your dog’s name?” Eli asked, and she heard Randi respond, her voice trailing off as they ran back the way she had come, towards the backyard. “Dee Two. It’s got like three meanings, because Pops is like that. Two Dee’s, because the real name is Dammit Dog Two, because Mom had a dog named Dammit Dog so when we got this one, she was telling the story and it stuck, so Dee times two, but, she’s also Dammit Dog the second, so there’s that…”

The front door of the house opened and Peaches stepped out, baby on one hip and a wide smile stretching her lips. A shadow appeared behind her and Brenda watched as a large hand curved around Peaches’ waist, urging her out of the house as Blackie moved behind her, lifting one hand in a brief wave Brenda quickly returned.

Twisting in the seat, she looked at Duck, cupping his jaw in her hand. “I love you, Duck.” She grinned, hearing the snuffling noises from the backseat, the sound familiar enough so she knew if she looked in the strategically placed mirror, she’d see an open mouth, hunting and rooting, balled fist pressed tightly to bowed lips. “Someone’s hungry.”

He smiled back at her, the look on his face stealing her breath because it was filled with so much love. “I got her.” Twisting his head, he planted a firm kiss into her palm, and then folded out of the truck, opening the passenger door behind his seat. “Who’s my ladybug?” He crooned the question and she watched as he unbuckled, then lifted their daughter from the car seat, pulling an infectious giggle from her when he pressed his face into her neck, pretending to eat her up.

“Who’s my Ellie-belly?” Brenda’s smile faded slightly at Duck’s innocent use of Essa’s pet name for Elias, but then Elizabeth giggled again, squealing as her father cradled her carefully in his arms. With effort, she let the feeling go, allowing joy and happiness to flood back in as she set her grief aside. She would never forget, didn’t want to forget. But, today was for the living and her life, finally, was filled to overflowing with love.

Las Cruces, New Mexico

Watcher looked down at the papers he held, the charter for the Las Cruces Southern Soldiers. When he could be assured his hands were steady, he rose to his feet, locking gazes with the man in front of him as he folded the charter and tucked it safe inside his vest, rejecting with his actions what he had been about to do. “I can’t, brother.” All he needed to say echoed within those three words, and with a steady gaze, Mason looked at him and nodded. “Not yet. But we need to plan.” Mason nodded again.

Looking at the men surrounding him, he leaned forward and the intensity in the room jumped a thousandfold when he said, “I promise you, brothers. Six go in. Six will come out.” Mason gripped his shoulder, fingers tight around the leather and shook him slightly in silent agreement.

The end (of this story)

THANK YOU FOR READING
DUCK
!

Thank you for reading
Duck
, book #8 in the
Rebel Wayfarers MC
series. I grooved on writing his story and seeing things come full circle for him in so many ways. Liked watching, tagging along in his head as he figured out how a broken life can fit back together, puzzle piece by piece, even if it looks impossible. He never gave up, and I love that about him. I hope you enjoyed reading his story half as much as I liked writing it!

REBEL WAYFARERS MC BOOK SERIES

Please note this book is part of the Rebel Wayfarers MC book series, featuring characters from additional books in the series. If the books are read out of order, you’ll twig to spoilers for the other books, so going back to read the skipped titles won’t have the same angsty reveals.

I strongly recommend you read them in order:
  Mica –                            Book #1
  Slate –                            Book #2
  Bear –                            Book #3
  Jase –                            Book #4
  Gunny –                            Book #5
  Mason –               Book #6
  Hoss –                             Book #7
  Duck –                             Book #8
  Watcher –               Book #9 (2016)
  Bones –                               Book #10 (2017)

DUCK’S PLAYLIST

I put together playlists of music both mentioned in the book, and used during writing and editing. Want a peek into the mind of me? Be sure of your decision, it’s not always normal here!

  Duck’s playlist: bit.ly/duck-playlist

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Raised in the south, MariaLisa deMora learned about the magic of books at an early age. Every summer, she would spend hours in the Upshur County library, devouring stacks of books in every genre. She still reads voraciously, and always has a few books going in paperback, hardback, on devices! On music, she says, “I love music of nearly any kind—jazz, country, rock, alt rock, metal, classical, bluegrass, rap, gangstergrass, hip hop—you name the type, I probably listen to it.

“I can often be seen dancing through the house in the early mornings. But what I really, REALLY love is live music. My favorite way to experience live music is seeing bands in small, dive bars [read: small, intimate venues]. If said bar [venue] has a good selection of premium tequila, then that’s a definite plus! Oh, and since I’m a hand gal, drummers are my thing—yeah, Paul and Alex—you know who you are!”