The Cut(30)

Gypsy walked out of the house, leaving her to face Stake's temper. She  knew she'd angered him, and she hated that she was acting like a brat,  but it hurt knowing it could be months before she saw him again.

Stake opened the first aid box and removed a bottle of peroxide. He  rested her hand on the dishtowel and poured the bubbling liquid over the  cut. "Sending you away isn't what I want-far from it. But it's not safe  for you here right now. I need you to understand that-not just agree to  it."

Hiding her face with her free hand, she struggled to keep her emotions  under control. "I'm sorry. I know I'm making this harder than it needs  to be, and I know I'm being irrational, but I have this overwhelming  feeling that I'm not going to see you again."

Stake didn't say anything until he'd finished bandaging her hand. Once  her injury was taken care of, he led her into the master bathroom.  "Sit," he instructed, pointing to the closed toilet lid.

She sat, trying to work out Stake's mood. He didn't appear to be angry, but his jaw was set, and he hadn't met her gaze.

Stake removed a screwdriver from under the sink before pushing back the  bathmat on the floor. He knelt and pried up several floorboards before  setting the screwdriver aside. Reaching inside, he came back out with a  large duffle before setting it at her feet. "There's three-hundred and  twenty thousand dollars in there. It's every penny I've saved and what I  plan to retire with. I want you to take it."         

     



 

"I don't want your money." She pushed the bag toward him with her foot.

"I want you to use it to put money down on a house and to help furnish  it with whatever we need. I'm pretty good with my hands, but if the  place needs electrical or plumbing, have that hired out." He slid across  the floor to kneel at her feet. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he  laid his head in her lap. "That money is my future. I wouldn't give it  to you if I didn't plan to spend the next seventy-years with you."

"Okay." What else could she say to something so heartfelt? "I'm afraid to go without you, but I'll try to feel better about it."

"You still have no idea how strong you are, do you? I'm glad you want to  be with me, but you've proven to both of us that you're more than  capable of taking care of yourself until I can get there." He sat up and  kissed her, sweeping her mouth with his tongue, slow and deep. "Gypsy  will be there whenever you need him."

"Are you related to him?" she asked. She couldn't figure out why he'd  put so much faith in Gypsy when he rarely seemed to trust people.

"Probably, but we don't discuss it. We're not blind, we know we look  alike, that's how we became friends. I went with the club to the big  biker and barbeque weekend in Fayetteville and we ran into each other.  That was twelve years ago and we've talked at least once a month since."

"Do you think you have the same father?" she asked.

"Who the fuck knows? Neither of us had a dad who stuck around after the  party was over, so without tests, there's no way to tell."

Smash might have been a sick asshole but at least he'd cared enough to  stick around. She'd never stopped to compare Stake's childhood to her  own. It was obvious he had issues with his bitch of a mom, but had he  been alone, or had he had someone like she'd had him? "Who did you go to  as a child when you needed help?"

He seemed surprised by the question. His brows drew together as he sat  back on his heels. "When I was a boy, Cecil, I guess, but that changed  once I told him I wanted to join the club."

"He didn't want you to?" she assumed Cecil would have been thrilled to have Stake follow in his footsteps.

"Cecil's … " He ran his fingers through his hair. "Cecil's' life is the  club, and when I became a prospect, he sat me down and told me he was no  longer my uncle. That if I was going to become a member, I would have  to understand that he was the Prez." He shrugged. "I think that's why I  started hanging out with Smash. Your family wasn't perfect, but it was  the closest I'd ever seen at that point in my life."

She knew she needed to be more understanding. They were both carrying  years of emotional baggage. "I think we still have a lot to learn about  each other."

He pulled her off the toilet and into his lap. "Yeah, time apart might  be good for us. We can talk on the phone, and I won't be able to get  distracted by your beauty."

She felt so much better, but there was one thing still bothering her. "Why's Tiny avoiding me?"

"He's not," Stake denied.

"I need to know the truth. Does he regret doing what he did? Does he hate me now?"

Instead of answering her, Stake reached into his pocket and pulled out  his phone. He scrolled through his contact list before hitting enter.  Handing Santana the phone, he nodded. "Talk to him, but under no  circumstances are you to discuss Gordon's death over the phone."

"You think someone's listening?" She couldn't imagine the investigators would go that far.

"I doubt it, but better safe than sorry."

"Hey. Is she gone?" Tiny asked.

She swallowed around the lump in her throat. "Not yet," she answered.

"Shit. Santana. I'm sorry, I thought it was Stake."

"Yeah, I got that." She leaned against Stake's broad chest. "Are you mad at me?"

"No. Why in the hell would you think that?"

"You didn't care enough to come in with Gypsy and tell me goodbye, so I  guess I need to know whether or not you're happy that I'm leaving."

Tiny didn't say anything right away. Instead, he cleared his throat  several times. "I love you, Santana, and the last thing in the world I  want is for you to go away, but Stake's right, it's not safe for you  here." He coughed. "Anyway, I guess I'm a chicken shit coward because I  couldn't bring myself to say goodbye."         

     



 

"I love you, Tiny. Will you come and visit?" she asked. Although he'd  only been in her life again for a few weeks, they'd fallen right back to  being friends, and she knew in her heart he'd done what he had out of  love for her.

"Sure, as often as I can," Tiny replied.

She thought she detected a sniffle, but she'd never call him out on it. "I'll phone you when I get to Fayetteville."

"You'd better. Bye, squirt."

"Bye, Tiny." She hung up and handed the phone to Stake. "Thank you."

He nodded, stuffing the phone back into his pocket and gave her another  deep kiss, squeezing her tight. "Time for you to get on the road. It's a  long drive to Arkansas."

She climbed to her feet, feeling better, but still not happy about  leaving. He shouldered the duffle with money before reaching for her  hand. She let him lead her through the bedroom where he grabbed her  suitcase.

"Is there anything else?" he asked, looking around the room.

She thought of the gift she'd left under her pillow. It was her first  attempt at drawing a self-portrait, but she didn't have a current  picture to leave with him. She supposed she could have taken one on her  phone, but there was something special about holding a real picture you  couldn't get from a photo on a cell. "I think that's it."

He walked her out to the loaded pickup. "Take care of my girl," he ordered Gypsy.

Gypsy took the suitcase from Stake and fit it into a tight opening in the bed before reaching for the duffle.

Stake shook his head. "This needs to go behind the seat." He gave Gypsy a pointed look as he handed it over.

"What'll you do now?" she asked, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"I talked to Mad Dog about taking over for me with the girls. Corrine's  not too happy about it, but I reckon she'll change her mind when she  realizes he'll bring home a hell of a lot more money. Plus, I told him  I'd sell him the house for below market if he'd take over. Corrine  definitely wants out of his single wide, so that helped sweeten the  deal."

She pressed her cheek to his chest and squeezed as tight as she could.  "I took your cologne, by the way. You won't need it, but I will."

Stake tilted her chin up for a deep kiss. "I only have eyes for you," he told her.

Gypsy started the truck. "We need to get on the road if we're going to make it before dark."

Her heart sped up at the announcement. She stared up at the man she loved. "Call me every day."

He shook his head. "Morning, noon and night," he corrected. He pulled  away enough to open the passenger door. "You shouldn't have any trouble  with the truck, but make sure you always have your phone on you when you  leave the house."

"I will." She climbed into the pickup and let him shut the door. Leaning  out the window, she opened once more for his searing kiss, hoping the  taste of him would last until they were together again. "Love you," she  whispered.

"Love you more." He pounded the roof of the truck. "Keep her safe," he told Gypsy.