Saving Glory (Hells Saints Motorcycle Club Book 4) by Paula Marinaro

smirk. “Boy, are they ever.”
    Raine swatted at her sister playfully. But before Glory could ask anything more on the subject of Dolly and Gianni, the door to the gym room squeaked open and Hal’s big form filled the threshold. As was his habit, his eyes did a thorough scan of the room before entering it. When he saw the girls sitting there in the living room, he froze for a moment.
    “Hey, Hal,” the women called out.
    Hal lifted his chin slightly in greeting, but Glory noticed that he angled his neck so that he presented the girls with the right side of his face. The side that was not scarred and burned. The side where his beautiful blue eye did not droop and the edge of his mouth did not twist. The side where his smooth skin was not peppered by the black craters of shrapnel.
    The good side.
    Then he walked past them without saying a word and went right to the refrigerator where he grabbed a carton of orange juice and walked out to the door. When Hal had safely passed by the open windows and was out of earshot, Claire and Raine shot out their questions with well-meaning, but barely contained, curiosity.
    Questions that Glory answered easily.
    Just fine.
    Just great.
    Better every day.

Chapter 9
     
    “Hey, big brother.” Glory took a sip of her morning coffee and smiled out a greeting as Hal entered the kitchen. She was surprised to see him dressed and showered. Usually he was in the midst of his workout routine at this time of day.
    “You want?” She raised the cup in her hand and gestured to the coffee pot.
    “Nah, I’m good.” Hal walked over to the hook hanging on the wall and lifted the car key off the ring.
    “You’re taking the car?” Surprise flittered across her face.
    “Yeah. I’m going out,” Hal told her.
    “Out?” Glory stopped the cup midway to her mouth.
    “Yeah. I need some shampoo and shower shit. Getting kind of sick of take-out, too. Thought I’d stop at the market. Pick up some steak and burgers to throw on the grill.” His tone was casual, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for Hal to take the car out for errands when he had been living in self-imposed isolation for weeks.
    “Okay just let me get some shoes on." Glory walked over to the closet.
    “Stay where you are, little sister. I got this.”
    “You got this?” Glory looked bewildered.
    “Yeah. My face might look like shit, but the brain is still working.” Hal knocked on his head with an exaggerated gesture and smirked at her. “Might get this buzzed too. This hair is making me sweat like a sonofabitch when I’m working out.” Hal scrubbed a hand over his scalp.
    “So you’re taking the car and going shopping for food and shaving stuff then maybe going to get a haircut?” Glory frowned. The thought of her brother venturing out on his own surprised and unnerved her. “And you want me to stay home?”
    “No.” A tone of exasperated impatience rang out in Hal’s voice. Then he said with emphasis. “I don’t want you to stay home. I want you to go out. But you never do, so now to get away from all your hovering, I’m gonna go out. Alone.”
    At the hurt expression on his sister's face, Hal sighed loudly and said with more grace. “Glory, I’m okay. Things are gonna take a while for me to figure out, but it ain’t gonna happen any faster with you spying on me and watching over my every move.”
    “I am not spying.”
    “Little sister, you spy any harder, I’m gonna have to go out and buy you a goddamn trench coat,” Hal said with just a trace of humor.
    “Very funny,” Glory muttered.
    “No. Glory it isn’t. Seriously, you gotta give it a break.” Hal narrowed his eyes at her. “It might take a while—but like I said—I got this. I’m on my way back. It’s okay. I’m okay. But what I want to know is—are you?”
    “Am I what?” she asked, puzzled.
    “Okay? Are you okay?” he repeated.
    “Me?” Glory looked at her brother warily. “Of course I am, I’m—”
    “I know.