The Club Betrayal : Sons of Lost Souls MC - Book Eight

by Ellie R. Hunter

  She joins me outside on the top step, just as seven bikes come through the gates. Does anyone sleep around here?

  Thinking that perhaps Tal is with them, I forget the pain in my foot and walk over to Cas, knowing Alannah’s following because I can smell her perfume.

  I watch the guys climb off their bikes, but none of them are Tal. They all glance at my bandages and quickly look away.

  “How are you feeling today?” Cas asks, walking toward me.

  “Not good. I need to see Tal.”

  He’s already shaking his head before I finish speaking.

  “I haven’t changed my mind. You won’t see him again.”

  As scared as I am, the anger is still simmering, but flames at his refusal. “My hands are burnt to a crisp. Just now, I couldn’t even open the fucking door. If I can’t get answers from him, I need them from you. I’m not stupid, I know you’re not letting me leave, thinking I’ll go to the cops, and probably wouldn’t believe me if I promised you I wouldn’t. So, I’m not going to leave, and I’m not going to go to the cops, but I won’t stay here and stay quiet. I need to know why this happened to me.”

  I stop before I choke on the words and show him weakness. I’m stronger than this, and that’s what I want him to see.

  Crossing his arms over his chest, I see the fatigue in his eyes, but it’s not my problem.

  “For all I know, you could be part of trying to destroy my club.”

  What? No! How can this be turning against me so fast?

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. As far as I knew, I was having fun with a guy before leaving for my last year at college.”

  “Forgive me if I don’t believe a word you say.” Stepping closer, I can smell his sweat. “You shouldn’t have got caught up in this, but—”

  “Cas,” Alannah warns.

  The bald guy with faded tattoos jerks his head at Cas, and they walk back over to their bikes.

  Alannah looks me in the eyes, promising, “Don’t be scared. No one will hurt you here.”

  I raise my brow. Is she serious?

  “You have my word.”

  “Why? I mean, don’t you think the same as Cas? You don’t know me.”

  “Oh, but I do know you. Your father works for the best law firm in the city, and it’s how he’s put you through college. Your mom has her hair bleached and blown out every third Thursday of the month because she’s terrified of her roots showing. You got straight A’s throughout school, and you’re due to finish college with honours. You work at Hank’s, which you’re only doing because your dad made you. You came to the club with your friend because you needed an escape to forget your life in town, and it didn’t work out for you. You were taken, you were hurt, and you’re still alive. I know more than you think I do.”

  I don’t know if I should be scared or relieved at what she knows.

  “My husband isn’t the only one who digs for information. I was born into this club. Cas has been around a long time, but I’ve been here for forever. The club is going through some shit that I won’t tell you about, but what I will tell you is that no one here will hurt you. They don’t trust you because they don’t know you.”

  “And you trust me?”

  “I didn’t say that. You have history in this town. I don’t believe you were in cahoots with Tal, but trust? It takes more than belief for me to trust when it comes to the people I love.”

  Cas and the bald guy walk back over. “You can see him on one condition.”

  “Okay?”

  “You tell us everything he tells you, and I mean everything.”

  I’ll agree to anything at this point. “I can do that.”

  “Let’s go, then.”

  I follow them through the bar and into a basement, where I freeze at the sight of Tal.

  They have him tied to a chair. His eye and cheek are bruised, and blood has dried around his bottom lip and chin.

  He’s worried, but not for himself. His forehead creases as he watches me walk in.

  “W–Why is he tied to a chair?”

  “Get your answers. You have ten minutes.”

  I expect them to hover in the corner or something, but Cas and the bald guy leave, closing the door behind them.

  I don’t waste a second of my ten minutes and rush over to Tal, choosing to ignore why there’s another guy also tied to a chair, looking as if he got into a fight and lost.

  “What’s going on?”

  “What are you still doing here?” he asks instead of answering me.

  “It wasn’t my choice. Besides, I wasn’t leaving until I saw you.”

  When his gaze drops to my hands, his chest heaves, and a single tear rolls down his cheek.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  His lame apology reminds me of why I’m down here. “Why did this happen to me? I deserve to know why.”

  “My mother knew the guy who took you. He was the VP for a motorcycle club her father was president of. They used her, and when she refused to take the fall for a murder, Bert held her down so her father could burn her hands, just like yours. I’m certain he did it to make a point.”

  A point? That’s exactly what the old guy said to me. He was right, and it only makes me angrier.

  “Who are you?”

  “My name is Ethan, and I should’ve stayed away from you.”

  I already knew his real name; this is getting me nowhere.

  “I still don’t understand.”

  “I need you to do something for me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “We don’t have much time. I need you to—”

  “I still need answers from you.”

  “And I’ll give them to you once I’m out of here. Please, trust me. If you don’t speak to my dad, I’ll be dead, and you’ll get nothing.”

  Why does everything seem to be getting worse? If they kill him—as he believes they will—what happens to me?

  He rattles off a phone number twice. “My dad, Aaron McGregor. Tell him what’s going on. He’ll get us out of here. He’s FBI.”

  The hits just keep coming. He repeats the number again, only seconds before the door opens and Cas walks in.

  “Don’t trust anyone here. You can trust my dad. Call him as soon as you can,” he whispers.

  “Time’s up,” Cas announces, lifting me to my feet.

  Tal fights against his restraints, but it’s no use. Once the door is closed, it’s not long before I’m told to sit. Once I do, Cas stands over me.

  “Talk.”

  “He told me his mom knows the guy who did this to me, that he did it to make a point, and his name really is Ethan.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Yes.”

  I leave out Tal telling me to call his dad, and bite my bottom lip under Cas’s heavy gaze. The man is intimidating, making me want to spill my guts.

  “I get that you don’t trust me not to go to the police, but if I don’t check in with my dad soon, he’ll call them himself, and he knows I’ve been spending time here.”

  I’m not exactly lying, but I’m not planning to call him. The horror I’ve endured is because of Tal, yet he’s the one I believe. I don’t know if I should trust Cas, because his purpose is to protect his club, not me. Not to say I’m pro Tal, as I have my own issues with him, but it’s better to stick with the devil you know, and the devil I know is Tal. If his father is FBI, at least I can get out of here alive, and put as much distance between this club and me as possible.

  Pulling out his phone, he raises his brow. “Number?”

  I rattle off the number Tal gave me, hoping I remembered it right. Passing me the phone, I hold it awkwardly to my ear and walk to the corner of the bar.

  It rings, and I squeeze my eyes closed, praying he answers.

  “McGregor.”

  The British accent surprises me.

  “Um, my name is Holly Tucker, and I’m a… a friend of Tal’s—I mean, Ethan,” I whisper, my heart beating out of my chest.


  “Go on.”

  “He’s in trouble, and he told me to call you. He said you’d get us both out of here.”

  He curses down the line, and then he’s back to business. “Is he hurt?”

  “Not really, but they’ve got him tied to a chair in the basement.”

  “Who?”

  “The Lost Souls.”

  “How are you calling me?”

  “They think I’m calling my dad. Ethan told me I could trust you.”

  He goes quiet, then sighs. “Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Keep your head down and stay alive.”

  He hangs up. I’m putting my faith in a stranger, but it’s not the strangest thing I’ve done in the last few weeks.

  Waiting by the table, Cas reaches out for his phone.

  “I managed to convince him I’ve moved out and left town.”

  I want him to believe my father isn’t going to be a threat, but I swallow thickly when I realise he now thinks no one is going to look for me if I go missing.

  “I’ll take you back to the house. You must be hungry.”

  I don’t get him. He doesn’t trust me, and he won’t let me leave, but he’s making sure I’m looked after. Is he playing games with me? Is this a prisoner tactic to mess with me, to keep me on edge? Because it’s starting to work. All I can do at this point is hope Tal’s father shows up soon.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cas

  Fucking bitch.

  Hitting play for a third time, brothers listen to her conversation with the rat’s dad—the FBI agent. I could feel it in my gut she didn’t want to call her dad. I fucking knew it, hence why I recorded the call.

  “So we’ve got a prospect who looks more innocent by the day, a traitor brother who’s fucking us in the ass, and now we’ve got a girl calling the FBI for help. And by the sounds of it, he’s on his fucking way,” Sparky snaps.

  He’s not wrong, but he’s left out that we have a bother in the hands of our enemy.

  “We’re going to move Tal to the Old Mill, and the girl too. As for Kyle, it’s safe to say he isn’t making the cut now, so we’ll cut him loose on the provision he never breathes a word of what he’s seen here.”

  “He’ll understand the consequences if he does. He and his aunt will leave town.”

  I have no inclination to think of Kyle or his aunt, he’ll be out of here soon and his aunt is safe away from Bert, thanks to Sparky.

  “Mason, Myles, go with Leo. JJ, Zachery, take the rat and the girl, and stay put until I say otherwise.”

  The four men stand. “Everyone else, we go on lockdown. Be on guard, and ready yourselves for anything. No one leaves until we see how this plays out.”

  Helping myself to a shot of whiskey, I fucking wish I could light up a smoke.

  “Dealing with agents is a whole lot different to fighting the way we know how,” Sparky acknowledges, voicing what we’re all thinking.

  “I need to call Jamie Boy. There’s no way we can have them showing up if we’ve got feds crawling all over the club.”

  “That’s wise, but I say fuck them. We’ve got to cover our asses. This club isn’t just our brothers, it’s our sons.”

  I scrub my hands over my face, my patience wearing thin, but in my position, no one can afford for me to lose it.

  “I’ll call Jamie Boy. You go make sure everyone’s armed, but don’t shoot unless I give the order.”

  He pushes away from the bar, but stops. “Cas, we start shooting at the feds, we’re done.”

  “We prepare for the worst. We’ve always fought for this club, no matter who we’re fighting against.”

  Nodding, he heads out and I pick up my phone. Typing in the number I have for the Kings, I turn away from the bar and press it to my ear.

  “Jamie Boy Hayward.”

  “It’s Cas, calling to cancel our meet today. I’ve got shit going down, and you won’t want to be anywhere near it.”

  “What kind of shit?”

  “The kind of shit I’m not sure we’ll be around for to continue our business kind.”

  The line goes quiet, and while I don’t give two fucks what he thinks, I would like to continue our arrangement if it turns out to be possible. I’m not giving up on shit, and we’ll need them if this storm blows over.

  “I see. How can we help?”

  “You can’t. I’ll be in touch when I can. If you don’t hear from me, you’ll hear from one of us.”

  I end the call, my time needed here, not on the phone. Brothers are wary, but determined. I took a vow when I sewed my president patch on that I wouldn’t let them down. It’s come close a few times, but this time, I don’t give a fuck if they wear a badge or not. Anyone against us is going down.

  Her hair smells like apples, and I nuzzle my nose deeper into her hair as I hold Alannah as close to me as I can.

  “Please tell me you have a plan.”

  I pull away to look into her eyes. I couldn’t imagine being taken away from her. My ego is big enough to admit I’ve not worried about prison time living this life. I’ve worried about bullets and blood, but never the authorities.

  “I have a plan.”

  “Care to share it with me?”

  Running my fingers down her cheek, I sigh.

  “Leo, Zach, JJ, and the twins have taken Tal and the girl to the Old Mill, where they’re waiting on word from me. Everyone here is on lockdown and preparing for the feds to show up.”

  “And? What’s the plan when they do?”

  “You and the other old ladies will stay in the house. I mean it, babe, you don’t come out for any reason. None at all. I’m not opening the gates for anyone. If it comes to a standoff, so be it.”

  “Cas, we don’t have the supplies to last through a standoff for long.”

  She’s worried, but still fighting. It’s what I love most about her—she’s all club.

  “We won’t go without, I promise you that.”

  I spent my life before Alannah fearing commitment, fearing sharing my power, thinking it was a weakness. If it weren’t for her, I would still be living my life with those fears. They’d be festering away, eating me alive, and I would be missing out on something I now can’t live without.

  “No matter how this ends, you know I love you. It’s always been you, and always will be.”

  “Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?”

  Deep down, we both know our worlds could shatter at any moment. I’ve spent around forty years in this club, and we’ve been lucky. We don’t have police showing up every five minutes, and we’ve not had the feds taking an interest in us. We know how shit goes down when they do take an interest. And even though neither of us need to speak on how we feel for one another, I still need her to hear it.

  “No goodbyes, just telling you how it is.”

  “Well tell me tomorrow morning.”

  Rising up on her tiptoes, she presses her lips to mine, and I kiss her back with enthusiasm. Sinking into her is the best high I’ve ever known. No matter how old we get, that’s one thing that never changes.

  As she walks back into the main house, Mitch, a brother down from the Mercy chapter, catches my eye.

  “Mitch!”

  Making his way over to me, he asks, “What do you need, Pres?”

  “This fed coming, if he shows up with friends, I’m going to need you to ride to Mercy. We’ll need the word out, and we may need reinforcements. I’m sending the prospect into town to keep watch. When he calls saying we’ve got company, you ride.”

  “You got it.”

  Inside, Slade is perched at the bar, nursing a whiskey. “How’s Kristen?”

  I feel for her, I really do, and I would fight on behalf of Slade for her, but I don’t care for her, and never have. She’s a liability. But still, she’s the woman my brother loves, so I ask after her.

  “She’s a lot better these days. She’s staying with Nina and Sebastian. They’re not leaving the house, and will call if anything
happens.”

  “That’s good to hear, brother. How are you?”

  “I should’ve found out who he was. It’s my fault he was able to wear a prospect patch. I failed you and the club.”

  This is a conversation that won’t be happening. Tal slipping through the cracks is on me.

  Ricky hollers from the door, “Cas! We’ve got company!” Getting to my feet, I make my way outside and see a couple standing at the gate.

  From the way the man is carrying himself, I have no doubt that he’s a fed. The woman, however, she screams mother.

  “Is it just the two of them?” I ask Ricky.

  “Yeah. Drove up in a swanky Jeep parked across the road.”

  Flanked by Sparky and Slade, I square my shoulders, prepared for anything.

  “If you’re lost, town is that way,” I say, jabbing my thumb down the road.

  The woman steps forward, her gloved hands latching onto the gate. “Unless my son is there, I think I’m right where I need to be.”

  “Who’s your son?” Sparky asks, goading her.

  “Cut the crap. Don’t treat me like an idiot. Do not deny you know who I’m talking about and where he is.”

  Her no shit attitude would be admirable if she wasn’t the mother of a dirty fucking rat.

  The guy moves to her side. “Drop the pretence. We know you have our son, and I have a good idea as to why, but I couldn’t give a shit about that. Hand Ethan over to us, and you’ll never have to see him again.”

  “I could kill him and never have to see him again.”

  They don’t even flinch, which irritates me. They’re impressively calm, and it makes me wonder what they know that I don’t? Calm people in these situations tend to have a card up their sleeve.

  “You have one chance to give him to us, or I’ll make one call and your club will be swarming with agents.”

  And there it is. In my opinion, they’re playing it early, but it’s a threat that carries weight.

  “You think that scares us? Your son has already brought a fed to our door, and it’s only a matter of time before more show up.”

  The guy frowns, seeming confused.