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

by Ellie R. Hunter

  “She needs the doctor…”

  The voices fade, and then I’m jolted by an engine roaring in my ears. Straining to open my eyes, I’m able to comprehend that I’m in the van, but this time I’m in the front, not tied up in the back.

  “Why is it taking so long?”

  Rolling my head along the headrest, I stare at Leo, hoping he has the answer I want to hear.

  “What?”

  “To die. I can’t…” I pause, the motion of the van hitting every bump on the dirt road threatening to empty my already empty stomach.

  “Please, take me to the hospital. I didn’t know who he really was, I swear. I just want to live.”

  It could be sweat, but I’m pretty sure it’s tears streaming down my face.

  I don’t want to die, and certainly not for someone who played me just as much as this fucking club. I just wanted to have some fun while stuck in a stifling town where nothing ever happens.

  Well, I guess I got my wish, only this isn’t fun. This is excruciating, and I’d happily not complain about boredom again if it means I get to live.

  With the rain hitting the windshield, I focus on the droplets running down the glass as they’re being swept to the side before the world goes black.

  “What’s going on?” That’s not Leo’s voice. I’m moving again—correction, I’m in Leo’s arms again.

  “She’s burning up. The doc needs to get his ass back here.”

  Opening my eyes, I’m lying in a bed, in a room I’ve not been in before, with thunder rumbling overhead.

  Sitting up, I’m faced with a woman sitting in a chair at the end of the bed. Her long hair hangs over her shoulders, and her eyes look familiar.

  “My name is Grace. I believe you know my son, Ethan.”

  Warily, I keep my mouth shut as I watch her peel her black lace gloves off. At first, I don’t understand, but then I remember Ethan telling me the same thing happened to her. She holds up her ghastly, scarred palms. What she went through happened to her years ago, but the scars, no doubt, faded over time, are still visible, leaving me with no hope that mine will truly heal.

  “Since hearing this happened to you because of my son, I’ve been feeling pain again, like it just happened. I know how you’re feeling.”

  “You really don’t.”

  “You’re angry, confused as to why this happened to you, in pain like you’ve never felt before. And you want to cry, but you know tears won’t change a thing.”

  She’s pretty spot-on.

  “I am so sorry you have to live with these scars now. It’s been over twenty years for me, and I still wear these gloves every time I leave the house,” she murmurs, placing the gloves back on.

  “Most days, I wear them to stop people from staring. People are rude, and fascinated with things they rarely see in real life. But other days, I wear them because I can forget the bad that happened to me, and for a few hours, I can be me with two smooth hands.”

  My lips remain sealed. I’m not interested in her sob story and how she lives with her scars. Everyone is different; I’m nothing like her.

  “I don’t know you, and I mean no offence, but I don’t care what you’ve been through. It doesn’t help me in the slightest. All I know is that I hooked up with a guy wanting to have some fun, and now I’m stuck like a freak surrounded by guys who think I was working with your son to bring them down.”

  “How do you feel about him?”

  “I feel nothing.”

  “I heard you two were together?”

  “You heard wrong. We hung out a few times, but we both knew it was a summer thing. He can hurt as much as I am for all I care.”

  Clasping her hands together, she holds them on her lap. I can see the resemblance she shares with Tal, which only reminds me of how he played me.

  I’m still tired and confused when Leo walks in. Grace stands and frowns down at me.

  “Can we talk later?”

  I return her frown. My instincts are screaming at me not to bother, and I’m going to listen to them. Before I left for my first year at college, my dad drummed into me to always listen to my gut instincts, that they would keep me safe.

  “I have nothing to say to you or your son, and there’s nothing I want to hear from you. As far as I’m concerned, I wish I never met your son.”

  Sighing heavily, she walks past Leo and out the door. Closing it behind her, he crosses the room, holding out a glass of water and three pills.

  “You’re sick because you have an infection in your left hand. The doc gave you a shot and told me to make sure you take this twice a day as well as the pain meds. He’ll be back tomorrow to check on your hands.”

  That explains why I felt like I was dying. Opening my mouth, he places the pills on my tongue and tips the glass to my lips. His eyes watch me as I swallow them down and sit back, letting him know I’m done.

  “Am I back at the club?”

  “Yeah. You can stay here till you feel better.”

  He turns, ready to leave, but I’m not done. I’m fed up with not getting the answers I want.

  “I thought your dad didn’t trust me. He had me…” I stop, unable to bring myself to say I was treated like a prisoner.

  “He’s willing to forget about you calling the fed because it worked to our advantage, and Zara stepped up in your defence that you weren’t mixed up in the rat’s business to take us down.” Stepping closer to the door, he adds, “You’ve been hurt enough. I stepped in with my dad on your behalf.”

  Climbing out of the bed, I unsteadily make it to the door before he can open it and disappear.

  “Why would you do that?”

  His close proximity isn’t lost on me. Tipping my head back to look up at him, I hold his gaze, making it clear I want answers.

  “I don’t know. Make me regret it, though, your hands will be the least of your problems.”

  Him not knowing himself doesn’t help me, and no amount of trying to work him out helps me in figuring out why he’s helping me now. I have no idea who he is or what he’s about, but for now, I have to trust he’s on my side or I’m going to lose my sanity, which is teetering on the edge as it is. Grabbing my arms, he lifts me with ease to the side and twists the doorknob. Without looking at me, he inquires, “Do you feel well enough to come down to the bar?”

  I still feel like shit, but I’m not exactly excited about being in a room, feeling like a prisoner.

  “I’m okay.”

  “Stay close to me, and you’ll be fine.”

  Strangely, around him, I believe I will be.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ethan

  “Where did Leo take Holly?” I ask JJ.

  He’s the only one still hovering close by. If I could choose one of them to ask, I’d ask Zachery. He’s the most likely to answer me, but he’s still by the door, and I won’t delude myself with thinking the twins will give me anything I want.

  “Why do you care? You said it yourself, she isn’t your woman.”

  Biting my tongue, I hold back my retort. I just want to know if he’s taking her to get help. I’ve never had full trust in these guys, and today is no different. In the time I’ve spent here, they’ve never let a woman suffer by their own hands, but they don’t trust Holly. And seeing as she isn’t one of theirs, I just don’t know.

  When JJ’s phone rings, he arches his brow at me before answering. Turning his back on me doesn’t help hide the one-sided conversation; I can still hear him.

  “Brother?”

  His shoulders sag, so I expect it to be good thing. “Yeah, okay.” Pausing, he adds, “She didn’t look so good. I’m not surprised.” More silence, followed by, “You did what? Why?” more fucking silence. “Talk to you later.”

  He hangs up and stores his phone back in his pocket before turning back to me.

  “Looks like the woman who isn’t your woman has an infection in one of her hands.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “Does it matte
r?”

  “Is she safe? At least tell me that.”

  “I don’t think you want to know.”

  That just makes me want to know even more. Fucking prick. “Just tell me.”

  “Fine. For some reason, Leo has put a claim on her. She’s as safe as any of us right now.”

  No! I go to get up, but my restraints bite sharply into my skin, reminding me that I can’t move anywhere.

  “He put a claim on her? He can’t do that! Why would he do that?”

  This doesn’t make any sense. It’s bad enough I dragged her into this fight, and she’s now deformed because of it. If Leo has put a claim on her, it means he sees something in her she doesn’t want him seeing.

  JJ, not bothered at the news, shrugs.

  “What’s crawled up the rat’s ass?” Myles calls over, everyone’s eyes on me.

  “The girl, Holly, isn’t coming back. Leo claimed her, and he’s keeping her at the club.”

  Zachery is first over, and gets in JJ’s face. I watch the two, and JJ, never one to shrink away from anything, shocks me by taking a step back.

  “Say that again?”

  Holding up his hands, JJ tells him, “I’m sure he has his reasons, brother.”

  “What reasons would they be?” he pushes.

  “I have no fucking idea, but you know him. He wouldn’t do this out of the kindness of his heart.”

  Spinning on his heel, Zach storms to the open doors and steps out, braces his hands on his hips, tilts his head back, and lets the rain assault him.

  “If he just wanted to fuck her, he wouldn’t put a claim on her. There’s a reason,” JJ mutters, more to himself, but the twins hear him and smirk.

  “I don’t know. I heard your old man put a claim on your mom to get her into bed back in the day,” Myles chuckles.

  “Yeah? I heard your dad had to plough through junkie needles just to put his dick in your mom, and then get tested for Aids, all while your grampa watched.”

  Mason barks out a laugh, nearly falling off his chair from doubling over, holding his stomach.

  “Grumps will like that one when I tell him.”

  Paling, JJ waves his hand dismissively. There’s not one person in the club who hasn’t suffered in one way or another. I’ve heard all kinds of stories since I showed up, and none of them have been pretty.

  “I thought he gave up the smokes?” Myles mumbles quietly as we all look to Zach, now hanging in the doorway.

  “He gave up the weed, and he doesn’t smoke cigarettes when he’s around Nina and the kid.”

  Out of them all, I only felt sorry for Zach, and then for Nina. My pity only lasted so long with him until he didn’t leave the club like his old man. But then again, Slade came back. At times, I’ve felt the pull the club gives you, believing this world is all you need, but then I think of my mom. I think of all the people who have lost their lives because of them.

  “Hey, we’ve got company coming,” Zach hollers, tossing his smoke out into the rain.

  “I just spoke with Leo. He didn’t say anyone was coming out here,” JJ calls back.

  The twins sit up and reach for their guns.

  “Not our vans. There are three of them.”

  “Close the doors,” JJ instructs, pulling the gun out from the back of his pants.

  Mason jogs over and helps Zach pull the doors closed before joining Myles, who both head up the stairs to the second level. I’ve been up there once, and there’s only abandoned offices and another bathroom, but the walkway covers the three sides of the mill, giving them a clear view of everything down here.

  When the vans approaching come to a stop, JJ joins Zach by the doors, each of them taking up positions on either side.

  “It’s Bert, and there’s…” Zach’s voice trails off, as if thinking, “sixteen guys with him.”

  “What the fuck are they doing here?”

  “It can’t be for anything good. Let Cas know.”

  JJ shoots off a text, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he types. His phone pings seconds later, and he throws Zach a manic grin.

  “They’re on their way.”

  There’s no noise coming from outside besides the rain, which isn’t letting up, and Mason shouts down, “Find out what they want. We need to stall them.”

  Zachery takes the lead, yelling out to Bert, “What do you want, old man?”

  While they’re busy focusing on the newcomers, I use every muscle and wiggle my wrists until the binds loosen a fraction.

  “Only what I’m owed,” he yells back.

  “He’s gotta be talking about Cas.”

  Rolling his eyes, JJ mutters, “No shit.”

  “What’s the plan, brothers,” Myles calls down.

  “If we start shooting, it’ll lead the club straight into a fight. We need to lure them in here while keeping our asses alive,” Zach advises.

  Looking over at me, JJ takes a deep breath and says, “We’ll set up on the second floor. I’ll take the rat up, and when we’re clear, you open the door and get up the stairs before they walk in.”

  “You think they’ll just strut in here like that?”

  “For them to be here, they already know they outman us. This guy doesn’t give a shit. He’ll walk in.”

  “Okay. Go.”

  Jogging over, JJ wastes no time grabbing my arm and hauling me up to my feet. Using the barrel of his gun, he shoves it against the middle of my back, urging me toward the stairs. At the top, he stops me behind a pillar and shoves my shoulder down until I’m on my ass.

  From here, we still have a clear view of the first floor, while having the pillars as a shield.

  “You move, I’ll put a bullet in you, no matter what deal Cas has with Mommy and Daddy.”

  “Untie me—I can help.”

  I already know I’m wasting my breath when he snorts. “You think I trust you to have my back, rat?”

  “He’s our enemy,” I argue.

  “You’re wrong. You’re both our enemy, and we’re keeping you both close.”

  “I—”

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  The stairs creak under Zach’s weight as he climbs to the top and takes position behind the pillar next to ours.

  “When they venture inside, let Cas know what they’re facing when they get here,” JJ orders Zach, showing the unspoken hierarchy between the two.

  It’s a few minutes before anyone steps over the threshold. Bert walks in, surrounded by his men, using them as a human shield.

  His eyes dart to every corner, but not out of fear of bullets coming toward him. His chin is high, his shoulders relaxed.

  Coming to a stop in the middle of the room, he does a three-sixty slow spin. When he looks up, he laughs.

  “Hiding, are we?” he bellows, laughing some more. “A warehouse full of sons of the men who killed my son. I should wipe you all out— sons for a son.”

  “Good luck with that,” Myles yells from behind his.

  “I do hope you’ve let your president know I’m here.”

  Dragging a chair from the table, he places it in the middle and tips his head for his men to tighten their circle around him.

  They shuffle in, but we can still see him from up here. He pulls out a pack of smokes and lights one up, taking great delight in inhaling deeply and blowing the smoke upward.

  “While we wait, why don’t we talk, Ethan? Tell me, are your mom’s hand still crispy?” he laughs.

  Motherfucker.

  “I must admit, I was surprised to see you wearing a cut after everything your parents did to get away from the life. I shot your mom once, and I regret to this day it wasn’t in the head. And your piece of shit dad, how’s he doing these days after surviving a gut wound? So many happy memories of seeing them bleed, but sadly, not of them dying.”

  It’s taking everything I have to keep my mouth shut.

  “Hey, Ethan? Did your mom ever tell you about where she came from?” I open my mouth, ready to answer, when JJ a
ngrily whispers, “Don’t say a fucking word.”

  “No? I’ll tell you. She grew up in a club much better than this pussy club you’ve come to know. Her daddy, your granddaddy, was a man you could follow, and he took no prisoners. There was a brother who wanted nothing but to fuck your mom, and had to be watched all hours of the day when she was around. He ended up killing a whore, and that’s who your mom went to prison for. To me, she was safer behind bars than she was around him. Of course, your daddy came to her rescue, killing him in the end.

  “I can still remember the smell of her burning flesh as your granddaddy took a torch to her hands. I couldn’t get the smell out of my nose for weeks. She passed out after a while, but her screams… ah, I can still hear them today. Music to my fucking ears.”

  I can’t take much more of this shit.

  “You should thank me. At least I knocked your girl out before I fucked up her hands. Couldn’t have people hearing her screams at the motel.”

  Swallowing the bile rising up my throat, I bang the back of my head against the pillar, trying to tune him out by imaging how I would kill him if I had the chance.

  Holding his phone up, Zach sweeps it across the main floor beneath us. If I’m right, he’s taking a video. Putting the phone close to his mouth, he whispers something into the speaker. The rest of the Lost Souls will come, guns blazing, that’s for sure. But even with a deal being struck between the club and my parents, it’s hard to believe this won’t be the day I die.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Cas

  Brothers are on their bikes, ready to ride, when a text comes through from Zachery. A ten second video pops up, showing me the old mill with Bert sitting in the middle of it, surrounded by his men.

  “They’re all inside. Come quietly, and come through the back door,” Zach whispers.

  Good work, Zach. Putting two fingers to my lips, I pierce the air with an ear-splitting whistle to get everyone’s attention.

  “There are sixteen men with Bert in the Mill, all hovering around on the first floor, our boys on the second. Zach said to come quietly, so we’re going to ride to the fork in the road and walk the last half mile so we’re not heard. When we get there, you’ll all surround the place while Sparky, Slade, Ricky, and I go in through the back door.”