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

by Ellie R. Hunter

  “Okay, okay,” he blurts out as I stand behind him, looking down at his hands tied behind his back. “He was an old acquaintance of my dad who retired after my dad did. He takes on jobs to help with the boredom. Once a fed, always a fed.”

  “Bullshit. He had his credentials. The feds take them off you when you’re dismissed.”

  “I don’t know how he had them. I got into contact with him after Ind—after Ellis.”

  “What did you give him, and don’t fucking lie or hold anything back,” I growl.

  “I told him everything that happened with Ellis. I told him to look into the death records of everyone who’s died, and then we were building intel on the deal with the Haywards.”

  Fucking Christ.

  Pope’s nostrils flare. “Where was he staying? And don’t tell us you don’t know.”

  “Twelve-ten West Street in town.”

  He has nothing to lose by telling us the truth at this point, but he has his pride, and only time will tell if he’s still clinging to it.

  “Pope, take the twins and go check it out. I don’t want you seen. No cuts and no bikes.”

  I don’t want the whole street hearing them show up; it’ll bring too much attention to them.

  “Whether you’re telling us the truth or what we want to hear doesn’t matter. You still have to pay.”

  “What? But I told you…”

  Lighting the blowtorch, the blue flame is fierce. I take a deep breath before putting it to his hands. I’m not one to take pleasure from someone’s pain, but he doesn’t count. When it comes to one of us, no one else matters, and when he starts to scream, the sound is music to my ears.

  Releasing my finger on the button, the flame dies out, his body jerking from the pain. Leaning down, I say in his ear, “I wonder if your mom screamed as loud as you?” just to fucking taunt him.

  Off to the side, I hear a phone ring and Slade answer. He’s not on the call long before he’s walking over to me. Standing straight, he leans into me and whispers, “Alannah wants you at the hospital, now.”

  “She say why?”

  My heart pounds as I wait for his answer.

  “Cas flatlined.”

  Fuck.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Leo

  I miss the monotone beeping of the machines. The continual flatline hasn’t left my head since we were rushed out of the room and locked out. Sparky comes running around the corner, and I can’t bear to look at him.

  “Is he…?”

  Even his voice sounds like he knows my dad is dead.

  “We don’t know anything. No one is telling us anything,” Mom replies, her voice shaking.

  “Probably because you threatened to have them all killed if they didn’t save him,” Luca groans.

  “Yes, well, they needed to know what waits for them if he—”

  “Don’t say it,” I growl. “He’s just being a stubborn bastard, but he’s going to be fine.”

  Mom’s sob is broken by the doors opening and dad’s doctor stepping out. Jumping to my feet, I cross my arms over my chest, willing him to say the only words I want to hear—I need to hear.

  Luca steps up beside me and grips onto my arm. Placing my hand over his, we share in our uncertainty.

  If this is to be bad news, it will become my job to look out for him. Not that I don’t do that anyway, but it’ll be different. He’ll my responsibility, just like the brothers.

  “We were able to stabilise your husband. He made us fight, but he’s stable. You can sit with him, but only one at a time.”

  Mom follows the doctor, and I’m about to sit down when Luca throws his arms around me. I don’t bother saying a word. Understanding the relief he’s feeling, I hug him back.

  Pulling away, Sparky’s phone rings, and I swallow the lump in my throat, thanking whoever I need to that my dad is still here.

  “You sure?” he says.

  Falling into the chair, I bang my head against the wall to break up of fog. Ending his call, Sparky walks over, stopping directly in front of me.

  “We found out the fed was shacked up in town. I sent Pope and the twins to his apartment, where they found his walls covered with our pictures, our histories, and a lot of fucking information on the club. They cleared it out and burnt it all to ashes.”

  Nodding, I sigh. At least one thing is going right today. All we need now is for Dad to wake up.

  Luca sits forward. “Still no word on the fed?”

  “Nothing. It’s like he vanished into thin air.”

  Sometimes, I wish I could vanish into thin air too.

  “He’s awake and asking for you.”

  Straining my eyes open, Mom and Sparky look down at me, but I can’t move.

  “He’s fucking awake, Leo, just like you said he would,” Sparky says, arching his brow.

  “You need to see him for yourself, darling. He’s going to be okay,” Mom assures me.

  Heaving myself up, I stretch my arms above my head, and my back cracks in three different places.

  Dad’s room isn’t far, and Mom and Sparky mutter something about going for coffee.

  I stop by his window, and sure as shit, his eyes are open. I sigh in relief. I knew that motherfucker was stronger than fucking steel. Walking into his room, I close the door behind me and sit beside his bed.

  “Sparky said you refused to even contemplate taking my patch. While I appreciate you not giving up on me, you do it again, I’ll haunt you forever. If I’m ever in this position again, you fill my shoes.”

  Wow, he’s going to jump straight in, huh?

  “That’s the job of your VP until your last breath,” I argue.

  “And if I didn’t wake up, would you still have fought taking my patch?”

  “Ever since I can remember, I’ve known I’ll take your patch.”

  “But do you want it?”

  “Let’s talk about it when you’re out of here and feeling better.”

  “No, I need to know that when the day comes, you’ll proudly wear my fucking patch.”

  Even though he’s trying to be strong, he sounds weak.

  “If it’s the right time, and you die of old age, the way it’s meant to be, then yes, I’ll fucking wear it. But, not only is the club not ready for me to lead them, I’m not ready for you to leave us, so let’s stop this now and revisit it when you’re on your deathbed at home, pissing your pants ’cause you can’t control your bladder any longer.”

  A soft chuckle escapes past his lips, and I push up out of my chair.

  “I promised Rayna I’d read her a bedtime story tonight. Now that you’re awake, I don’t feel so bad for leaving.”

  “You get going, and drop your mom and Luca at home on the way.”

  “I’ll be back in the morning.”

  As I make my way to the door, he says, “From now on, you’ll take more of a role in the club, so when the day comes, my patch won’t be so daunting.”

  With a nod, I head out. Once outside, I light up as I wait for Mom and Luca to say their goodbyes by the truck. Having a few moments to myself, I pull out my wallet and slip out the photo of India and me. Running my thumb over her smiling face, I struggle to breathe through the pain in my chest.

  Each day that passes is another day my guilt grows, especially when Rayna is growing so fast, learning something new every day, all without her mom to cheer her on and make a fuss over her.

  Hearing Mom and Luca talking as they approach the truck, I tuck our photo away and shove my wallet back into my pocket.

  Opening the front door, the house is quiet—too quiet. Wandering through to the kitchen, I find Rayna’s juice cup and a plate of half-eaten banana on the table, and the back door open.

  Innocent laughter comes from the yard, and I step out onto the patio to find Holly rolling in the grass, with Rayna trying to crawl after her.

  Holly lands on her back, her chest rising and falling as she tries to catch her breath. Rayna laughs when she catches up to her an
d slaps her stomach. Her laughter has me smiling.

  “Oh, no,” Holly gasps. “You caught me!”

  Careful of her hands, she begins rolling away again, and their little game continues. Slumping into one of the garden chairs, I kick my foot up and dig out my smokes.

  Content to watch them play, I picture Rayna playing like this with India. Mom and daughter. It’s not until Holly’s top rides up, revealing a tight, toned stomach, that my thoughts make me twitch. Inhaling sharply, I drop my foot from the chair and sit forward. I haven’t even seen another woman as anything but someone who was near me at any given time, let alone in a sexual way. A couple of the women at the club, mainly Zara, have offered numerous times to “make me feel better,” but every time, I turn them away.

  Shaking it off, I stand and call out, “Time for dinner.”

  I have no idea if I even have food in the fridge, but I can’t be out here any longer. Without using her hands, Holly uses her arms to lift Rayna, pulling her up to her chest.

  “How long have you been standing there?” she asks when she’s closer.

  “Not long,” I lie, taking Rayna from her.

  I don’t try to sleep anymore. I lay in bed, stare at the ceiling, and wait till I don’t notice I’ve fallen asleep until I wake. If I try and close my eyes, all I see is India, but they’re all memories of the night she died.

  I can barely remember how she felt in my arms. I no longer smell her perfume lingering in our bedroom. Her laugh doesn’t plague me. All I have is the terror in her eyes as she looked at me before she was shot in the head.

  It’s my comeuppance, and I’m prepared to let it haunt me for however long I live. It’s my fault she’s gone, and I don’t care what anyone else says.

  Screaming filling the house has me springing out of bed and reaching for my gun on the nightstand. I rush out into the hall, realising it’s coming from the room at the end I gave to Holly. Checking in on Rayna, who’s sleeping soundly, I close her door and make my way to Holly. The screams intensify when I step into the room to find her thrashing around on the bed.

  The sheets are tangled around her legs, and I stop when it’s clear she’s sleeping in her underwear. I couldn’t give a shit about her modesty. I give a shit that she’s got me twitching in my fucking boxers again.

  Rounding the bed, I nudge her arm until she breaks free of the nightmare she’s suffering through. Jerking away from me, she scuttles to the other side of the bed.

  “You were screaming the house down. Luckily, you didn’t wake Rayna.”

  “I–I’m so sorry. I…oh!”

  Naturally, my eyes drop to her breasts, and when I meet her gaze again, she’s taking me in. I quickly step back.

  “I dreamt I was back in the motel with the guy who burned my hands,” she says, tugging the sheet up her body as best she can.

  “Tomorrow, I’ll drive you to your parents. You can pack some clothes, and whatever else you’ll need to stay here.”

  She holds up her hands. “How will I explain these?”

  “Burnt them while cooking? I don’t know. Just get in and get out.”

  Heading for the door, I don’t stop when she calls my name. I need a cold shower.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Cas

  The meds are pretty fucking good, but I can still feel the hot ache across my stomach. The docs wanted me to stay in for a couple more days for observation, but fuck that. I discharged myself, collected my meds, and got the hell out of there. Being told you died a couple of times kind of makes you want to get out and live your life, and my life is too busy to die again.

  “Once we get you home, I’ll send Luca out to get supplies.”

  “I’m not going home. I’m going to the club.”

  My wife twists around in the front seat, and I know I’m going to have a fight on my hands before I even get out of the car.

  “The hell you are!”

  “Barbs,” Sparky warns.

  “No. He was shot, lost a kidney, and died twice. He’s going home.”

  The turnoff for the club is coming up. “Sparks, take me to the club. If my wife pulls any funny shit, you have my permission to throw her over your shoulder and lock her in the main house.”

  Alannah laughs, and since I know every one of her laughs, this one sends a shiver down my spine. I’m in trouble.

  “It’s as if the two of you actually think you scare me.”

  “Babe, I’ve got a rat to kill, and brothers to bring together. I’m not going home.”

  “You get one hour. I dare you to push that hour and test me.”

  I bite down on my lip to hide my grin she’ll want to wipe straight off if she sees it. I can’t help the chuckle that escapes, though.

  “You can laugh all you want, Cas Jackson, but I wasn’t laughing when you flatlined.”

  And like that, all humour is lost.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll kill the rat quick, talk to the guys, and then I’ll go home.”

  When Sparky drives into the club, I finally relax. I’m home. Parking up, Sparky climbs out to open my door, but I hold my hand up to halt him.

  “I’m going to be fine, babe.”

  Blowing out a long, deep breath, she continues to face forward.

  “I don’t regret a thing in my life, Cas. I have so many amazing memories, and I’ve laughed more than most people ever will. I’ve been lucky, and I’ve been blessed, but loving you the way I do is hard. I’ve understood the life, and I’ve never questioned it, but sometimes I need you to be my husband and for you to let me be your wife.”

  “Babe—”

  “No. I will never have enough time with you, but I’d like to have as much of it as possible, and it—”

  “I get it. I’ll be thirty minutes, and then I’ll be home. I’m not ready to leave you either, but I need the club settled before I can relax and heal.”

  There’s no chance of me chilling out at home, knowing the rat is still breathing, and my brothers need to know it’s time we move forward.

  I try to open the door, but I don’t have the strength to open it completely. Seeing this, Sparky swings it open. Leaning in, I grit my teeth as he helps me out. I hate how much I need his help to get out of a fucking car.

  “Where is everyone?”

  It’s too quiet out here. Sparky hovers close as we walk into the bar, where I find them all waiting on us.

  “Nothing can kill this motherfucker!” Sparky hollers, and my brothers, the men who would die in my place, cheer. Fists bang on tables, overriding the pounding of my heart. This is home, and always will be. But right now, our house needs cleaning.

  Raising my hand, the thunderous noise dies down. “Let’s kill the fucking rat!”

  More cheers circulate while I work to breathe through the pain.

  This is what we need, to act out the final piece of the puzzle. My club needs his blood for their revenge. We need to know the threat is gone for good. This is how we heal, how we’ve always healed.

  The stairs are a bitch, but I make it down and step into the basement, my hand itching to go for my gun. The sight of club betrayal by one of our so-called own is too much.

  “Look who came back from the dead just to take you out.” Sparky starts to laugh, causing Ethan to cringe.

  “Pull me up a chair. Alannah will kill you all if I fall and she finds out.”

  Slade drags a chair over as I unclip my gun.

  Sitting slowly, I inhale deeply and settle in, not caring that I’ll be splattered with his blood being this close.

  “I’ve had a while to think this over, and I’m not going to sit here and question your actions or why you chose my club. The facts are that you approached my club, intending to bring us down. I couldn’t give a fuck if you think your intentions were for good, because they weren’t good for us, and so you’ve been around us long enough to know what happens next.”

  Releasing the safety catch, I run my fingers over the barrel and tilt my head, allowing the peace it
brings to wash over me.

  “I’m going to make this quick. I’m not angry with you anymore, I’m angry at myself for not seeing through you. I could care less what you think of us, as we know we’re good people, and our opinions are the only ones that count. Your life is literally worthless now, isn’t it? You got your parents killed. You have no home. You have nothing. And soon enough, you won’t exist. Yet we’ll go on living and fighting to see another day. We’ll wake up every morning with our families, and we’ll forget you. You’ll just be another body buried in an unmarked grave, no one knowing where you are. Not that you have anyone left to look for you.”

  His lips part and his chest rises, as if he’s ready to speak, but I’m done. I’m so fucking done with everything that isn’t for the benefit of my club. Lifting my hand, I aim my gun at his stomach and unload the clip.

  No one says a word. Time drags on as the asshole bleeds out in front of me, taking his time dying. We all watch in silence as he gargles through his last breath.

  “We will never forget him. To forget him would be lazy and arrogant. He will be a reminder to us that anything or anyone can be a threat to us. That if we become too complacent, we can be crippled.”

  The tense silence eases, and I stand, slowly turning to face my brothers.

  “Everything we once were, everything we thought we knew, is going to change. We will never allow another opportunity for someone to creep in and take us down. We will not allow it.”

  “No, we fucking won’t,” Pope calls out.

  All the brothers nod their agreement.

  “It’s time our bylaws were reviewed. It’s time to modernise them, make them real fucking clear, and it’s time our sons put their brains, as well as their blood, into the bones of this club. But for now, I have to get home before my wife hunts me down. Mason, Myles—”

  “Yeah, we know. Bury the rat,” Mason interjects, a wicked smirk on his face.

  Turning to Pope, Sparky hands me an unlit cigarette to fuck about with. “Anyone heard anything on the fed?”