The Club Betrayal: #8 Sons of Lost Souls MC series

by R. Hunter, Ellie

  “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.”

  With nods of agreement, I bring my bike to life.

  “What do you want us to do?” Aaron asks over the roar of my bike.

  “You’ll wait with my men.”

  I roll my bike toward the gate as he and Grace head for their car, and signal for my brothers to ride. They can catch up and drive behind us. He said there wasn’t a fed looking into us, but regardless of what he says, there is a fed in town who’s hopefully still alive. At least when he gives his reports to his superiors, he can tell them it wasn’t a Lost Soul who put hands on him.

  Half a mile out from the Mill, I slow to a stop, and everyone follows suit. Once the last engine has been cut, the silence echoes. The calm before the storm. Or, in our case, the calm before a fight.

  Pope comes up beside me, taking his gun from his holster, and tips his head, waiting on my orders.

  “Take the lead on who’s surrounding the place. You hear a gunshot, you come in shooting. You hear me whistle, hold fire until you have eyes on me, yeah?”

  “You got it. Be careful, and bring our boys out.”

  “I will, brother.”

  Sparky, Slade, and Ricky are waiting when I reach them, and together, we head for the back entrance into the mill. I could care less where Aaron and Grace are, but I know Pope is itching to shoot them, and will if they put a foot wrong and blow our chances of getting our sons out of there alive.

  That’s what having a brother at your back means. You trust them fully, and after so long, they can act without having to be ordered because they know what you would want them to do.

  “Zach said they were all good, but it took us twenty-three minutes to ride out here. Anything could’ve happened in that time,” Slade mutters.

  “Nah, I don’t think so. This guy wants his son’s killer, and he’s different from everyone else we’ve fought. He hasn’t come for us, just Cas. Not that he knows it was you for sure,” Sparky notes.

  “Our boys are smarter than we give them credit for. Maybe it’s about time we actually think of them as men,” Ricky says, his eyes focused on the mill in the distance.

  “Boys or men, they’re still little fuckers,” Sparky snorts through a laugh.

  I chuckle at his description. “They come from us, don’t they?”

  If Leo hadn’t returned to the club with the girl, I would’ve trusted him to keep himself alive and have the backs of his brothers. He doesn’t know any different. He’s been watching JJ and Zachery’s backs since they were all old enough to walk, and it’s the same with the twins. They’re just like me and these men I walk with now, only a different generation. The same morals and principles apply, and that’ll never change. My brothers’ sons inside are made of the same stuff as Leo, and I trust every one of them to keep themselves alive.

  Sparky rubs his chin thoughtfully. “To be fair, though, if it was us in there at their age, we’d already be in a shootout.”

  “Hence, why I said they were smarter than we give them credit for,” Ricky snickers, but I hear the strain in his tone.

  “They’ve been through so much over the last couple of years. Let’s not give them anything more to deal with,” Slade acknowledges, and we all fall into silence.

  Michael Blake, the previous president of the Lost Souls, who died a long ass time ago, bought this place because it was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees. Complete privacy.

  We head for the trees, and then to the back door. Pulling it open, Bert’s voice is the first thing I hear. The boys are up on the second level, so we creep along the wall and up the stairs, coming to a stop before we can be seen.

  JJ sees us first and nods. I scan the second level walkway, making sure every son is alive and breathing. Content when they are, my eyes drop to the rat and I snarl when his head whips around in my direction.

  I’m going to take great pleasure ending his life. One way or another, he is going to die.

  Whispering to Sparky, “Wait here,” I make my way over to JJ while Bert bangs on about being fed information on the rat’s parents the whole time he was incarcerated.

  “He likes the sound of his own voice, that’s for fucking sure,” JJ snarls, rolling his eyes.

  “Then I should shut him up.”

  Holding my finger to my lips, I make sure every brother knows to stay quiet before I move clear of the pillar and lean on the railing.

  “Your boy talked a lot too, yet had nothing to say. I see now where he got it from.”

  Bert’s head snaps up, his chest rising, enjoying having me in his sights, like a junkie laying their eyes on the gear.

  Getting to his feet, he motions for his men to step back. “Ah, Cas, I’m glad you could join us. I take it we’re now surrounded?”

  “What is this to you, huh? You must know you won’t walk out of here alive?” I call down to him.

  “It’s the last move in the game.” Spreading his arms wide, he grins. “But I’m not going down alone.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Alone is exactly how you’re going to die.”

  Darting my eyes to the door, I see Grace and Aaron standing there. Bert, turning his attention to where I’m looking, beams. These two are a pain in my fucking ass.

  “Catherine,” he purrs, like a father would when laying eyes on a long-lost daughter.

  “Her name is Grace,” Aaron growls, clenching his fists.

  “She’ll always be Catherine. Changing a name doesn’t change who you really are. I must admit, when I saw your son, I didn’t expect to ever lay eyes on the two of you again. I hear you’ve made quite a home in England, or were you staying in your lake house here in the States?”

  When they showed up at the club, they gave nothing away. Facing off with their old enemy, their shock, mixed with hatred, is clear for all to see.

  “I’ve known every move you’ve made since you were born. Prison didn’t stop me,” he tells her.

  “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance,” Aaron growls, stepping closer to his wife.

  “I could say the same about you.”

  “We both have another chance. Question is, who’s faster?” Grace whips her gun from out of her pocket.

  Aiming straight for the old guy’s head, Sparky shuffles closer to my side, as Bert’s men draw their weapons, starting the standoff.

  “What’s our next move? Because this is starting to feel like we’re in their way,” Sparky asserts quietly.

  “The only people walking out of here today are Lost Souls. Give it a few minutes, and we’ll see how this plays out. If they kill each other, it saves us the hassle.”

  “Still have to bury the bodies, though.”

  Snorting, I keep my eyes on the scene playing out before me.

  “You can’t honestly be surprised someone took Danny out. He was never the guy who played nice with others. He only looked out for himself,” Grace bellows.

  Her hand is steady; I believe she won’t hesitate to shoot. Fuck, she killed her own father, so this guy should be no problem.

  “He was still my son,” Bert roars, losing his cool.

  “And we’re here for ours. In order to get him back, you need to die.”

  Aaron takes a single step away from Grace toward Bert, scanning his men. A total fed move.

  Once a fed, always a fed.

  “I see no patches on your men. How loyal are they? Are they willing to die for you or because of you?”

  Bert’s lips purse tightly together as he clasps his hands behind his back. Grace and Aaron can’t see from where they stand, but from up here, I can see the butt of his gun popping out of the back of his pants.

  However this goes down, I still need Aa
ron to dig into the fed Bert captured. Pushing away from the railing, I stroll around the walkway and plod down the stairs. Numerous sets of eyes follow me, and I make sure to show my hands are free of weapons.

  “Mark my words, you will all die today. Never again will you see the outside of these walls. If you drop to your knees and throw down your guns, you’ll live to see another day. You don’t need to die for this asshole. He has no loyalty to you, and he’d rather see you dead than him.”

  My words trickle into their pinprick minds, and they look to one another before the big fucker on the end falls to his knees, places his gun on the floor, and shoves it away, out of his reach. Like dominos, fourteen men sink to their knees and surrender their weapons.

  The two on either side of Bert remain still, but the majority of his men no longer pose a threat to me or mine.

  Piercing the air with a whistle, Pope walks in with the rest of our brothers, guns aimed at anyone who isn’t us. Jerking my chin toward the men on their knees, they pale when my brothers stand behind them, our guns pointed at the backs of their heads.

  “I have no loyalty to you, either. You came to town to hurt my club. You came here today to kill our sons. You don’t get to come back from that.” Roaming my eyes up and down the kneeling men, my disgust for them grows. “When will people learn? You come for my club, you’ll die.”

  With a nod, Pope opens fire, and the first fucker falls forward, the blood from his head seeping onto the floor.

  Thirteen shots echo around the empty mill, and thirteen more bodies fall to their deaths. The two remaining guys actually loyal to Bert stand taller, bracing themselves for their deaths to come for them at any moment. Gripping their guns a little tighter, their eyes flit from brother to brother, waiting to see who’s going to shoot first.

  The game has just been ramped up, and I don’t plan to be on the losing side.

  “You just can’t find loyal men these days,” Bert grunts. “I’m almost envious of you, Cas. No one understands what the patch means, knowing that when you step outside, you’re never alone.”

  “My father was never loyal to you. You fed his ego, and that’s why he kept you around,” Grace spits out, her aim never wavering.

  “He wasn’t loyal to you, either, Catherine.”

  Enough of this. Their shitshow of a history has nothing to do with us, and I’m growing tired of listening to their back and forth.

  “You want your son, shoot him, and be done with it already,” I snap, pulling her attention away from Bert.

  It’ll be the first mistake I make today.

  With her eyes on me, she doesn’t see the guy on Bert’s right lift his gun slightly higher and squint his eye for a better aim.

  My lips part to yell for her to shoot, but the shot fired doesn’t come from her gun. Life is a series of moments that can never be reclaimed. You don’t get do-overs. One moment of her focusing on me is the reason the bullet enters the left side of her forehead, dropping her to the floor.

  Swinging my eyes to Bert, I catch the fine trails of smoke floating out of the guy’s barrel.

  Chapter Twenty

  Ethan

  My mother’s body hits the floor, the thud a powerful blow. So much so, it knocks the breath from my lungs. JJ inches closer, and Zach’s face pales as his eyes drop to mine. I slide my gaze back to my mom who still isn’t moving, the bullet wound still there. I’m not fucking dreaming. Launching up to my feet, I shove my shoulder into JJ and run past him. My feet pound the metal walkway, knowing he’s close behind, but not close or fast enough. Flying down the stairs, I misjudge the last step and crash forward. Rolling onto my side, I’m back up before JJ can reach me, and I run to my mom.

  Cradling her head in his hands, my dad begs, “Please, baby, open your eyes.”

  The rational part of me knows she’s never going to wake up again, but it doesn’t stop the part of me that has some fucked-up hope that she’ll somehow wake up.

  The voices around me are a muffled buzz. I squeeze my mom’s hand so hard, she’d have cried out if she were alive to do so. But she’s not, and her hand hangs lifeless in my hold.

  This is all my fault. She wouldn’t even be here if I had just gone to college like she wanted. I lied to her time and time again, telling her I was travelling the world, when really, I was in the middle of her worst nightmare. A nightmare she survived herself many years before I was born.

  “I lost over twenty years because of you, and now, watching you suffer over her dead body, pleases me greatly. But not as much as this will.”

  At Bert’s words, I look up to see his own gun aimed straight at my dad. Like it’s all happening in slow motion, I lurch forward just as he fires off a shot.

  Before I can shield my dad, before I can tell him I’m sorry for dragging them into my mess, and before I can even tell him I love him, his body slumps over my mom’s chest, blood pumping from his head.

  “Noooo!”

  Shots fire off all around me, but all I see are my parents, dead before me. They were all I had, and now they’re gone.

  I start to heave next their bodies. Being that I haven’t eaten in the last two days, only bile comes out.

  Using the sleeve of my hoodie, I wipe mouth with my bound hands, a reminder that I’m a dead man walking. With my parents gone, I have nothing left to lose.

  Jumping up to my feet, I lurch toward the old man, only to make it three feet before arms wrap around me and slam me to the floor.

  “Oh, no, he’s ours.”

  Looming over me, Mason digs his foot into my chest. Relaxing into the floor, I don’t bother trying to fight against him as I let the first tear fall. All I can think of is the night my father fell through the door, beaten and stabbed, trying to do the right thing by ridding the streets of bad guys, and now he’s dead from trying to save me.

  Cas crouches beside me and grips my chin, forcing me to look at him. I don’t expect to see pity, but I fully expected the dirty smirk he wears.

  “Looks like our deal with your parents for your life is null and void.”

  Shoving my chin away, he rises to his feet and holds his arms wide, staring at Bert.

  “This is what you wanted, a face-off with me, and now you’ve got it.”

  Bert’s voice fades as I close my eyes. I don’t care about dying—not now. I can’t live in a world where my parents don’t. Since the day I was born, it was always the three of us. It wasn’t always conventional, moving every couple of years when my dad got a new case, but we made it work.

  The Lost Souls will no doubt have plans for me, but nothing will hurt as much as this.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Cas

  What a fucking shitshow this turned out to be. Anger runs through me so strongly, I can taste it as I bite down on my tongue. We needed Grace and Aaron to clean up the fed mess before we took them out, not this old fuck with a two-decade old grudge to bear.

  “You stand here alone, old man. If you had a death wish, why not just walk into our clubhouse and leave out the time wasted in between?”

  His laugh agitates me further, and I nearly pierce my front teeth through my tongue.

  “Where’s the fun in that? This way, I’ve got much more than I came here looking for. I took out old enemies, and when you take out your rat infestation, their bloodline will cease to exist. Anyway, who says this is my death wish? I choose how I go out, and I’ll go out by bullet, not by the fucking cancer that riddles my body. But, like I said, I won’t be alone.”

  Moving slowly, I stop in front of him, blocking most of my brothers from his view, and smile.

  “You don’t fear death, but neither do I. I fear who I leave behind, but you don’t have that luxury, do you? You have no one.”

  “Best way to be,” he says, shrugging. “After Dex told me it was you who killed my boy, I knew coming here would be my last move. And you’re right, I don’t fear death. My time is over, but sure as shit, I will take you with me.”

  Lifting
the gun in my hand, I aim for his chest, while he mirrors my stance, aiming his gun at mine.

  “Give the word, Cas, and we’ll pump every bullet we have into his body,” Pope growls.

  I don’t take my eyes off of Bert, but I can see from the corner of my eye my brothers inching closer, their guns ready.

  “No. I killed his son, and I’ll kill him too.”

  Bert’s grin shifts from one of cockiness to one of peace. The fucker knows there are only a handful of breaths left for him to take.

  “You want me dead, you best shoot me. Time’s running out,” I warn, squeezing the trigger.

  Years ago, I had no voices in my head screaming for me to escape this situation and stay alive. Since the day I gave myself to Alannah, her screams fill my head as if she were here. The fire from my gun hits the air a second before Bert’s, but we fall to the floor at the same time. Chaos erupts around me as I roll my head to the side to make sure I hit my target. Bert coughs up blood, but he’s not dead yet. My shot missed his heart by a couple of inches. Lifting my head, I look down at my stomach, seeing the blood staining the T-shirt under my cut.

  “Kill that asshole!” I yell. Before I even get the words out, numerous shots are fired, and I strain to look over to my brothers surrounding Bert’s bullet riddled body.

  Sparky and Pope drop down beside me, their hands pressing down on my wound to stop the blood.

  “We need to get you to the hospital, brother,” Sparky pants, worry marring his features.

  Shaking my head, or thinking I am, I say, “You need to find the fed. Aaron can’t help us for shit now.”

  “I’m more fucking concerned about you right now.”

  I roll my head over to look at Pope, knowing he’ll be the one to act with a cool head.

  “Get the rat out of here. He tries anything funny, kill him, and bury them all somewhere no one will ever find them.”

  Nodding, he heaves himself up and gets to work.