His Twisted Heart : Sons of Lost Souls MC Series Book Nine

by Ellie R. Hunter

“How sweet of you to offer, but I’m good. What do you want?”

  My brothers only call when they want something.

  “Cas has called a meeting, and Aspen needs someone to hang with while we’re otherwise occupied.”

  “You want me to babysit her? Why can’t she just go home?”

  “Tori, please.”

  Please?

  My brother never says please.

  I sigh long and hard. I’m already grabbing my coat before I say, “I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

  Hanging up, I dump my phone inside my coat pocket and head out. No one’s around as I make the short walk over to the clubhouse.

  Not bothering to look around for Luca, I zero in on my brothers and Aspen. Putting on my best smile, I walk over, and the first thing out of Mason’s mouth is, “Don’t go far, Tor.”

  Where the hell would I go?

  Rolling my eyes, I reach for Aspen’s hand and pull her away from my brothers.

  “We’re going to the cabin we’re staying in. It’s too cold to do anything else around here.”

  And besides, if I’m in the cabin, I’m not likely to see Luca.

  I brace myself for the cold before stepping outside, but it’s biting. Even with my coat and sweater, there aren’t enough layers in the world to keep warm around here.

  “I’m not going to ask what you got up to with my brothers, and please, don’t tell me a thing. I’ve heard too many stories about them to last me several lifetimes, and each one made me puke in my mouth a little.”

  She laughs, keeping up with me as I pick up my pace back to the cabin where the fire is roaring, and it’s warm.

  “I promise. Although, nothing happened. We got drunk and crashed.”

  Yeah, yeah. Sure.

  “What’s going on back there, anyway? Why can’t we hang around?”

  Climbing the steps up to the porch, I open the door and head straight for the kitchen. A hot cocoa should do nicely. Hopefully, it’ll warm me up from the inside out.

  I fix the kettle and put it on the stove before look at the girl who’s captured the attention of my brothers. She’s pretty. Some would say she’s too pretty. A beauty that gets you into trouble.

  “You met my brothers last night, right?” She nods. “Then I mean no offence when I say, I can’t tell you. Not that I know much. I don’t get involved with the club. My lack of interest and lack of dick means I know nothing they have to deal with. My advice to you, if you’re just having fun with my brothers, is don’t ask questions.”

  “Why?”

  I can already sense she’s going to be trouble. I told her not to ask questions, and there she went, asking another.

  “Two reasons. One, they don’t like talking about their business with anyone who doesn’t wear their patch. I’m sorry to say, but you’re nothing but a woman who can entertain them, and my brothers love the women the most that come with the patch. Secondly, most of the time, you won’t like what you hear if they were to tell you. They’re a motorcycle club. They live their lives how they please. They’re not a church group.”

  When she snorts, I know she’s a lost cause. I decide it’s on her if she doesn’t listen to me.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why did you freak out when that woman’s drink ended up all over you?”

  Swallowing the lump forming in my throat, I look out the window.

  “I was recently… attacked. The guy poured a bottle of whiskey on me and threatened to burn me alive.”

  She has no idea what to say to that, and I’m glad she keeps quiet.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Do you fall in love easily?”

  “I’ve never been in love. Why?”

  “My brothers brought you here, so it’s obvious they want to play with you. The last girl who fell in love with them tried to kill herself after they were done with her. You seem like a nice person, and I love my brothers, but they’re selfish, and they only look out for each other.”

  It’s not like I’m betraying my brothers. When it comes to their games, all players must be in the know. I don’t know this girl, but she should know what they’re about going forward.

  “Do they do this often? Share a girl just to play with her?”

  “Yes, they do this all the time. I don’t think they’ve ever not shared a woman.”

  She leans on the countertop and her brows pinch together.

  “Ever?”

  “Never.”

  Tapping her fingers on the table, she blurts out after a moment, rather nervously, “Can I use the bathroom?”

  I point to the stairs. “It’s the first door at the top.” The kettle on the stove begins to whistle, and while she slips out of the room, I turn my attention to the two cups.

  Filling them up, I set them on the island and wait for her to return, but she doesn’t come down. Making my way up the stairs, I listen for any movement, but it’s so quiet, I can hear my own heart racing.

  Why am I getting nervous?

  The bathroom door is wide open, and she’s nowhere in sight. Heading back downstairs, I find her jacket is gone as well. I didn’t see her take it up with her.

  The twins better not hold this against me.

  Digging my phone out of my coat pocket, I type out a message to Mason.

  Aspen left. Went to the bathroom and never came back. V.

  Instead of putting my phone away, I type out a text to Luca.

  I need to tell you something.

  It’ll be better for the truth to come out now. One thing I’ve learned over recent days is that the truth always comes outs.

  No reply.

  Please.

  For the rest of the day, I continue texting him, but he never replies back. It doesn’t waver my resolve, though. I spend the day looking out of the window, thinking he may turn up here, but he doesn’t.

  Just listen to what I have to say, and I’ll stop harassing you. You have my word.

  My phone pings moments later with his response.

  I’m staying in room 4. Meet me there in an hour.

  My heart is pounding away, and I bite my bottom lip. I have no idea what I even want out of this, but I can’t live with him hating me. I’d rather him lose something from Ellis than despise me for something I had no control over.

  I take another shower, dress in my warmest clothes, and put on a little make-up. I don’t usually wear a lot, but I decide to add some eyeliner.

  The clubhouse is filled with brothers and old ladies. Even a few hang arounds are spread about for the single brothers.

  Just like at home, no one notices me slip up the stairs, and I find room 4 halfway down the hall. The old wooden floorboards creak in protest under my boots. My hands clam up as I twist the doorknob, and then the world erupts into flames as I see Luca fucking some girl from behind. Her face is in the air as he yanks back on her hair, just like he’s done with me so many times.

  The knowing smirk on his face when he looks at me from over his shoulder ices over the flames.

  “Whatever you have to say, say it, then leave.”

  He doesn’t even bother stopping, continuing to thrust his hips repeatedly back and forth. The girl didn’t even realise I had come into the room until he spoke.

  I’ve always called him an asshole, and he’s never denied it. He thinks I’m stupid. He pulled this stunt off perfectly, making sure to hurt me in the worst way.

  “Well done, you’ve finally succeeded in making me hate you, Luca Jackson.”

  I don’t care if he hates me, because it’ll never match the hatred I feel toward him. I’ll live with my secret till the day I die.

  “It’s about damn time,” he grunts, pounding harder into the girl. “Now fuck off.”

  I can’t leave the room fast enough.

  Running down the hall, I take the stairs two at a time, not caring if I miss one and fall. Shoving my way through brothers
in the room, I bolt outside, barely able to see through the tears filling my eyes.

  BANG!

  The first thing I notice is a high whistling pain ringing in my ears. Clutching my head, I fall to the ground, the pain beyond anything I thought existed. The whistling grows louder, and I realise it’s me. I’m screaming. A man’s horrified face hovers over me, but then he’s gone, and I squeeze my eyes shut, as if it’ll help with the pain.

  Minutes drag by, feeling like hours in excruciating pain.

  My eyes grow heavier and my screams fade off as I wait for the darkness that doesn’t come. My brothers lean over me, pulling at my hands. I don’t know what they’re searching for, but it’s not long before Dad takes their place and they disappear from my sight.

  His lips are moving, but I can’t hear a word he’s saying. I’ve never seen my dad afraid before, but as he looms over me, he looks terrified.

  When he scoops me up into his arms, the pain becomes unbearable. I don’t know why, but my hands are wet. As soon as my mom is at our side, everything finally goes black.

  Waking up, the silence I experience is different to just being alone in a quiet room. Sensing I’m not alone, I open my eyes to find Myles at my bedside, and Luca in the room.

  Last night flashes through my mind so fast, it makes me dizzy. It’s actually the pain that makes me dizzy, but I notice they’re talking, and I can’t hear what they’re saying.

  I cry out. I know I made a sound because I can feel my throat straining, but I can’t hear a thing.

  Nothing.

  Raising my hands to my ears, my fingers touch bandages, and that’s when I realise I’m in the hospital.

  Clutching onto Myles’ hoodie, I pull him toward me. “Make him leave. I don’t want him here.”

  I can still speak, but I don’t hear a word I say.

  I see Myles’ lips move, but there’s no sound behind it.

  Luca moves closer and reaches out for my hand, but I flinch away, edging closer to my brother.

  Luca says something, and Myles’ throat bobs angrily as he yells at him. I can only imagine what he’s saying.

  They go back and forth until Mason walks into the room with two cups of coffee. The darkness I see in Luca—more often than not—lurks in his stance, in his eyes, in everything about him, but I’m not afraid of him.

  I don’t ever want him anywhere near me. I meant it last night when I said I hate him. Nothing has changed. This is his fault. If he hadn’t have destroyed me emotionally, I wouldn’t be here right now. It’ll be a cold day in Hell before I ever speak to Luca Jackson again.

  I bury my face in my brother’s hoodie. I don’t see when Luca leaves, but when Myles pushes me away so I can see his face, it’s then I notice it’s only my brothers in the room with me.

  Myles scribbles something down on a notepad and flips it around so I can read it. “What happened?”

  He goes to pass it to me, but I shove it away. The last thing I want to do is explain last night to my them.

  I close my eyes, hiding in the silence of what I’ll need to come to terms with as my new world.

  The path I’ve been on since our first night together has been coming to this, and I should’ve known better.

  My life is ruined over a fucking boy.

  He was my first love.

  His first love was her.

  No matter how long she stays away, he’ll never love anyone else, not ever again.

  I wish him a lifetime of loneliness, which is what I’m facing now.

  II

  Now

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Luca

  Black clouds darken the sky. Rain is in the air, but all I can do is hope this shit show is over with before the heavens open up.

  Lighting a cigarette, I hear my mom’s voice in my head, telling me I’ll end up like my dad, and that I should quit. Taking a deep drag and blowing out the smoke, I lean against the tree and look at the graves, all neatly lined across the cemetery, then shift my gaze over to the freshly dug grave, ready to be filled with a promise I made a long time ago. Off in the distance, the pastor walks in front of a cheap ass coffin. I know it’s cheap, because the asshole taking up eternal residence inside of it died with only a penny to his name. Seriously—one penny.

  The pastor steps to the side, and a lone figure standing behind him has my body tensing. Drawing hard on my cigarette, I flick it away and head in their direction.

  I’d planned on hanging back, out of sight, during the service, only wanting to see the fucker lowered into the ground and covered with six feet of dirt. But one glimpse of her, and I can’t move fast enough.

  She’s back.

  I struggle to breathe through my anger, realising she came back for this asshole, but not for me.

  Coming to a stop across from her, the grave sitting between us, her eyes widen.

  She hasn’t changed much. She’s still more skinny than slim. Her hair is still long, and more blonde than dirty blonde. She still doesn’t wear much make-up, but her clothes show she has money to buy nice things, unlike when she lived with her piece of shit father and struggled to buy secondhand clothes.

  The pastor gives his eulogy, but I don’t care to listen to him calling a child abuser a son of God, and how he’ll be accepted at the pearly fucking gates. He obviously doesn’t know the man he’s sending off, because he sure as shit wouldn’t be making out the world has lost a good man.

  I watch her take me in from my boots, all the way up to my eyes. She might not have changed much physically, but I have. I’m no longer the runt kid who won more fights than not, purely because I gave no fucks, and not because of my size. Kids at school steered clear of me because they knew I’d go as far as I needed to. My arms bulge against the fabric of my T-shirt, and ink creeps out from under the sleeves as I cross my arms over my chest. At six feet two inches, I’ve grown since we were last together.

  Looking away from me, she watches the coffin being lowered into the ground, but I have no intention of letting my eyes stray from her.

  If it was between her and the president, I’d have expected him to be here rather than her.

  The pastor offers her his condolences, gives me a once-over, and heads back to the church, leaving us facing off over the grave.

  “If I knew this would bring you home, I’d have killed him years ago.”

  Her gasp is audible from where I stand. “They said he died from his own doing.”

  The air in my lungs becomes trapped at hearing her voice. It’s no longer meek and shy. She speaks with a confidence she didn’t own before she left.

  “He drank from the bottle himself, and when he was close to passing out, he lit the cigarette, but it was me pointing a gun at his head, forcing him to do so.”

  The fucker passed out before he finished the cigarette, and I left it burning on the couch when it fell from between his fingers.

  “You promised me you’d kill him one day.”

  “Yeah. I keep my promises,” I retort.

  Unlike some people.

  Her eyes drop to my cut and she says, “You always said you wouldn’t join the club.”

  I shrug. “Shit happened, and life changed.”

  She nods like she gets it, but she has no idea.

  “Well, I should go.”

  She doesn’t wait for me to say another word, and it pisses me off. Unlike the last time she left, this time, she graces me with the honour of watching her leave. I don’t know what’s worse, watching her go, or waking up to her already gone.

  “Yeah, leaving is what you do best. I tell you I killed your worthless father, and you go to leave like I don’t deserve fucking answers from you.”

  Stopping, she turns back to me, and I can already see the walls she’s put up for everyone around her. I just never used to be on the outside.

  “I can’t do this, not with you.”

  Turning on her heel, she walks away. I’d chase her, but I fear I wouldn’t be able to control myself.
I can’t exactly pick her up, throw her over my shoulder and keep her at the club.

  Remaining at the graveside until she disappears among the trees lining the cemetery, all I feel is open, angry, and as hurt as I was the day I woke up and found her gone. Our plan was to run together, leave Willow’s Peak, and never look back. Only, she was the one who left without me.

  I head for my bike, letting the gravediggers get to work on filling the hole.

  On the ride back to the club, it almost feels like seeing her was a bad dream. One minute, she was there, and then she was gone again. Thrashing the throttle, I hit the road hard, regretting not chasing her. Who knows how long she’s in town for. Could she already be leaving straight from the service?

  Police sirens blare behind me. Looking in the side mirror, I watch the sheriff’s car ride up on my ass with his lights flashing.

  The last thing I need is this asshole on my case.

  Slowing down, I pull off and come to a stop on the grass verge.

  Officer Prick takes his time hauling his ass out of the car. Listening to his heavy steps walking toward me, I keep my eyes forward as he steps in front of me, huffing and bracing his hands on his hips, his fingers loosely brushing against the cuffs hanging from his belt.

  “How can I help you, Officer?”

  I keep my voice neutral, fighting the urge to ram my fist into his arrogant face.

  “Is it the patch that makes you think you can speed, or are you just stupid?”

  “Considering I wasn’t speeding, I feel I should ask you, is it the badge that makes you think you can just pull me over, or are you just stupid?”

  His eyes pinch and his nostrils flare. If he wants to be a pain in my ass, I can be a pain in his.

  “You were doing nearly a hundred. That’s speeding.”

  “That’s a lie.”

  “And who will be believed? The scumbag biker or the law-abiding sheriff?”

  Fucking hell.

  “Look, I’m sure you have better things to do. Why don’t you tell me what you want, and we can both be on our way.”

  His chest heaves with a long, drawn-out heavy breath, and I sigh with boredom.