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

by Ellie R. Hunter

  I look from member to member, and stop on Luca.

  He’s already staring straight at me, and I swallow hard around the lump forming in my throat. He throws me a reassuring smile, and I hold on to it. We have so much to talk about, and I want to live long enough to hash things out with him.

  Two SUVs drive in and stop by Cas and the club. The British guys climb out in their swanky suits, and movement in my peripheral catches my attention. More guys are walking off the plane, forming a line behind us.

  The guy behind me nudges the gun harder against the back of my head, and I do as I’m nudged to do.

  Cas and Sparky walk toward the British guys and start a conversation. I can’t quite read them from here, but I’m guessing he’s negotiating for our release. Or, at least, that’s what I’m hoping is going down.

  I settle my gaze on Luca and focus on him. I take in the stark white patch on his cut and sigh in relief, seeing he’s been patched in. I remember when he vowed, he’d never join the club, and here he is, standing as a brother with them.

  It sure looks good on him.

  My eyes dart down to his hands when I see him slowly signing.

  “In a minute, they’re going to swap you for the Brits. When they say, come straight to me.”

  I don’t dare to sign back, but I give him a barely perceptible nod.

  It all happens so fast. Mason’s hand tightens around mine, and then the gun is nudging my head harder as Mason pulls me forward. As we walk toward to the club, to Luca, Mason keeps hold of my hand and starts walking behind me, as if shielding me. I don’t look back, as I can’t hear what’s going on, but as we reach the van the prospects always drive, Luca is moving around the motorcycles, and is in front of me before I can blink.

  I’m stunned stupid when he wraps his arms around me in front of everyone, but the shock is short-lived, and then his warm hands are framing my face before his lips crash onto mine. Again, it’s short-lived, but in this moment, I forget where we are and what’s going on.

  Keeping his hands around my face, his thumb brushes over the bruise I got from the guy who knocked me out back home.

  “Are you okay?” he mouths.

  I nod, and before I can guess what’s going to shock the shit out of me next, he’s throwing me in the back of the van and into my mom’s waiting arms.

  “Do not leave this fucking van!” he signs vehemently before moving for Mason and Myles.

  They grab guns from a bag I didn’t see, and then move aside for Dad. Snatching up a gun that looks like it belongs in the middle of a war, he slams the door shut, and Mom’s hold on me tightens as she backs us up behind the driver’s seat.

  I can’t help myself. I strain my head up to look out the window, and all I see is people shooting.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Luca

  The Haywards weren’t lying. They’re hands-on and pulling guns from everywhere, unloading the clips at men coming from every direction, killing as many as the club are. They’re just like the brothers, only in designer suits.

  However, there isn’t time to admire the Haywards’ skills. Locking and loading, I inch around the van and aim at a fucker pointing his gun at the back of Angel’s head. Pulling the trigger, the shot hits him straight in the shoulder and he drops to the ground. Making my way over to him, I plant a bullet in between his eyes, and Angel whips around, eyes wide, and nods.

  “Thanks, man.”

  “No worries.”

  “I owe you.”

  “You can suck my dick later.”

  He laughs, but it’s quickly cut off when he raises his gun over my shoulder and fires off a shot. A suited fuck hits the floor with a thud, bleeding out from the neck.

  “Before you thank me, you can suck my dick later,” he quips, causing me to laugh.

  Fist bumping, we stand back-to-back, obviously making a good team, and between us take down three guys before the hangar goes quiet. The fight is over.

  Bracing my hands on my knees, I take a deep breath. It’s over for now. The relief of seeing Victoria more or less unharmed, aside from the bruised cheek, hit me so hard. And knowing she’s now safe in the van, with the assholes who took her dead as dead can be, is even better.

  Stepping over dead bodies, I see Dad on the phone, no doubt to Pope, letting him know his family is safe.

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Ritchie hollers, stepping on a dead guy’s head as he comes toward us. “I promised you a shootout, didn’t I?”

  “See, there was no need to doubt us,” Cody chimes in, and Dad chuckles.

  “We need to hit this Effie bitch before…”

  “Before what?”

  Everyone turns to the female voice whose heels clickety-clack against the smooth hanger floor. The woman is dressed in a tight pant suit, and her hair is the whitest blonde I’ve ever seen, pulled back into a sleek ponytail. She doesn’t look any older than twenty-five.

  I count six men surrounding her as she boldly walks toward us, stopping only when the dead bodies get in her way.

  She takes in the carnage before looking around the men still standing, settling her gaze on Dad and Jamie Boy. Ritchie moves slowly around me—so slowly, I have to watch him to make sure he’s moving at all.

  “Before you resort to threatening my life, be assured, my reach is far. Far enough that I know what each of your wives had for dinner.” She speaks directly to the Haywards, and they all tense. “As we speak, your wives are being watched by my men, a group of ghostly mercenaries that have no trouble taking out women and children. An ocean between me and them cannot keep them safe.”

  From the look of shock and bewilderment on the Haywards’ faces, I’d say they’re the ones who underestimated this woman.

  Ritchie springs from beside me to in front of Effie as fast as a crack of lightning and shoves his gun into her neck, under her chin. Her men move forward, a little too late, but she holds her hand up to stop them. There’s no fear in her eyes. She doesn’t even flinch.

  Instead, her men aim their guns at us, and in turn, we aim at them.

  “I know you want to squeeze the trigger,” she purrs, “but what would Olivia do when my men kick in your door and slit her throat? Will she try to fight back, or will she find the gun you have hidden under her dresser in time?”

  Ritchie slowly steps back, lowering the gun from under her chin.

  “I’m well aware you have snipers surrounding the hangar, so it puts us at an impasse, wouldn’t you agree?”

  She looks down at the dead bodies once again, turning her nose up at them.

  “If you continue to encroach on my territory, I will not be so quick to hand back your people alive.”

  Jamie Boy warns, “We’re coming for all your territory.”

  She only smiles. “Then a war is what you’ll have.”

  Dad grins, baring his teeth. “Nothing new for us, darling.”

  Effie boldly turns around and walks out of the hangar, not a bit afraid of an attack from behind. As soon as her car pulls away, the Haywards are on their phones, putting in calls to their wives.

  As Jamie Boy is closest, I hear him instruct, “I want every man we have in the East Quarter on my family. Pick them up and take them straight to the Manor.”

  Hanging up, he taps away at his phone screen and presses it to his ear. A long moment passes before he says, “Cle, don’t be alarmed, but I’m sending the boys round to pick you and the kids up. They’re taking you to the Manor. Pack a bag, enough for a few days, and don’t answer the door for anyone but Ben.” He goes quiet, no doubt his wife losing her shit, then cuts in with, “I haven’t got time to explain, but just do as I say, and do everything Ben tells you to.”

  Tuning out when he starts telling her he loves her, and for her not to worry, I turn my attention to the van. Seeing the several bullet holes, I run across the hangar and slide open the door. Tor and Kyla are safe, and my neck nearly snaps when I turn to face Dad as he calls out that it’s time to leave.<
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  I wish she were dressed in more suitable clothing, as I’d have her riding with me. Nothing is said between us, and I slide the door shut.

  I climb onto my bike and start the engine just as Angel does. “I’m glad she’s safe and well, man.”

  Yeah, me too.

  I wait while the others mount their bikes, leaving Angel and me the last to ride out, following the prospect van.

  Leaving the dead bodies behind, the Haywards’ SUVs drive out last and pick up speed, passing us with ease as we coast along.

  An almighty bang erupts from behind us, sending Angel and me zigzagging across the road into the airfield. Coming to a sharp stop, flames engulf the hanger, and everyone stops.

  “I guess that was meant for us?”

  “Perhaps. I haven’t got time to die today. I’ve got to get my girl back.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Victoria

  The van finally comes to a stop, and when the prospect opens the door, Mom and I are met with Grandpa leaning in to help us out. Dad and the twins are cramped along one side, and try to make room for us to pass. Mom and I are scooped up into his arms and I cling to him, thankful last night’s events weren’t my last day.

  I managed to get a little sleep on the drive here, the lull of the van helping me to drift off, knowing I was safe and going home, but I’m still so tired I could cry.

  When Grandpa moves on to hugging Mason and Myles, I head inside with Mom who wanders off, hugging Alannah and Bonnie, leaving me to stand in the middle of the bar, not knowing exactly what to do. Brothers filter in, and I can see from their faces they’re joyous at bringing us home in one piece, but as soon as I lock eyes with Luca across the bar, I’m done for.

  “I’m all in. I want you to be mine,” he signs.

  It’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear from him. For so long, I wanted to be the sole object of his affection, but tonight, I’m too tired to dance around in circles with him.

  “Can we do this tomorrow?” I sign back.

  He shakes his head. “I love you, Tor. Please, I need to be with you tonight.”

  Dumb-fucking-founded—that’s exactly what I am. And as I stand motionless, I can’t form a single coherent thought. He loves me, and he told me in front of everyone. Not that many people here can understand what he’s saying. But nonetheless, he said it, and he said it openly.

  Walking over to me, he cups the back of my head and mouths, “I love you,” before pulling me against him.

  A tear escapes, rolling down my cheek. Swiping it away, I see him say, “No more tears.”

  Resting my head against his chest, we stand there, him just holding me. I kinda wonder what everyone is making of this right now, but I don’t have it in me to look.

  Eventually, I pull back enough to see his face, and unwrap my arms from around him.

  “I’ll stay with you tonight, but we still need to talk.”

  He takes hold of my hand and leads me up to his room.

  Once inside, he locks the door behind us and lets go of my hand to head into the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he jerks his head for me to get inside, so I undress and step under the warm spray, where he joins me moments later.

  The hot water cascades over my shoulders, and they finally begin to relax. Luca’s skin brushes against mine as he leans around me to grab the soap.

  He doesn’t attempt to talk. Instead, he lathers up his hands and washes me, taking great care around the marks on my wrists. His brows crease together at the raw redness, but he concentrates on what he’s doing and doesn’t meet my eyes.

  I take over and wash my hair as he cleans himself, and then he’s stepping out and grabbing the biggest towel off the hanger for me. Wrapping one around his waist, he passes me a second, smaller towel for my hair. I have no dryer here, so it’s going to be all on end by the morning.

  Luca opens his drawer and pulls out one of his bigger T-shirts and tosses it my way. When I’m dry, I slip on his shirt and sit on the bed, leaving my hair wrapped in the towel as I watch him dry himself and slip into a pair of sweats, sans boxers. Sitting on the bed opposite of me, we just sit there and stare at each other.

  There’s much to be said, but after the last few hours, I don’t want to say anything to ruin the moment.

  Nevertheless, it has to be done.

  “Sara’s gone, and she isn’t coming back,” he signs, getting the ball rolling.

  “I know. She came to see me before she left town.”

  “She did?”

  I explain, “She wanted to make sure I loved you, because if I didn’t, she was going to stay and fight for you. I told her I did love you, and that given the opportunity, I’d be with you. She didn’t say anything else and left.” Taking a deep breath, I ask, “Do you have any feelings for her now?”

  I’m not stupid. You can’t just be rid of feelings for someone. I don’t even know why I asked.

  “No. I was stuck in the past. I couldn’t let go of what I thought I wanted, and it wasn’t until she came back that I could see so fucking clearly, what I thought I wanted, and what I actually needed, were two completely different things.”

  I must not look convinced.

  “Tor,” he almost pleads. “When I was with her, I didn’t feel anything. But when I’m with you, I feel everything. Not only do you see me, you still for some reason like what you see, and want to be in the darkness with me.”

  My chest tightens, and the urge to climb onto his lap intensifies. He’s saying all the things I want and need so desperately to hear, but the doubt is still lurking in every corner of my heart.

  “After everything we’ve been through, after everything you’ve said and done to me… It’s just so much hurt you’ve caused…” Trailing off, I stare down at my hands—my communicators.

  His warm finger tips my chin up until we’re eye to eye, and for the first time ever, his green eyes hold no anger, no violence, no vacant stares because he’s not listening to a word you say. There’s something I’ve never seen from him before. It’s a pleading for me to believe him. He needs me to say I believe very word.

  “Saying sorry won’t make up for how I treated you—”

  Shoving his hands down, I sign sharply, “It’d be a good start.”

  His devilish smirk shows itself. “I am sorry. But what I’m trying to say is, I will spend every day showing you how sorry I am. Give me the chance to prove to you that I love you, and I will never hurt you again.”

  It’s the second time he’s declared he loves me, and it blows me away just as much as it did down in the bar.

  “I promise you, going forward, it’ll be different. I’m not hiding how I feel about you any longer, and what I feel for you is so much more than I’ve ever felt before.”

  “I believe you mean it because you don’t say things you don’t mean, but how long will you feel this? Your hot and cold moods are notorious for messing with me. I can’t trust you’re all in as much as I would be.”

  It’s hard to admit it to him, but it’s true.

  Shuffling over to me, he cups my cheeks. I hold his intense gaze, and watch the internal war storming away in his eyes.

  “You need proof?” he mouths. At my nod, he blurts out, “Marry me.”

  For a minute, I swear I think he asked me to marry him.

  “Say that again? I didn’t catch what you said.”

  “Yes, you did,” he mouths. “Marry me, Tor. Let me prove how much I love and want you in my life.”

  Gasping, I go to move off the bed, needing to pace, but he grabs my wrist and keeps me close to him.

  Clearing my throat, I inhale slowly, and for the first time in a long time, I use my voice.

  “Are you asking or telling me?”

  His eyes widen, and I cringe, worrying if I spoke too loudly, or if I even made sense. It’s not like I don’t know how words sound, but I’ve refused to speak since I lost my hearing, and it’s almost foreign to me now.

  But I need to be clear.
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  Smiling, he shuffles even closer to me. “Asking, of course,” he signs.

  Speaking, I say, “Marriage is for a long time, Luca. It’s forever.”

  “Yet it still won’t be enough for me.”

  My heart’s melting with every word pouring from his mouth.

  “Let’s get married.”

  He’s serious. His stare never wavers, and I swallow hard.

  “Okay.”

  “Yeah?”

  Beaming, I squeal, “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  His lips are on mine before I can blink. Leaning up on my knees, I thread my fingers through his hair to keep him against me. I get to have this man for the rest of my life. When I first propositioned him about our joint boredom in lockdown, I never thought it’d lead to this.

  “First, we need to tell our families,” I say, pulling away from him.

  “No. First, I need to hear you say you love me.”

  “I love you, Luca Jackson. I love you so, so much.”

  I wish I could hear him say the words, but I’ll settle for reading his lips.

  “And you should also know that now you’re mine, I’ll protect and kill anyone who comes near you with violent intent in mind.”

  I raise my brow seductively. “Such a caveman.”

  “You should also know I killed the men responsible for you losing your hearing in Mercy.”

  It takes a minute for that admission to sink in. He killed them?

  “But you hated me then. Why would you have done that?”

  He shrugs like it’s nothing, but I’m not letting him off that easy. “Tell me.”

  “I was compelled.”

  “Compelled? Why?”

  “Because you were mine then, and just because I was an asshole to you, didn’t mean anyone else could be. Besides, they caused you permanent damage. I wasn’t going to let them get away with it.”

  Shuffling closer to him, heat pools in my lower belly. “How did you kill them? I want every detail.”