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

by R. Hunter, Ellie

  “Walk to that guy. Go no farther until he comes to me. If you take one step before he does, my man will shoot you dead. You hear me?”

  I nod, willing to agree to anything if it means getting away from him.

  “Go on, then.”

  One step… another step… and then I’m running. Not wanting to be shot, I crash into the guy waiting in the middle. He’s warm and solid, and holds me by the arms as he stares down at me.

  “He said he’ll shoot me if I run before you walk toward him.”

  “The only person he wants to shoot is me. I’ll walk to him, and you’re going to run as fast as you can to that guy.” He points over to the man he was just talking to.

  “Go now—run. And whatever you hear, don’t look back.”

  Nudging me forward, I do as he says and brace myself for the shot as I take off. It feels like one of those nightmares where you’re running, but can’t stop stumbling. But I run, thinking that each time my foot hits the ground, I’m one step closer to safety.

  Careening into the guy waiting for me, he helps me over to another van and shoves me inside.

  Turning, he yells out, “Now!” Gunfire from all around me rings out. I can’t see what’s going on, but strangely, I’m not scared of it.

  “Don’t move!” he orders me, and he too is gone.

  “You can relax. You’re safe now.”

  Darting my gaze to the driver’s seat, I see a young man, definitely younger than me, craning his neck to look me over. It hits me that I’m differentiating these guys by age, because I have no idea what their names are. Tears stream unbidden down my cheeks, but I don’t cry. Instead, I laugh so hard, I can’t tell if it’s laughing or hysterical crying. I can’t bring myself to look at my hands again, but maybe if I don’t, it’ll be like the last twenty-four hours didn’t happen.

  My chest hurts, and my throat feels like it’s closing.

  The guy who caught me jumps into the van, slides the door closed, and barks to the guy up front to drive. Then, his attention is solely on me, and I swallow hard.

  “You’re safe now. My name is Cas. You’re Holly, right?”

  All I can do is nod.

  “Listen, our plan just went to shit, so it looks like I just traded my brother for you. I need to know everything you’ve seen and heard since he took you.”

  The dizziness returns, the urge to vomit growing stronger. “I need to go to the hospital.”

  Frowning, his jaw tightens and I hold my hands up for explanation. The frown is soon lost and with the gentlest touch I’ve ever felt, he takes hold of my wrists and inspects the damage.

  “Fuck! He torched your hands?” The way he looks at them confirms what I already know: it’s bad. It’s very fucking bad.

  “He knocked me out because I wouldn’t stop screaming, and when I came around, they were like this. He said if I wanted to know why, I should ask Tal, or Ethan, as that’s apparently his real name,” I babble on.

  His head jerks up. “Say that name again.”

  “Ethan.”

  I’ve angered him, that much is clear, though he keeps his voice level when he says, “I’ll have a doctor take a look at your hands and help you. I’m sorry, but I can’t take you to a hospital.”

  That flicker of hope dies. Cas may not be Bert, but he’s the president of a motorcycle club, and even I know he won’t want me in a hospital where I’ll be questioned. I’m about to find out how the club works, and I’ve never wanted to be home listening to my father tell me how to live my life more.

  Chapter Eleven

  Tal

  The plan failed, but I couldn’t give a shit. My only concern is getting to Holly. She’s been with that asshole for twenty-four hours, and anything could’ve happened to her in that time. During the ride back to the club, I followed behind Sparky when I should’ve stayed in formation way down the line, but nothing is keeping me far from her. I’ve tried real fucking hard to stop myself from imagining what kind of brutality he’s been inflicting on her, and I completely failed.

  When Luca stops close to the bar door, I screech to a stop, nearly crashing into the back of the van. My bike falls onto its side in my haste to get to her, with everything moving in slow motion. Cas jumps out of the van first to help her out by her arms, not her hands. When I see why, time stops.

  They’re so familiar, because I’ve lived with seeing hands like that my whole life.

  Her voice cracks when she confronts me with, “He said you’d know why he did this to me.”

  “Yeah, I’d like to know why too,” Cas growls, leading her into the bar while ordering for the doc to be called in.

  Jogging up behind them, I wrap my arm around Holly’s waist, feeling relieved when she doesn’t flinch away. Cas takes us into the back room and Sparky and Slade are the only brothers who join us.

  Kicking out a chair, I sit Holly down before falling to my knees in front of her. Inspecting her burns, I have to swallow the bile threatening to erupt from my throat. She’ll have to live with these scars for the rest of her life.

  “Ethan?”

  Distractedly, I stand and face Cas. The look of disbelief on his face has me realising my mistake. He called me by my birth name—a name he shouldn’t know.

  “Motherfucker!”

  Shooting forward, his fist connects with my face, forcing me stumbling back into Holly. The old prick packs a punch, that’s for sure, and he’s not finished. Drawing his fist back, he delivers another blow to my jaw, sending my head flying the side. Before I can test to see if it’s broken, he lands another blow, and then another.

  The assault doesn’t stop until Sparky’s finally able to pull him off of me. Moving away from Holly, I lean on the table as I flex my jaw.

  “Are you going to explain what the fuck’s going on here?” Sparky bellowed.

  “Our brother isn’t who the fuck he says he is,” Slade murmurs from the corner, but all I can hear clearly is Cas’s breathless panting.

  I turn my head to the side to see Sparky’s shocked expression, and look down. I’m no longer walking the line of them finding out and killing me. Now, I’m so far from the line, I can’t even see it anymore.

  I’m so close to death now, I can taste it, feeling it all around me, clinging to me.

  “He’s our rat,” Sparky mutters incredulously.

  Flexing his fist, Cas tells Sparky, “Before we deal with him, we need to deal with her. Get Bonnie over here. She’ll be the best one to sit with Holly.”

  The VP nods, pulls out his phone, and turns his back to us, but I don’t miss the hateful glare he throws me first.

  Speaking quietly, he ends the call, takes a seat in the nearest chair, and tosses his phone onto the table. “She’ll be here in a minute.” His glare returns to me. “So who the fuck are you?”

  “Oh, you’re going to love this,” Slade crows. “His name is Ethan McGregor. He was born in England, and his mother was the daughter of an MC president back in the day before she shot him dead—the same MC Bert was VP for. His mother spent ten years in prison, though her record was expunged. But the best part is—”

  He’s interrupted by a knock at the door. Hauling himself up, he lets Bonnie in, who gasps when she takes in Holly’s hands.

  “Thanks for coming over, Bon,” Cas says.

  “Sure. What do you need?”

  The doc enters behind her and rushes over to Holly.

  “We need you to sit with her.” Sharing a look, Bonnie nods, understanding his meaning to keep her here, no matter what.

  The doc whistles, and Holly flinches under his bold handling of her. “He’s good, Hols. He’ll help you. You can trust him.”

  Me speaking triggers a reaction from everyone in the room. Cas yanks me by my hoodie and drags me to the door.

  Holly cries out, “What are you going to do to him?”

  Cas’s grip loosens as he leans in close to my ear, whispering, “Tell her you’re going to be fine.”

  I’m not accepting
my fate, but I can’t bring her any more pain. “Don’t worry, Hols. I’ll just be out in the bar. Let the doc help you.”

  Fresh tears stream down her face, but she nods. That’s all I get to see before I’m shoved all the way to the middle of the bar, where I’m surrounded by guys who are ready to beat me to a pulp the second they hear from Cas who I really am.

  “What are we going to do about Dex?” Pope questions from the table closest to me.

  “We’ll get to that, but first,”—Cas sweeps his arms before me, hammering the final nail in my soon-to-be coffin when he raises his voice and announces—“I give you our rat!”

  For a moment, there’s nothing but silence; the calm before the storm, so to speak. I close my eyes. All I wanted was to do some good in a world where there’s only been bad. Opening my eyes, I straighten my shoulders and hold my head high.

  “No fucking way,” Myles growls, flexing his fists.

  The quiet simmer of violence spreads through the brothers, the weight of their hatred for me heavier than anything I’ve felt before.

  “You should all know, I had Slade and Zach dig into everyone. No one is going to have a problem with it, because when I say everyone, I mean every single one of us, and it paid off. They found the truth about this rat fuck. His real name is Ethan McGregor, and he’s from England. His mother grew up in an MC, and his daddy is a retired undercover fed who spent twenty years taking down MC’s from the inside. The cop who took down Bert and locked him up was his dad.”

  Listening to the brothers mutter their disgust, I dig my teeth into my bottom lip. I have no recourse but to stand here and take what they throw at me.

  Leo storms over and I brace myself to fight—or, at the very least, defend myself, when he grabs my cut and yanks it down my arms. Having my cut ripped off doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Watching him throw it to the floor and stomp on my patches doesn’t either. What does bother me is knowing my dad is close by. I told him to leave, that I would be okay. But I’m not going to be okay. They’ll draw my death out because they have to, to make up for botching shit when it came to me.

  “This never should’ve been put on your back.”

  “Damn fucking right!” JJ hollers.

  Pope gives me the most menacing look I’ve ever seen on his face. “What are we waiting for? The cunt needs to be taken out!”

  It would be too easy to get rid of him now but he doesn’t deserve a swift death because we’re distracted wanting to save Dex.

  “Take him down downstairs. We have an actual brother who needs our attention right now.”

  Leo, being the closest, forces me forward when he shoves me in the back, and continues to do so till we get to the basement.

  Barging past me, he opens the door and sends me flying down the concrete steps. Landing at the bottom, something cracks in my shoulder, but I don’t feel any pain through the adrenaline. Their boots come pounding down the steps, and then he and JJ are hauling me up, dragging me to a chair facing Kyle’s.

  I hiss through the pain now shooting into my neck, down my arm and through my back as they dump me in the chair.

  Grabbing a rope nearby, Leo works it around my waist, while JJ binds my feet to the chair legs.

  “You can sit here and anticipate all the ways we’re going to kill you. Better yet, let me help you out: it’s going to be slow, and you’re gonna hurt.”

  I keep my mouth shut and look away as they leave, banging the door closed, and finally look at Kyle.

  “What the hell have you done?” Kyle croaks out, his voice dry and cracked.

  “Nothing you need to worry about.”

  “I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about my aunt.”

  “Don’t be. The club’s going to help her.”

  He visibly relaxes, and his tension rolls onto me. As if I need anymore. I should’ve left when my dad showed up. I don’t know how I can do it, but I need to get in contact with him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Holly

  On the table is a small bottle containing pain meds, and beside me sits Bonnie. The doc bandaged my hands up to my wrists, told me he’ll check on them again in a couple of days, and not to take them off until he tells me to.

  He was kind, but quiet, and I watched everything he did with numb fascination, like it was happening to someone else.

  Bonnie’s chair scrapes against the floor when she gets up to wipe my tears away when I look at her.

  “I don’t know anything about you, but I have a pretty good idea what you’re feeling right now.”

  “Yeah?”

  “We all have scars. Some old, some new, but all permanent, nonetheless. All I can do is promise you that it isn’t the end, that it’s possible to overcome this.”

  “I don’t even understand what I’ll be overcoming,” I admit.

  “Then I’ll get you the answers you need.” She picks up the bottle of pain meds and tips two of them into her hand. “Take these, and I’ll take you over to the main house so you can get some rest.”

  “I should go home.”

  “You need rest, and Cas is going to want to talk to you before you leave.”

  Putting the pills into my mouth, I use my tongue to swill them to the back of my throat and swallow.

  Dizziness overwhelms me when she helps me up, and lightheaded overwhelms me. I focus on getting the hell out of here that I push through the dizziness and come to a stop when I don’t see Tal, or Ethan, anywhere in the bar. Guys are yelling, and they’re angry and it’s weird when they all go quiet when they notice me with Bonnie.

  “Holly is coming over to the main house so she can sleep,” Bonnie tells Cas.

  Nodding at her, he then looks to me. “I’ll speak with you soon.”

  Bonnie urges me on, but I can’t move. “I need to see Tal—I mean, Ethan.”

  “Sorry, it’s not going to happen.”

  “But—”

  “Come on, Holly. You need to rest.”

  The fresh air hits me when I step outside, and I bask in the warmth of the sun as the events of the last day hit me. I was kidnapped, punched, and knocked out twice, and had my hands mutilated, all for reasons I don’t understand because no one will talk to me.

  Blinking, I clear the tears from my eyes as Bonnie pulls back sheets on a bed I’m assuming she’s getting ready for me. Guiding me to the bed, she helps me get settled and tucks me in. My mother used to tuck me in like this when I was sick, and it always made me feel safe.

  “When you wake up, your hands will still hurt, you’ll still have a lot of questions, but the world will look a little less gloomy. Every day you wake up, things will look a bit clearer, I promise you that.”

  “Thank you for being nice, even if you are pretending. I’m assuming Cas wants you watching me so I won’t try to leave or go to the police.”

  “Hey, now, I’m not pretending to be nice—I am nice. Actually, I’m a really nice person, and if I weren’t, you’d know about it. Cas asked me to sit with you because he knew I’d understand what you’re going through better than anyone else here, and when you feel more settled, I’ll tell you my story.”

  Her touch is featherlight when she sweeps my hair away from my face and runs her fingers across my cheek. My eyelids droop, and that’s the last thing I remember before drifting off.

  * * *

  I’ve spent my college life being woken by an alarm, and I’ve spent my summer being woken by hangovers, or Tal asking why my alarm is going off so early. This time, I’m woken by the throbbing in my hands, and a bladder fit to burst. I open my eyes and see Bonnie is gone, but has left a glass of water and two pills on the nightstand.

  I need the pills, but I need to pee more.

  Climbing out of the bed, it hits me like a ton of bricks that getting up is going to be the easiest part of my day.

  I stare at the door handle and swallow my building frustration. I can’t just push it down and open it, but I’ll figure this out because I have no choice, and I
really, really need to pee. Using my elbow and forearm, it takes me far too long before it clicks open, leaving me ninety percent closer to peeing my pants.

  Thankfully, the bathroom door is already open, and I leave it ajar so I don’t get trapped inside after I’ve finished my business. I wiggle out of my shorts, glad they’re not button-ups, and plonk my ass down on the toilet. The relief is better than the meds in taking the pain away in my hands, and then the tears come, because I can’t even wipe myself when I’m done. Even if I could rip the toilet paper off, I can’t grip onto it to fucking wipe myself clean. Feeling disgusting, I wait for a few minutes to drip dry, then battle with pulling my shorts back up my thighs. When I succeed in the task, I blow out a long breath and make my way into the hall. Seeing all the doors closed as I walk down the hall, I creep quietly down the stairs, finding no one awake.

  The clock on the kitchen wall reads that it’s just after six; I slept for nearly fourteen hours. The place looks like a normal family lives here. You’d never guess it’s in the middle of a biker compound, surrounded by men who ride motorcycles and commit whatever crimes they do to put money in their pockets. And here I am, in the middle of their unconventional life with my hands wrapped in bandages, with no clue as to why. Well, I’m going to find out. With no one around, I head for the front door, but stop when I see it’s a knob, not a handle. There’s no way I’ll be able to open it.

  I refuse to let more tears fall—I just refuse. Instead, I get angry. I kick the door, wanting to bash my way out and find the damn answers I need and deserve. At least the pain is now coursing through my foot instead of my freaking hands.

  “Here, I can help you.”

  I’m moved to the side when an older blonde woman opens the door and smiles. She’s beautiful.

  “I’m Alannah. You must be Holly?”

  Frowning, I ask, “Does everyone know who I am around here?”