Their Fractured Souls
Sons Of Lost Soul MC Book Six
Ellie R Hunter
Their Fractured Souls
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#6 in the Sons of Lost Souls MC Series
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By
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Ellie R. Hunter
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Ellie R Hunter
Their Fractured Souls
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© 2019 Ellie R Hunter
Self-publishing
[email protected]
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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental.
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Cover Design by
Tracie Douglas at Dark Water Covers.
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Formatting by
Rachel Tonks at Affordable Formatting
Created with Vellum
Contents
Also, by Ellie R Hunter
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Epilogue
Also, by Ellie R Hunter
Incurable Hearts
Perfectly Obsessed
The Grace Porter Series
To Live or To Die
Four Fallen Souls Series
Smile, Alice
The Lost Souls MC Series: Biker Bait
Biker Faith
Biker Bound
Biker Born
Biker Saviour
Biker Taken
Biker Torn
Biker Ruined
Biker Salvation
Sons of Lost Souls MC: His Father’s Son
His Selfish Love
His Ride or Die
Her Crazy Life
His One Regret
His One Choice
You were an asshole, but you were still family.
R.I.P
“This isn’t a fucking toy, boys. You hearing me?” Pope admonishes as the twins argue over who gets to hold the gun.
“Sit, both of you,” he instructs, and they listen to their grandpa, both sitting on the fallen tree trunk.
“You want to shoot this? See who can hit the cans?” he asks.
“Yeah,” they answer him simultaneously.
“First you have to know your piece, you have to understand every inch of it and how it works. This is what stands between your survival and your deaths. Do you want to fucking die?”
Their faces pinch together and they both turn a ghostly white from the fear of Pope’s question. Neither of the boys understand death but they know they don’t want to die.
“Dad! They’re eight years old, they don’t need to know how to shoot a gun,” Kyla calls over from where she feeds Victoria her lunch on a picnic blanket.
“Ignore your momma, you do need to know this. You wanna be Lost Souls when you’re both grown men?”
“Yes, Grandpa.”
They want to be just like their grandfather, their hero.
“Then this…” he says, holding the gun up, “will be your best fucking friend. If it’s ever a choice between you or them, it will always be you who walks away.”
The twins’ eyes follow every move their grandfather makes and when he lays the gun on the table and drags an old stool over to sit in front of them, they’re eager to listen to what he has to say.
They always do, what he says, goes. When they’re grown, they want to wear the patch just like him, and their father, and all their uncles.
“What are the three rules?” he asks them.
They both take a deep breath and unleash their answer together.
“Number three, always fight back to back. Number two, never hesitate. And number one, never leave my brother’s side.”
Pope nods satisfied with their answer. “Never forget the rules, boys. Never.”
Judging by their faces, they never planned on forgetting. Everything their grandpa told them, they’d live by and they’d make him proud.
Their grandfather was aptly named, he was the motherfucking pope to them and if they wanted to be half the motherfucker he was, they had a lot to live up to.
“Right, on your feet.”
The two of them spring off their asses and run after Pope as he walks across the lawn and sets up a row of six cans each for them.
“Go stand by the tree stump and wait for me.”
They do as they’re told and wait excitedly. If it were up to their mom, this wouldn’t be happening today, but their hero makes everything possible.
Pope struts over to the table and returns with two small handguns and kneels before them.
“There are people you trust and there are people you keep at arm’s length. But when it comes to brothers, they’re a part of your soul. We fight for our brothers, we fight for our family, and above all, we fight for our patch.”
Mason
The patch is more than I ever imagined it would be. The freedom to be who I want to be, to earn money without it feeling like work and the best part is I get to share it with my brother. Myles. Together we wear the patch and together we fuck the shit out it. We are Lost Souls just like our grandpa said we would be. It’s our rite of passage and we are the fucking legacy and up till Ellis darkened our club, it was our ticket to party, fuck, and live life to the max.
Now, living through the ripples of devastation Ellis caused it’s about pride. I wear my patch knowing everyone I come into contact with knows exactly who I am and what I’m about. Never again will I be caught out because I wasn’t taking shit seriously. Side by side with my brother, my twin, no one will ever get close enough to hurt us or anyone else in our lives again.
Everyone believes Myles and I are up for a fight every chance we get; the truth is we aren’t usually ones for violence but we seem to find it more than we don’t and not being ones to backdown from anything, our reputations grew. Our grandpa says it’s in our souls, ru
nning through us like the blood that keeps us alive. He taught us how to handle the violence and to never, ever, walk away and show weakness. However, we never went looking for fights, but now, now we do and fuck anyone who comes for us. We had to watch on our fucking knees while Ellis threatened to burn our sister alive and there was nothing we could do to help her. We were held down and forced to watch, praying that he didn’t spark his lighter. Thinking about it brings a sickness to my mouth and I know it’s the same for Myles. Victoria wouldn’t harm a fly, fuck, she’s the kind of girl who would feel bad if she saw a fly die. Myles and I don’t understand her half the time but she’s our kid sister and no one gets to say a word about her. Most people think she’s weird, the hippy girl who dances under the moon because it makes her feel free, spends way too much time in her greenhouse talking to her plants because it helps them grow and the one who doesn’t need validation from anyone to make her feel better about herself. People don’t tend to understand people who don’t care what people think of them.
I can still smell the whiskey he poured over her, strong and thick in the air and I’m so fucking grateful it turned out the way it did. I feel bad for India, she didn’t get the happy ending, but out of her and Victoria, I’d pick my sister all day long. I keep that shit on the down low and carry on with life, because I’m still alive and so are my family.
As we ride through the town of Mercy, population: not enough for my liking, people stop what they’re doing and stare. Cutting my eyes to my mirror, Myles is catching them too. I’ve heard about the Mercy chapter and how they live on a mountain and as it comes into view off in the distance it’s definitely something to see.
The Mercy Chapter clubhouse is located halfway up the mountain and various cabins line the wide dirt road. Our chapter brothers and their families venture outside at our arrival and most of them are shocked to see us. They’re not expecting us under Cas’s orders and a few I catch staring, look shady.
Upfront, Cas comes to a stop followed by Sparky and JJ and the rest of us park up where we can find space in front of the clubhouse.
A tall, broad shouldered guy steps out onto the wrap around porch and raises his chin, trying to hide how unhappy he is to see us. One by one our bikes fade to silence and the guy steps down and walks over to Cas.
“I told you I’d be back, and I’d bring brothers,” Cas tells him.
“And we welcome you, brother.”
He’s a fucking liar. It’s clear to see our arrival is stepping on his toes and he’s shit at trying to hide it.
The Willows Peak chapter start to move around, climbing off bikes, the women and prospects climbing out of cars and trucks. Everyone stretching their legs and backs after the long journey.
Cas calls over Luca to introduce him to everyone, Harper heads to over a woman on the porch with ten different colours in her hair and Grumps talks with mom and dad while Tori climbs out the car and perches herself on the trunk as she looks around. She’ll love this place, all this wilderness and nature, it’s right up her street. Only, right now her eyes are solely focused on Luca fucking Jackson.
“When are we going to do something about them?” Myles asks, keeping his voice low so only I can hear him.
Putting a cigarette to his mouth, he lights it and passes it over to me. I take a long hit, wishing it had something stronger in it.
“Soon.”
Luca thinks we’re too self-absorbed to notice he’s been banging our kid sister and making her cry.
She slips off the trunk, not receiving Luca’s attention, and skips off between the trees.
Myles looks my way and I nod. Together, we follow her through the trees and silently follow her as she spritely prances and twirls until she comes to an opening. Myles comes up on her left side and I jump down on her right side.
“I saw you watching Luca before, please don’t do anything to him that will cause him to bleed, cause him pain, or cause me to hate you.”
Rolling our eyes, she can ask for such things, but it doesn’t mean shit to us. It doesn’t surprise me she saw us watching without being obvious, Grumps taught her to be socially aware in any environment she finds herself in. We choose not to answer her and give her false promises. We wouldn’t lie to her, so it’s easier to say nothing.
“I mean it, I’ll never speak to you again if you lay even one finger on him,” she warns us.
“We can work with that,” Myles mutters, smirking, and voicing exactly what I was thinking.
She said we couldn’t lay a finger on him, with us, you need to be a hell of a lot more specific. Yet, when it comes to her I don’t want to play on her requests.
“We’ll make you a deal,” I say, and Myles stays quiet.
“Go ahead, I’m listening.”
“We’ll stay out of your business, but if we see one more tear fall from your eyes, all bets are off.”
“Done.”
The three of us backtrack to the clubhouse and most of the brothers have ventured inside. Everywhere you look there’s wood. Wood panelled walls, solid wooden flooring covered here and there with rugs. A wooden bar. So much fucking wood.
Tori joins our parents over by the fireplace and Myles is bored as fuck beside me.
“Mase?”
“Yeah?”
“You know how Cas is always on our ass not to shit where we live?”
“Yeah?” I ask, wondering where he’s going with this.
“We don’t live here, want to head into town and see what we can get up to?”
I smile. He smiles.
No one notices us leaving and by the time we’ve reached the bottom of the mountain, the possibilities of what this town can offer are endless.
Aspen
I shove the plug in the luxurious bathtub and blast the faucets, adding an over the top amount of expensive bath salts. I add a healthy amount of bubble bath to boot. It’s been a while since I’ve had the opportunity to soak in a clean tub and my body aches from my head all the way down to my toes. I kick out of my boots and strip out of my jeans; my underwear quickly follows and I step into the ankle high water because I’m overly keen to feel the warmth cling to me. I rip my sweater off over my head and chuck it over the tub onto the floor. Unlatching my bra, it quickly joins my sweater and I look down and see the dirt from my feet disappear under the bubbles. I should have showered first but right this minute as I sit and the water laps over my thighs, I don’t care. The cold is bitter at this time of the year and it’s settled into my bones. It’s not long before the water fills the tub and using my big toe I turn the hot and cold water off and fully emerge myself under the surface.
My scalp tingles from the hot water and I hold my breath for as long as I can. There’s something I find peaceful being under the water, it’s somewhere I can hide and for a minute or two before my lungs begin to burn, nothing bad can touch me here. It’s stupid but it’s where I find peace. Pressing my feet firmly against the end of the tub, I kick off and break through the surface. My chest hurts as I gulp in the air my lungs desperately crave.
My stomach rumbles in hunger and I wonder what’s in the refrigerator to eat. The measly few packets of chips and candy late last night didn’t fill my appetite and my mouth waters at the thought of a bacon sandwich. It was my mom’s favourite when she was hungry, it wouldn’t matter what time of day it was, she would fry up the bacon and tell me it was the food of the Gods. Closing my eyes, I soak in the bubbles and try to relax before my hunger takes complete control of me.
As I sweep my hand through the soft bubbles, a creak from the outside hall fills the silence in the house. No one is home.
My heart stops for a second and then thumps in my chest. Sitting up slowly, I listen hard for another sound and just when I think I must have misheard, it happens again. Thump, thump, thump. The sound of boots hitting the thick carpeted stairs fades out and I launch myself out of the tub. I dry off the fastest I ever have and dress in my dirty clothes.
I’m ready to run in less
than twenty seconds and I grab my backpack and creep out onto the top landing. The sweeping staircase gives me full view of the foyer and front door below. I can’t see anyone, and I don’t hear anyone. I run down the stairs and reach my hand out to open the front door as soon as my foot hits the marble floor and the next thing I know I’m flying through the air and landing on my side. The marble isn’t forgiving, and it takes the smallest second to register someone barrelled into me and knocked me over, someone who is now currently crushing their body on top of mine.
My first instinct is to close my eyes and scream but it’ll be no good, no one will hear me. The closest neighbour is across the street and a good half a mile separates the two properties.
I get flashes of a ski mask when I force myself to open my eyes and I use everything I have to push the masked guy off me.
Their Fractured Souls: Sons Of Lost Soul MC Book Six Page 1