His Last Chance : Sons of Lost Souls MC Book Seven Page 10

  “You don’t invite a fucking fed into this house.”

  I don’t care to keep my voice even or low. I shouldn’t have to make it clear. This is shit she already knows.

  “He said he’s already tried talking to you. What does he want with us? Why would the FBI come here?”

  Oh, so now she wants to talk to me.

  I rub my hands down my face. I’ve come to learn I need her to interact with me, so I tell her, “He wanted to talk about India. I shut him down, and that’s all I know.”

  She flinches at our daughter’s name, and crosses her arms over herself like a form of protection. She’s shrinking again right before my eyes, and there’s fuck all I can do to help her. Not that she would let me try.

  “If it’s about our daughter, why wouldn’t you hear him out?”

  “Why? He’s a fucking fed, Kris. We don’t talk to them about anything.”

  “He might’ve been able to help,” she snarls.

  “Help with what exactly? Justice? It’s not like they can put anyone away for it. Every single motherfucker has been put in the ground already.”

  She backtracks into the kitchen, and I’m quick to follow her. As she’s collecting her purse, I entrap her between my arms. Every time I try talking to her, she walks out, but not this time.

  “Every asshole who was there that night is dead, all beaten and shot, buried in the middle of nowhere. Ellis is dead and burning in Hell. So tell me, how will the FBI bring us justice?”

  My voice drops to below freezing, and I physically bite my tongue just to make sure I can still feel something. My blood’s simmering with fire, my vision tunnelling.

  “You talk to that fed and the club finds out, you think I can help you?”

  She gasps sharply and shoves me away from her. Storming back into the hall, I’m hot on her heels and grab her arm, spinning her around to face me.

  Her mouth is firmly closed, and I can see her walls building back up. She goes to pull away from me, but I slam my hand against the wall, blocking her way.

  “If you see that fed again, you keep your mouth shut,” I warn her.

  “You’re not a Lost Soul anymore. We owe the club nothing. They can’t do shit that’ll hurt me any more than they already have,” she spits out.

  I lean my head closer to hers, a darkness beginning to overwhelm me.

  “It doesn’t matter if I’m wearing the patch or not. Don’t forget our son is still the club.”

  She looks at me coldly, her mouth raising in the corner.

  “My son, not yours. Don’t you forget that.”

  The shock of her words has me stumbling back, giving her the chance to shove my arm out of the way before she storms out. This time, I let her go.

  In all the years we’ve been together, she’s never thrown Zachery’s DNA in my face. He’s my son, no doubt about that. The only thing missing is the blood. There’s not one part of me that isn’t his father.

  Before I can blink, I’m in the garage, the keys still in the ignition from my ride the other day. Straddling the seat, a sense of familiarity washes over me as the engine roars to life. This house isn’t a home anymore, and I can’t stand to be here alone.

  The first whiskey went down too easy. The second lasted a few seconds longer than the first before I threw it down my neck. But I sit at the corner table, nursing my third whiskey, knowing it won’t help matters.

  My son, not yours.

  Her words are on repeat, getting louder and sharper. I swill the amber liquid in the glass, wishing it could drown everything out and make shit better, when the chair opposite of me is pulled back and Cas joins me, holding his own glass of whiskey.

  “I was surprised to hear you were drinking here, alone,” are the first words out of his mouth.

  I’m not surprised he has brothers watching my movements and reporting them back to him. “Where else am I supposed to drink these days?”

  “You already know the answer to that, brother.”

  Brother. That one word scorches me. I walked away from the club, from my brothers, not only because of Kristen, but because I couldn’t look at any of them without seeing my girl. I haven’t needed Zach or Leo to tell me I’ve missed the place; I feel it every single fucking day.

  “How are you holding up?” Cas asks next, and I sigh.

  It’s the most tiresome question to answer. I didn’t appreciate being asked in the beginning, and I sure as shit don’t now. Yet, the automatic response is to lie each and every time.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Fuck off. You’re not fine, and you don’t have to lie to me. Regardless of patches, we’ve known each other far too long to be able to hide shit from each other. Talk to me,” he pushes, and I lean back in my chair, keeping hold of my drink.

  “My daughter is still dead. My old lady looks at me like I’m nothing to her, and a fed keeps showing up at my house. So yeah, I’m just peachy.”

  Resting his arms on the tabletop, he leans in closer, keeping his voice low. “He’s been back?”

  I nod. “This morning. Kristen answered the door.” I keep what followed after to myself, and tell him, “I got rid of him before he could say anything.”

  “Fuck.”

  I finish my drink, thinking the exact same. Fuck. Fuck everything. Fuck everyone. I lift my empty glass in the air and call over to the barman for another.

  “Come home, brother,” he pleads.

  I don’t have the energy to fight him, and it sinks in I don’t have anywhere I can call home. Not anymore.

  I’ve been a Lost Soul for many years, but I’ve never felt this lost myself. I’m terrified of losing Kristen altogether, and going back to the club would mean the end for us. However, not having the club means I lose myself, and probably lose her too, anyway. I can’t fucking win, so yeah—fuck.

  “There’s never been a time when we haven’t been able to lean on each other. Let us help you, Slade.”

  The bartender sets my refill onto the table and walks off before I say, “I used to think there wasn’t anything we couldn’t get through. Hell, we’ve seen things that should’ve ended us a long time ago. That night, we all waited, and for what? I lost her. Rayna lost her. Kristen’s lost everything. Fuck, even my boy has struggled to hold down his own relationship because of it. It’s never going to end. The ripples will play out for the rest of our lives.”

  “I’m not saying there’ll be a day you’ll be happy again, but I am saying we want to be there for you. We miss you, and no one knows how to help—”

  His phone ringing cuts him off. Pulling it from his cut, he answers. His smooth forehead soon scrunches up into deep lines, and his brows pinch together as his eyes dart from the table to mine. Without saying a word, he listens for a few moments and hangs up.

  “Trouble?” I ask out of instinct, then silently curse myself.

  “Don’t bother finishing your drink. We need to leave.”

  He slides his phone back into cut and stands.

  “What’s going on?”

  “The graves in our section of the cemetery have been vandalised.”

  I swallow thickly as I rise to my feet, pushing the chair out as I stand.

  “India’s?”

  “I’m not sure. Sparky didn’t say which ones. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  Cas throws a twenty down on the table, and together, we head outside, but I stop short when I don’t see his bike.

  “You drove here?” I ask, spotting Alannah’s ride parked up next to my bike.

  “I didn’t know what state you’d be in. Jump in, brother.”

  “You need to stop calling me that.”

  He strides back toward me, stopping only inches away.

  “Why? It’s what you are. Every single fucking day since you took your cut off, I’ve wanted to drag you back to where you belong. Out of respect for you and your family, we’ve given you time and space, but don’t ever fucking think any of us haven’t been thinking of you and missing
you. You’re our brother, and nothing will ever change that.”

  Another hit to my gut. In the part of my mind that’s rarely able to think straight, I think it’d be the same if the roles were reversed. But still, I remind him, “It shouldn’t be. I abandoned the patch. We both know what should’ve happened.”

  I should’ve had my club insignia tattoos covered over at the very least. Since I’ve barely left the house, though, that hasn’t happened.

  “Maybe. But you didn’t abandon shit, you were grieving. You’re a Lost Soul, and you will be back. That’s why your patch is waiting for you. All you need to do is come and pick it up.”

  “Or maybe you’re going soft in your old age?”

  He barks out a laugh and slaps his hand down on my shoulder. “You can’t change who you are, Slade. Deep down, you know it as much as I do. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  As he drives out to the cemetery, the sense of an impending hunt to attack feeling returns, causing the blood to rush to my flexing hands, and a warmth lacing its way through my cold bones.

  The drive doesn’t take long, and as soon as Cas stops the car, I rush toward the brothers gathered around, pushing my way through to get to India’s grave. That’s when I find Leo kneeling there, clutching the grass as he struggles to breathe through his anger.

  The headstone we’d had erected two months ago is smashed, with lumps of broken granite on her grave and around it. I stumble forward and hover by Leo’s side, looking down at the disrespect for my daughter. All the air in my chest suddenly feels like it’s trapped in my lungs.

  Who would do this? Right at this moment, I don’t care about the other trashed headstones. My daughter died in a fight that didn’t concern her, and now her memory is being targeted. She can’t rest in peace, even after death.

  My fingernails leave half-moon dents in my palms as I fist my hands tightly. I don’t feel the sting of open wounds—I feel nothing physical. What I am feeling is the violence coursing through me with the need to make someone pay. I guess Cas was right, and some things don’t leave.

  “This is personal. No other headstones have been damaged apart from ours,” I hear Sparky inform Cas as I keep my back to everyone but Leo.

  I don’t think he even knows I’m here. His strangled breaths hit my ears, and I drown them out with my own. Her headstone was the last act of love we could give her. Nothing should surprise me anymore, yet I’m fucking shocked. I have no idea how I’m going to tell Kris about this. It’s going to push her over the edge, and I feel sick at the thought of where she’ll land.

  “First the bar, now this? Who the fuck’s coming for us now?” JJ asks from somewhere behind me.

  I fall to my knees and collect the lumps of granite, trying to piece them back together, but as soon as I stack them high enough, they tumble to the ground.

  “I’ve already tried,” Leo tells me, his voice hoarse.

  A car door slams, and from the heels clacking against the path, my shoulders tense. I don’t want Kristen to see this. I should’ve known she’d also find out. I guess I’d hoped I could keep this from her, at least for a while longer.

  Cas tries to stop her, but she screams and rushes toward me. Turning to catch her in time, I use all my strength to stop her from getting free of my hold. Her body slumps in my arms at the sight before us, and her cries soon turn to anger as she thumps her fists against my chest.

  I pull away, but keep hold of her.

  “Once again, the fucking club has ruined everything!”

  “It’s not just India’s grave.” I don’t know why I point this out. Nevertheless, it falls on deaf ears.

  “You think I give a shit what happens to any of the others? She can’t even rest in fucking peace!”

  She has the attention of every brother here, but they at least try to act like they can’t hear her.

  “Go home. I’m going to sort this out,” I promise her.

  “How?” she asks sarcastically, not believing in me anymore. It hurts to no end, but it also angers me.

  “Go home!” I roar, causing her to jump back in shock.

  Quickly righting herself, she asks, “Where are you going to be?”

  “At the club till I find out who did this.”

  Her face falls, and for the first time in a long while, it looks like she gives a shit about me. “No.”

  I can’t look at her. Dragging my eyes away from her, I head back to Cas’s car with something to finally focus on. Kristen can’t expect me to not do something about this.

  “If you go back there, don’t bother coming home,” she fumes after me.

  I don’t bother turning around, and continue walking as I call back over my shoulder, “It’s not a home anymore. You’ve made sure of that.”

  Throwing open the door, Cas is quick to jump in behind the wheel. Staring out the side window, I don’t look back at Kris, but I hear her cries through the open window until we hit the gates.

  “Maybe you should’ve stayed and consoled her,” Cas offers quietly.

  “Trust me, she doesn’t want me anywhere near her.”

  And nothing else is said. There isn’t anything else to say, and that’s the story of my life now. Just nothing.

  Kristen

  I haven’t been able to bring myself to make the trip out here to visit her grave. I took Zachery’s word that her headstone was respectable and perfect for her when it was erected.

  Cas drives Slade out of the cemetery, and I can’t move. A heavy hand lands on my shoulder, and it’s just what I need to pull myself together. I quickly jerk away, not wanting anyone here touching me. Sparky stands before me, frowning, unsure of what to say, but I don’t bother giving him the time to throw unmeaningful platitudes at me. I don’t want to hear them, because they mean absolutely nothing to me coming from any of them. Brushing by him, I ignore the other brothers and zero in on my darling daughter’s broken headstone.

  It looks like someone’s taken a sledgehammer to it. Lumps of broken granite sit in a pile, and then I focus on Leo. My left foot moves first, then my right, left, right. I’m moving faster with every step until my shadow looms over him. He looks up at me, tears staining his cheeks, and my breath hisses through my teeth.

  “Why is it every time my daughter’s hurt in the most absolute way possible, you’re there?” I spit, unable to watch him mourn over my daughter.

  “Don’t do this, Kris, not today,” he chokes out.

  The pain of losing her fades to the anger and resentment I hold for Leo, and I crouch down, lowering myself to his level.

  “Why? It’s your fault she’s here,” I point out. Every chance I get, I’ll remind him of his actions. “I have to live with the fact that I’ll never see her again, but you? You have to live the rest of your life knowing you put her here. You can’t even protect her grave.”

  The venomous words are pouring out of me, and I can’t bring myself to put a lid on it. “How you ever thought you’d be able to protect her is beyond me. You lied to her when you said you loved her, because if you did, you would’ve let her go.”

  His eyes snap to me. They’re almost as dead as mine, but he doesn’t intimidate me.

  “Walk away, Kristen.”

  Falling onto my knees, I lean closer to him. “You’re a fucking murderer. What makes you worse than Ellis is you have to hold my granddaughter everyday with hands coated in her mother’s blood. You’re not fit to protect anyone, let alone Rayna.”

  His top lip curls and his nostrils flare.

  “What are you going to do, Leo? Find the person responsible for this and do what? Kill them? When are you going to realise the person you’re looking for is you?”

  “Enough, Kristen. Go home, and let us handle this.”

  I ignore Sparky bellowing behind me. “You never had my blessing to be with my daughter because I knew you’d be the ruin of her. You couldn’t stop, though, could you? You wanted her, and you made sure you got her. Selfish doesn’t even begin to describe yo
u.”

  Arms curl around my waist, and I’m suddenly flying through the air. My feet hit the ground and I twirl, finding Sparky standing there, solid as a brick wall in front of me.

  “He’s had enough. I’m not going to tell you to go home again.”

  He’s had enough?

  Shoving my hands against Sparky’s chest, he doesn’t budge, but moves closer to me. “There’s nothing you can do here. Let us help you.”

  “What could you possibly help me with when you’ve taken everything from me?”

  He falters for a moment, and then his features stone over. “Get in your car before I put you in it.”

  “Touch me and you’ll regret it. I’m not leaving.”

  “Fine.”

  He puts two fingers to his mouth and pierces the air with a shrill whistle. Brothers look to him and he jerks his chin, saying, “Let’s go.”

  They begin moving, heading for their bikes. “Out of respect for Slade—”

  “Always about Slade,” I mutter, pushing by him as Leo rises to his feet. Using the sleeves of his hoodie, he wipes his eyes and scrubs his face until his hypocritical tears are no more.

  He takes ten steps toward me and stops. “You’re right, I am to blame. But don’t you dare stand there and make out like I forced her to be with me. You hate that she loved me, but you hate it more that you couldn’t control her.”

  Bristling with rage, I don’t get the chance to vent physically. Sparky, once again, wraps his arm around my waist and holds me to him so I’m unable to chase down Leo as he walks away.

  Slumping in Sparky’s hold, he slowly lets me go, and I’m the one standing alone, as he’s the last one to climb on his bike. One by one, they start their engines and ride out, the rumble of their bikes a reminder of where my husband is, and why my daughter’s not alive.

  Once the air is still and quiet, I turn around and choke down the sobs threatening to erupt at the sight of her grave.

  I can’t do this much longer.

  Zachery

  During the times I’d let myself imagine what life would be like once the baby was born, it was always noisy and loud. Yet, the house is silent. Nina got him to sleep a couple of hours ago after his feeding and last diaper change, and decided she’d lay down and rest while she had the chance. I try to help her out, but she keeps pushing me away. All I get to do is hold him while she uses the bathroom, or to have a quick shower. I’d hoped our late-night talk would help things between us, but it’s like it never happened. They’re upstairs, while I sit down here, hating the quietness because I think too much. She said we’d take it a day at a time, and I’m still here, sleeping on the couch, and not allowed to touch her.