Red (Hell’s Jury MC #5)

12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Red

I can’t think of anything but mom. My mind’s looping. I see flashes of her smiling, crying, lecturing me. The disbelief that someone would shoot her courses through me. She’s a gentle soul; broken, but resilient at the same time. Nothing in her life was easy until dad died. Then little by little she pulled herself together. Always my protector; always supporting me, staying by me when I fucked up.

Stella glances at me. “Who’s Sorcha?”

I clutch my stomach as I lean my forehead against the dash. “My five-year-old sister. She’s a gift. For my mom, for me.”

Stella shifts down, then fishtails around a corner. “We’re almost there.”

I release a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Once we’re parked, I stumble out of the car and race inside. Reaper is waiting in the lobby.

“Where is she?”

“In emergency surgery.” He glances over my shoulder. “She Stella?”

“Yeah,” I say as I hurry down the hall towards a group of my brothers. They’re standing close together murmuring to each other.

They look at me when I approach. “How bad?” I say to Joker.

“Don’t know yet. She caught more than one bullet.”

I grab at my ponytail. “She’ll be okay, right?”

She has to fuckin’ be okay. She’s my anchor. I’ve never told her that. Why the hell haven’t I told her that?

Joker looks past me, his expression shifting from concern to unfriendly. “What the hell is she doing here?”

I turn to see Stella standing a few yards from us, my keys clutched in her hands. “She drove me.”

Joker storms over and grabs the keys. “Thanks for driving Red. Now leave.”

“No,” I say as my heart pounds harder. After today, maybe since I met her, I feel like she belongs to me. “She stays.”

Stella moves her eyes from Joker to me, then to the rest of my brothers, who are looking at her with hostility.

“She should go,” Joker insists. “Now’s the time for family, not strangers.”

“Fuck off,” I snarl.

At the same time Stella moves closer to me and says, “I’m staying.” It’s soft and passive but underneath is resolve. She’s the strength I don’t have right now, and I wanna hug her for stepping up for me.

Trigger comes to my side. “Nothing we can do but sit and wait.”

I look at my brothers. Except one of them is missing. “Where’s Hangman?”

“Got hit too. He was with Leslie,” Eight says.

This floors me. “What the fuck was he doin’ with my mom?”

Joker exchanges an uneasy glance with Eight. “Don’t know, Red.”

“The doc says he’ll be okay,” Rocky says like it’s good news. “Took a couple of bullets in his shoulder and one grazed his side. Can’t be certain the shooter was aiming for Hangman or your mom.”

“You’re a fucking idiot!” I roar. “Why would anyone shoot my mom?”

Rocky gets red in the face, but Trigger puts a hand on his shoulder and murmurs to him.

Rocky nods, turns, and stalks away.

I drop into a chair and rub my forehead. I don’t have the emotional capacity to deal with what happened to my mom but add Hangman to the mix and I’m almost comatose.

I barely notice as Stella sits next to me and takes my hand. No platitudes from her. No ‘it’ll be okay’; no ‘I’m sure she’ll pull through’. No pretending this is anything but bad news.

I hang onto her like she’s gonna make it right. My heart slows at her nearness, my turmoil settles, my thoughts clear. “If any of you know why Hangman would be with my mom, tell me now, ‘cause if I find out later you knew, I’ll fuckin’ pound you into the ground.”

“If anyone would know it’d be me and I don’t have a fuckin’ clue,” Joker says.

I open my mouth to reply when a doctor comes out. He’s wearing scrubs and a cap, which he pulls off. “Who’s Leslie’s family?” he says.

I drop Stella’s hand and bolt to my feet. “I’m her son. Lachlan Faust.”

He nods. “Let’s talk privately.”

Normally, I would tell him that anything he has to say, he can say in front of everyone. But this is my mom. And fuckin’ Hangman was with her and I fuckin’ know she was shot because of him. Guilt is tearing at me, because she wouldn’t have been with him if I wasn’t in the fucking club. And right now, I want to kill every fucking brother in the hall.

“Yeah,” I say as I follow him down the hall. “How is she?”

The doctor blinks, looks down, looks back up. “She’s alive.”

“Thank fuck,” I say as relief floods me.

He shakes his head. “I did everything I could, Mr. Faust, but her insides were torn apart by the bullets. She’s not going to make it.”

My relief switches to desperation. “But you said…”

“Yes. She didn’t die on the table, but she’s in a coma, she’s lingering. The damage is too great. She’s got an hour, maybe two. Enough time for you to say goodbye.”

Tears sting my eyes, then spill over. I’m gonna lose the one person in my life that supported me unconditionally. The woman who loved me, nurtured me, saved me from totally fucking up my life. “Where is she?”

The doctor motions me into a hospital room. “If you need anything, I’ll be close by. There’s a call button. A nurse will notify me.”

I barely hear him as I walk toward mom. She’s laying on the bed wrapped in a blanket, her arms at her sides, her fingers curled. An IV drips fluid into her and a plastic oxygen tube in her nostrils is helpin’ her breathe. A monitor keeps track of her heartbeats.

Her eyelids are blue and bruised. Black sunken circles under the eyes are stark against her pale face. The bed dwarfs her body, already lifeless, just the little puffs of air from her lips proof that she’s not yet gone.

I stumble over and fall into a chair, then pull it as close as I can get to the bed. Her hand is limp when I take it, veins that weren’t there the last time I saw her, protrude starkly against the paper-thin skin.

“Don’t die,” I whisper, my voice cracking. I stop, try to regain my composure, but can’t. Tears roll down my cheeks, caught by my beard. “For god’s sake, mom. Don’t die. I need you. Sorcha needs you.” I squeeze her hand. “Please, find a way to live.”

I keep talking to her, mumbling the same words over and over again. I’m in denial, keep telling myself the doctor is wrong. She’ll pull through this, she’ll get better. She can’t leave me, can’t leave Sorcha. She’s not done with us yet. She needs to stay and finish the job.

Maybe time passes. I don’t know. I can’t think beyond my pain.

I don’t realize she’s gone until someone slips into the room and turns off the machines attached to her.

The woman says, “Take as long as you need.” Then she leaves me with my grief.

I lay mom’s hand gently on the bed as my heart shatters. I’ll never see her smile again. Never hear her laugh or the feel the warmth of her hug. I’ll never be able to tell her that I love her and thank her for her sacrifices.

I desperately wish that I could have her back for just one moment. See her eyes open, feel her stroke my cheek, hear her promise it’ll be all right. Then I could tell her how sorry I am for taking her for granted. For not being there when she needed me. For making her life so hard. For leaving her alone with my bastard father.

I take a deep breath as I wipe my eyes and blow my nose. “I promise,” I whisper. “I promise I’ll take care of Sorcha. Bring her up right. Make sure she’s loved. Make sure she’s safe.” My grief overwhelms me and my shoulders shake as I start crying again. “I promise,” I say hoarsely.

I don’t realize Joker’s in the room until he touches my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he says.

I look up at him, then to the door. “Where’s Stella?” I need her here with me. In this room. Understanding what my mother meant to me. Propping me up. Promising she’ll be there for me, helping me get through this.

“She left,” he says. “Reaper drove her home in your car.”

I’ve only known Stella for a few days, but it’s like I’ve known her a lifetime. She wouldn’t leave unless they forced her too. “You fucking bastard,” I say in a low voice so my mom can’t hear me. “You fucking lying bastard.”

“Don’t, Red. Now’s not the time or the place. You’ll thank me later.”

“Why didn’t you take her to lockdown?”

“Because she’s a stranger, Red. She’s nobody.”

I feel betrayed by him. By my club. By fuckin’ Hangman. “I’ll beat the shit out of you later,” I hiss. “Give me my keys.”

He passes them to me, his face neutral. He’s not Rocky. He’s not got a short fuse. He’s not going to react to my threat.

“You okay to drive?” he asks as he takes a couple of steps backwards.

“Just get the hell out.”

He hesitates at the door. “You gotta come to the clubhouse, Red. Your sister’s there. She needs to be told. She needs you to tell her. And Hangman. He wants to talk to you.”

“I’ll bet he fucking does.” But at the mention of Sorcha, the wind goes out of my sails. How my mother died, who she was with – it’ll hurt my custody case, maybe irreparably. I might lose Gabby. I can’t lose my sister too.

Joker nods at me, turns his back and leaves.

I stare at the empty shell that used to be my mother. She’s good and truly gone and I’ve gotta get my head wrapped around it. I need to be strong for Sorcha. I need to be strong for me.

I brace myself as I turn my back on my mother. I want to hurl Reaper against the wall for agreeing to take Stella home. I want to destroy my brothers. I want to rip Hangman limb to limb. I want to blame them all for mom’s death.

But the hall is empty when I step into it. They’ve made themselves scarce. Not seeing them helps settle my temper at least enough to talk to the woman seated behind the nurses station. “What needs to be done?” I ask, swallowing my anguish.

She looks at me with sympathetic eyes. “Nothing right now, Mr. Faust.” She hesitates, then adds, “Because this is a murder investigation, the authorities will conduct an autopsy.”

“I guess so,” I reply dully.

“I expect they’ll want to talk to you too.”

I nod at her. “Won’t help. I don’t know what the fuck went down.”

She stands and walks around the counter and rubs me on the arm. “You know how the system works. The police will question you, suspect you. Make your life hell until they’re satisfied you had nothing to do with it.”

“I fuckin’ know that shit.”

She doesn’t flinch at my hostile tone. “None of this is going to be easy, but you’ll get through it. I promise.”

“Thank you,” I say sincerely. She certainly chose the right calling.

In my car, I fall apart again, but only for a minute or two. Grief will have to wait. Sorcha’s safe, but Stella’s out there unprotected. My hands start shaking again as I pull out my phone, then realize I don’t have her number.

I lean my head back on the seat and close my eyes. Exhaustion seeps through me. My overwhelming need right now is to go home and fall apart. But I gotta find Stella, talk to her.

As I pull out on the road, I try to reassure myself. No one knows about her. She’ll be okay.

When I get home, I glance across the street. Her car’s not there and my heart tries to pound its way out of my chest. This time though it’s not about her safety. This time it’s over the thought of losing her. Maybe she’s had enough of my shit life. Maybe she’s afraid that if she’s with me, she’ll be in danger.

No. She’s not that kind of girl. I don’t know how I know, but I do. So why isn’t she waiting here for me?

Then I panic again, thinking that maybe Joker fucked her up. I reject it immediately. He wouldn’t do something like that. Neither would Reaper.

There’s only one thing to do to settle my rapid thoughts. I trudge across the street and rap on her parents’ door. It takes a minute for Stella’s mom to open the door, and when she does, she peeks out at me with caution.

I’m trying to think of what to say that won’t set her off when she undoes the chain and fully opens the door.

“What’s happened?” she exclaims.

I realize I must look like shit. “Nothing to worry about,” I say as my voice cracks.

“Has something happened to Stella?” Her eyes are wide and full of panic.

“No,” I quickly reassure her. “I just need to call her and don’t have her number.”

She grabs my arm and hustles me inside. “Sit down,” she orders as she shoves me into a chair. She leaves and a minute later she returns holding a glass.

“It’s whisky,” she says as she hands it to me. “Drink it, then tell me what happened.”

I knock it back and feel the warmth of the alcohol spread through my bones. This woman raises slightly in my estimation. “Thanks.” I set the glass on the table. “I need to go. Just need Stella’s number to call her.”

I start to stand, but she pushes me back into the chair. “I’ll give you Stella’s number after you tell me what’s happened.”

I squeeze the bridge of my nose and blink away the threatening tears. Finally, I look up. “My mom was killed today.”