Red (Hell’s Jury MC #5)

13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Stella

As soon as Lachlan leaves with the doctor, Joker grips me by my arm and yanks me to my feet. “You’re leaving,” he growls.

“I’m not leaving,” I say, doing my best to keep the shake out of my voice. “Lachlan wants me to stay.”

“Lachlan doesn’t know what the fuck he wants right now, but I can guarantee, he won’t want a stranger hanging around if his mom dies.”

“I’m not a stranger!”

“The fuck you aren’t.”

He turns to another Hell’s Jury and says, “Reaper, take her home.”

Reaper nods, bands his hand around my arm and hauls me out of the hospital. I’m strong, but not fighting strong, and frankly I’m intimidated by him. “I don’t want to leave,” I say to him. “It’s a free world and you can’t make me.”

“What lying asshole told you that?” he snarls as he shoves me in the car. “Put your seatbelt on.”

He waits until I fumble it on, then slams the door and gets in the driver’s side.

I’m beaten, I decide. Down but not out. They can’t stop me from coming back.

Then my insecurities get hold of me. Maybe Joker’s right. Maybe Lachlan doesn’t really want me there. Maybe it’s just a shock reaction because I was there when he got the call about his mom.

I tell Reaper to drop me off at a mall not far from my place. I don’t want him to know where I live.

His parting words to me are, “Stay away from the hospital or you’re gonna end up as a patient there.”

I feel vulnerable as I walk home and keep checking over my shoulder to make sure Reaper or one of his so-called brothers are not following.

When I get home, I collapse onto the couch. What the hell just happened? I think back to what Rider said yesterday. About Lachlan’s world not being my world. My eyes sting because he’s right. I’m this stupid girl living in a bubble. My parent’s protect me. Violence has never touched me. Just a kid, Lachlan said to Meredith.

My apartment feels suffocating. It’s dulling my brain and I can’t think through what happened. I need to run. It always helps – takes me from a low to a high. Clears my head. I need that right now.

I heave myself off the couch and change into my running pants and a T-shirt. Put my nice high-tops away and slip into my broken-in ones. Cell, ear pods, ID, keys and a bottle of water and I’m good to go.

Just as I’m leaving, Lexie shows up. “Hey girl,” she says. Her grin falters when she sees my face. “Oh god, who died?”

Little does she know. “The meeting this morning with Gabby’s case worker didn’t go all that well,” I lie.

Lexie and I are best friends and we pretty much tell each other everything, but right now I don’t have the mental energy to explain what happened. Right now I need to get out of this apartment.

“Want me to join you?” Lexie asks.

“Not today, Lex. I gotta work through some stuff.”

She frowns, seems hurt because we’re soul sisters, so she says, “No prob. I shouldn’t anyway. Coach is still pissed at you so she’s working us extra hard.”

“Sorry about that,” I say as I head out the door. I decide to run towards my parent’s house hoping mom’ll be home. Just for comfort. I can’t tell her what happened. Not yet. I can’t handle her panicking over what could happen to me if I stay with Lachlan.

If he still wants you, Stella.

Yeah.

It’s a six-mile run and I jog easy for a while, then pick up speed.

The running clears my head so I can put two thoughts together. I think about Lachlan, think about his mother and his president getting shot. Think about his lifestyle. Think about Hell’s Jury, knowing full well that his association with the club is the reason for the violence, and probably a good part of his struggle to get unsupervised visits with Gabby.

I think he knows it, but for some reason is reluctant to leave the club. I kinda get it. I have parents, I have a sister, but my club is the Wolf Pack, my passion is basketball. My heart splinters at the thought of leaving the team. It helps me understand Lachlan better, except there’s so much more at stake for him.

I’m less than a mile from mom’s house when my phone rings. “Yeah,” I say as I stop and pick up the call on my EarPods. I bend over and put my hands on my knees to catch my breath.

“It’s mom, Stella.” She sounds agitated. Not what I need right now.

I try to sound neutral. “What’s up?”

“Lachlan is here,” she whispers.

“Here? You mean in the house?”

“Yes. He came over to get your phone number and looked sick.” I hear her catch a sob. “His mother died and he’s devastated.”

Tears sting my eyes as I’m overcome with empathy. “Tell him to stay put. I was coming over anyway. I’m about a mile out.”

“Okay,” she says, then, “Watch that you don’t get hit by a car.”

She’s says something like this anytime Selma and I go running. Usually, I ignore her, but this time panic underscores her words. And this time, I look over my shoulder before I start full-out running.

My heart hurts. Lachlan’s mom didn’t make it. God, so awful and his little sister…. Tears ravage my face and I swipe at them. Cry when you get there, Stella. You just gotta get there.

Two blocks from mom’s house, I stop running and walk slowly. I don’t want to rip into the house winded. I need to be calm for Lachlan’s sake.

Lachlan’s sitting in the dining room when I step inside, but he stands abruptly when he sees, me. “Stella,” he rasps.

I rush to him and wrap my arms around him. “I heard.” He pulls me close, buries his face in my hair.

Mom’s hovering in the background letting the scene play out for a change. I can see her face over Lachlan’s shoulder, see how hard she’s trying not to say anything. The death of Lachlan’s mother trumps my mom’s displeasure at me hugging the biker.

“You left,” he says.

I don’t make excuses. Not yet. “I’m sorry.”

He clutches at my hair and tightens his arms. “I can’t handle this.”

I look at mom again. “Let’s go to your house. We can talk there.”

Mom widens her eyes at me, has a stern look on her face.

I shake my head. Not now, I mouth.

I slide my arm around Lachlan’s waist and help him out the door and across the street. He fumbles the house keys out of his pocket, tries to unlock the door, but his hands are too shaky.

“Let me,” I say gently as I take the keys and open the door.

He stumbles inside the house, then sits heavily on the couch.

“I’ll get you something to drink.” In the kitchen, I drink three glasses of water to rehydrate, then refill the glass and bring another into the living room for Lachlan. I don’t know how big a drinker he is, but booze is not the answer right now.

He thanks me when I hand him the water but doesn’t drink it. “What am I gonna do, Stella?” he asks as I sit cross-legged next to him.

“I don’t know,” I tell him truthfully. “But we can figure it out.”

He shifts his bulk so he can see me. His face is tragic, a lost boy. Drifting right now. I hurt for him.

“This is my fault,” he rasps. “My fuckin’ fault.”

I drain my glass, set it on the floor, then take his hand. “It’s not your fault. It’s the bastards who shot her.” I want to ask how his president is, but I sense this is not the right time. I’m right.

“It’s fuckin’ Hangman’s fault. Whoever done it was shooting at him. My mom’s collateral damage.”

It’s probably true but blame and guilt can come after the practicalities. “Where’s your sister?”

“Sorcha?”

“Yeah.”

He struggles through the fog. “Still at the clubhouse.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. She’ll be safe there and family services can’t get her.”

I almost lose my breath as I think through the consequences of what happened. “They can’t have her,” I say. “She belongs with you.”

“That’s not how Trula will see it; she’ll be bitching about how important it is to give Sorcha stability.”

“Right,” I say bitterly as I think of Trula. “She won’t think that Sorcha has just lost her mother. And will lose her brother too if she’s taken into care.”

“Yeah.” He takes a sip of water, then flings the glass across the room. It hits the front window and shatters. “Goddamn cunt.”

Tears run down my cheeks and drip on my tee. I hurt so badly for him. “We’ll get through this together. My mom’s a good arranger. She’ll help deal with the details. So will dad.”

He looks down at his big hands. “I don’t want another family.”

“That’s not what I’m suggesting. You need help, all you can get.” I think about Meredith. Think about suggesting that Red call her, but he interrupts that train of thought.

“There’s gonna be an autopsy; the cops will wanna interview me.”

“Yeah, I guess. But you were in the meeting when it happened so it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m a fuckin’ ex-con and a Hell’s Jury member. They’ll find a way to make it matter. Those bastards will try to railroad me.”

I think back to the weekend, the way they arrested him. The threats, the physical violence. “Dad will help. He’s a state prosecutor, but he’s fair and honest. He might not be able to handle your mom’s case himself because of your association with me, but he’ll make sure you don’t get charged without evidence.”

Lachlan shrugs like he doesn’t care.

“Mom’s probably on the phone with him right now having a melt-down because her baby girl is all alone with the gang member.”

That gets a small smile out of him. Then he shifts and drags me into his arms, onto his lap. His lips find mine and he devours them. When he comes up for air, he says, “I need you, Stella. You don’t know how bad.”

I want you, I say silently. You don’t know how bad.

I cradle his cheeks in my hands as I straddle him, kissing him as hard as he’s kissing me. I feel his erection pressing into me. Hair rises on my arms at the same time heat floods my body. “Lachlan,” I say breathlessly.

We stay that way, him holding me tight against him, a hand in my hair, pressing my lips against his. His tongue sweeps my mouth, probing, hot, desperate. I’ve never been kissed like that before, never felt the burning desire he’s causing.

Suddenly his whole body stiffens. He sets me back on the couch. “Not like this,” he says as his breathing slows. “I don’t want my desperation to be the reason we fu… be together.”

He’s right and I don’t either, sort of. “It’s okay,” I whisper stroking his face. Even in this time of tragedy, I can’t help but be thrilled over his words.

He takes my hands and kisses the back of one. “We gotta go to the clubhouse. Sorcha needs to know. I gotta talk to Hangman. I gotta know what the fuck he was doing with my mom.”

For the first time since this conversation started, I’m uncomfortable. “I don’t think I should go with you. Your brothers don’t like me.”

“Fuck them.” He stands, takes me by the hand, and pulls me to my feet. “We’re in lockdown. All the ol’ ladies will be there. They’ll look after you.”

I want to be there for him. Goddamn, I want to be there for him. Be brave, Stella. Be brave. No one’s gonna kill you and you can more than handle a little hostility. Which may or may not be true, because I’ve never been challenged like I was at the hospital.

Panic is clawing at me as I think about Joker, Reaper’s threat. “Lachlan?—”

“Please,” he begs. “I need you and Sorcha’s gonna need you. She doesn’t know anyone there. They’re all strangers to her.”

So am I, I think but don’t say. And he’s right. Hostility is just a thing. It’s unimportant. She’s a little girl and needs someone to be there because Lachlan is falling apart. “Let’s go then.”

“Thank you,” he says, squeezing my hand.

His phone rings. He looks at it. “Meredith,” he says as he presses the end button. “She can goddamn wait.”