Red (Hell’s Jury MC #5)

14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

Red

I should let Stella drive. I’m in fog, feel like I’m on a roller coaster. My thoughts speed up, then slow down. The light hurts my eyes. The Mustang feels unfamiliar. Maybe if I catalogue everything slowly, I’ll be able to hang on to my sanity.

My mom was shot.

She died.

Sorcha is an orphan. So am I.

We might lose each other.

We can’t lose each other.

The panic starts again.

When we get to the clubhouse, Stark waves us through, nodding solemnly at me. I park next to the bikes and get out of the car. Stella hasn’t moved. I see the fear on her face as she examines the clubhouse, the fenced back yard. Stark’s watching her, arms crossed, legs spread, eyes hostile.

“Fuck off,” I tell him as I round the car, open the door and lean in to talk to her. “No one’s gonna hurt you. We have a charter.”

“They made me leave the hospital, threatened me. Maybe you have a charter, but it felt real to me.”

“Trust me, Stella,” I say softly. “I will never break a promise to you.”

She blinks away tears as her eyes meet mine. “I’m sorry. You don’t need my emotional garbage right now.”

She offers her hand and I take it. She’s my lifeline and I know without knowing that she’ll support me through it all. I just know.

The world spins as we enter the clubhouse and I feel like turning around and leaving. Ride until I find the end of the earth and throw myself off the edge. But Sorcha’s here. My sister needs me.

The conversation in the big room is deafening, but when I enter, I’m like a preacher stepping up to the pulpit. Everyone stops talking. Everyone looks at me. Then they look at Stella and I see varying expressions. Hostility, curiosity, even confusion.

Jess breaks away from the group and heads towards me, but stops mid-stride when Sorcha comes running from the kid’s corner.

“Lachlan!” she squeals as she jumps into my arms. Her little legs wrap around my waist and she squeezes my face as she kisses me on the lips.

She’s greeting me like I haven’t seen her in weeks and truthfully, I haven’t. Guilt hammers at me.

“I missed you,” she says. She looks around the room, then cuddles in and whispers, “I don’t know anyone.”

Stella’s just turned five, still a baby. Still sucks her thumb when she’s anxious.

She looks over at Haley. “She picked me up from playschool.” Then her eyes slide by me to Stella and she’s suddenly shy. “Who’s she?” she whispers.

“I’m Stella,” Stella says with a gentle smile. “I’m your brother’s friend.”

“She’s my friend,” I repeat.

“Oh.” Sorcha looks at her again, then dismisses her. “Are you taking me home? Mommy forgot about me.”

“We gotta talk, sweetie,” I say. “Then I gotta talk to my boss.” I look up, see Joker. “Is he here?”

Joker tilts his chin towards the hall. “In his office. He’s not in great shape.”

I stare at him. “I don’t fuckin’ care.”

Stella shushes me as she nods towards my sister.

“Right.” I start to leave, head to the boardroom, then realize I’ve left Stella standing there. “C’mon,” I say to her.

“Why’s she coming?” Sorcha asks, the pitch of her voice getting higher. She’s tired - long day for her. She needs to go home, get some food, get some sleep.

“Because she’s my friend and because she’s gonna be your friend too.”

Sorcha furrows her eyebrow at Stella but keeps her thoughts to herself.

“Red,” Joker says. “Find somewhere else.”

The boardroom is sacred. We use it for church. No women allowed.

Some of the ol’ ladies glare at him. “It doesn’t matter, you asshole,” Ximina, Reaper’s girlfriend, says. “You can fumigate afterwards. Get all those scary girl germs out of it.”

Joker narrows his eyes but keeps his thoughts to himself because Reaper’s watching him with a cold, dead expression.

The boardroom is big and smells new. Everything does. The entire clubhouse has undergone renovations. I set Sorcha on the table and then slump into my usual chair in front of her.

Stella sits next to me but keeps herself apart from us.

Sorcha is staring at me with big solemn eyes. This is a five-year-old. I need to tread carefully. I don’t know what to say, don’t know how to say it. Don’t want to say it.

I touch her knees, squeeze them gently. “I have some sad news.”

She’s staring into my eyes, a serious set to her face. She understands the concept of sad news. Her cat died a couple of months ago. “What?” she says in a tiny voice.

“Mom…” I choke.

Stella’s hand finds mine. “It’s okay.”

“Yeah,” I reply as I squeeze the bridge of my nose.

Sorcha is looking back and forth between us. “Lachlan,” she says fearfully.

I’m comin’ at this wrong, turning it into a soap opera. Get it over with, Red. “Mom got hurt today.”

Sorcha’s eyes get big. “How hurt?”

“She died, honey.” My voice cracks.

“She got deaded?” Sorcha says. “Like Peanut?”

Peanut’s the cat. I nod. “She won’t be back.”

Sorcha goes very still and the silence stretches as she processes what I’m saying. Then she launches herself at me, her arms circling my neck, clinging to me. She isn’t crying yet. “I don’t want her to be deaded,” she whispers. Then glances over at Stella. “I don’t want a new mommy.”

Stella pulls her chair a little closer. “I’m not gonna be your new mommy, sweetheart. I’m just gonna help you and your brother.”

The sorrow in Stella’s voice stabs me in the heart. “Stella’s just going to help us. You and me. Look after us for a while.”

Sorcha holds herself still and for a moment I think she’s handling it, but I’m wrong.

She starts kicking and screaming. “I want my mommy! I don’t want her deaded!”

I struggle to subdue her, wrap my arms around her and hold her close. Weep with her, feel her grief. Her bewilderment. “I’m sorry, Sorcha,” I stutter, trying to get myself under control. She needs a big brother now, not some blubbering idiot.

“No!” She wrenches backwards with such force, I almost drop her. “I want mommy! I want my mommy!”

“I wish I could get her, but I can’t. She’s gone.”

She stops screaming and starts pleading. “Please get mommy, Lachlan. Please, please.”

“I can’t baby.” I hug her tightly and sprinkle kisses over the top of her head.

Stella inches closer and rubs Sorcha’s back in circles. “Lachlan will look after you, sweetheart, and I’ll help. It won’t be the same as having your mommy, but you don’t have to worry about what will happen to you. You’ll be safe and loved.”

Sorcha turns towards Stella, then launches into her arms, startling both of us. Stella looks at me with wide eyes when Sorcha says, “It’s okay if you want to be my new mommy.”

“That’s something we can talk about later, Sorcha,” I say as I brush her hair away from her wet face. She’s hurting, needy, grasping at straws, but neither of us can make that promise. Even if Stella and I stay together, even if family services stays the fuck away from us, it won’t play out that way. I’m her brother. I’ll never be her dad.

“I gotta talk to my boss,” I say to Sorcha. “Is it okay if you stay with Stella?”

Sorcha shakes her head as she plucks at Stella’s tee. “I don’t wanna.”

“Please,” Stella says. “I don’t want to stay alone.”

Sorcha stretches back and looks in Stella’s face. “Are you scared?”

Stella nods. “A little bit.”

“Me too,” Sorcha whispers. “I don’t like it here.”

“Yeah, but if we’re together it won’t be so bad.”

“And I’ll only be gone a couple minutes,” I say. “We’ll leave right after I talk to Hangman.”

Sorcha looks confused. “Mommy’s friend?”

Shock ripples through me. “You know him?”

She’s stroking Stella’s hair, concentrating on her curls. “Sometimes I see him.” She screws up her face. “Not for a long time though.”

What the fucking fuck? Mom wouldn’t be dead if it weren’t from him, and now I find out they see each other. Fuckin’ sometimes.

I steady my voice. “You’ll be okay with Stella?”

Sorcha becomes shy as she peeks into Stella’s eyes. “Yes.”

I touch Stella’s hand to get her attention. “You can’t stay in this room.”

She frowns, looks around. “Is there somewhere else. Private?”

She’s not going upstairs and sitting in one of the bedrooms. Even the one I still use. Especially the one I use. “Don’t worry, the ol’ ladies will keep you company.”

That doesn’t seem to alleviate her discomfort, but like a trooper, she nods.

As we leave the room, Sorcha changes her mind. Stretches her arms out towards me. “I wanna stay with you, Lachlan.” Big fat tears score her cheeks.

“I’ll be back soon,” I tell her, then kiss her forehead and step back.

She hiccoughs. “Promise?”

My heart cracks at the sorrow in her eyes. “Promise.”

Stella walks down the hall carrying Sorcha like she’s precious. Arms tightly wrapped around her, hand stroking her hair. Stella’s young but she has an inner determination. Maybe it’s the basketball, the discipline, the fight to win. Or maybe it’s just who she is.

I turn my back on them and head into Hangman’s office.

He’s sitting at his desk, arm in a sling, face grey. He’s been in pain before, but this seems different. I wonder how bad he was hit or maybe it’s grief too. I wonder what my mom meant to him and my head goes to dark places.

As I enter, I see Joker leaning against the wall. I say, “Out. This is between Hangman and me.”

He hesitates.

I stare him down. “I will fucking throw you through that door if you don’t leave now.”

He glances at Hangman, who nods.

“He’s hurt. You don’t hit a man when he’s down,” Joker says.

I hate him at that moment for knowing what I want to do. Hate them both. “I won’t hurt his highness.”

Joker gives me a last warning glance before turning his back and leaving.

I cross my arms and look at Hangman. There’s defiance in the set to his face, fire in his eyes.

“How bad are you hurt?” I ask. I’m not sure I care or if I’m assessing whether it’s okay to hit him if I can’t control myself. I know I’m being irrational, blaming him for my mother’s death, but he’s part to blame. Him being with her for no reason I can understand.

He grunts as he shifts in his chair. “Took a couple in the arm, one grazed my shoulder. He points at his side with his other hand. “Caught one there but it was clean through. Flesh wound.”

“Mom caught six bullets. One in the neck. Two in the chest, three in the stomach.”

“I know.” He coughs as he shifts around again. He can’t seem to get comfortable.

“You should still be in the hospital.”

“Fuck that,” he rasps. “I’m a sitting duck in there.”

“At least you’re still fuckin’ sitting.”

“My fault,” he says. “I’ve been fucking around, focusing on club activities instead of keeping an eye on our enemies.”

“Or,” I say clenching my fists. “You shouldn’t have been with my mom in the first place.”

“Leslie and I ran into each other. I was walking her to her car.”

“Is that what happened?” I sneer. “Didn’t realize you and mom were so fucking friendly.”

Usually, Hangman is a force to be reckoned with. Usually, he would be bellowing, threatening me. But not today. He’s in pain, but it’s more than that. He seems to be grieving. “I’m sorry, Red. I’m sorry you lost Leslie.”

“Yeah, and don’t forget about Sorcha,” I say bluntly. “She lost her mom too. An orphan at five fucking years old.” I swallow hard. “And family services will be breathin’ down my neck. If I’m not fit to raise my own daughter, they sure as hell won’t think I’m fit to raise my sister.”

Hangman rubs his chest, coughs, then grimaces. “You’re her only living relative. They can’t take her away from you unless they have a good reason.”

“Don’t you think they already have one? Mom getting shot to death while hanging out with the president of Hell’s Jury? My club. My mother-fucking president.”

“If it gets to that, I’ll get involved.” He’s growling, getting pissed off.

I suck in a breath. “I don’t want your fucking help. I don’t want you near my sister. Do you understand? You’ve done enough damage already.”

Hangman glares at me. “You’re pissed because Leslie was with me when bullets started flying.”

“No shit.”

“Let me fuckin’ finish,” Hangman shouts. “Ain’t gonna change the facts. The fucks that opened fire… You wanna be pissed off at someone, be pissed at those cocksuckers.”

I place my palms on his desk and lean into his face. “Tell you what. You find them, I’ll skin ‘em alive. Won’t change a thing though, will it? Mom’ll still be dead.”

“We’re gonna fuckin’ find them,” Hangman snarls. “But you gotta get your head on straight. You got a sister to look after and a daughter who needs you. So don’t do anything that’ll get you killed.”

“Go fuck yourself.” I don’t want his bullshit advice right now. I don’t want him anywhere near me.

“Get the fuck out of my office,” he replies coldly. “And watch yourself, prick.”

I walk to the door, then turn around and point my finger at him. “I lose Sorcha, I’m coming after you.”

“I’m gonna forget you said that because your head’s fucked up right now,” Hangman snarls. “But you fuckin’ make threats to me again and I’ll throw you in a six-foot hole.”

I leave without replying. There’s no point. We both said everything we had to say.