Red (Hell’s Jury MC #5)

15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

Stella

Sorcha is wrapped around me like a boa constrictor, her head on my shoulder, her thumb in her mouth. She won’t look at anyone and frankly, I don’t want to either.

A short Latina woman walks up to me, the same woman who called Joker an asshole earlier. “C’mon, we’ll go outside. I’m not everyone’s flavor either.”

When we get outside, she leads me to an area with sun chairs and a nice table. I sit down, still clutching Sorcha.

Another woman joins us, blond hair, tanned. She’s wearing a leather vest. “I’m Jess,” she says.

“I’m Ximina,” the shorter woman says.

“Stella,” I reply as I look at each of them. Then I half-smile. “You’re not exactly how I imagined old ladies would be.”

Ximina grins. “I’m not an old lady yet. They gotta vote me in and there’s some resistance.”

“Don’t worry,” Jess says. “Reaper’ll kill anyone who votes against you.” She glances at me. “Figuratively speaking.”

Ice floods my veins. Reaper. The thug that drove me home. Who threatened me. I stand abruptly. “You’re Reaper’s girlfriend?”

They’re both looking at me like I’m nuts. “Yeah,” Ximina says.

“I can’t. I can’t,” I say as I take a step backward clutching Sorcha closer to me.

Ximina stands. “What did he do?”

I feel the slide of tears. “It doesn’t matter, does it? Your boyfriends, old men, whatever they are, are dangerous thugs. I can’t believe you’re with them.”

The two women exchange glances as Ximina purses her lips. “I know you’ve had a bad day, but you’re being a hypocrite if you think Red has sunbeams shining out of his ass.”

I sit again because Sorcha has fallen asleep and I can’t support her dead weight. “Lachlan doesn’t threaten women. He’s never threatened me.” Back at the police station… was it only yesterday? Lachlan was under duress, but he only told me to get lost. Hangman was the one who made the threats.

Ximina’s eyes get big. “Reaper threatened you?”

“Yes.” I’m furious. “I don’t know why those guys are all assholes, but they treated me like a leper when I got Lachlan to the hospital. Forced me to leave even though Lachlan wanted me to stay.”

“They’re a closed group,” Jess says. “Don’t trust easily.”

Sorcha lets out a warm soft breath and I look down at her. “Clearly they don’t respect each other.”

Ximina huffs. “You haven’t been around long enough to know anything about them.”

I don’t know why I feel so hostile. Maybe it’s because Lachlan’s part of this gang lifestyle, yet it seems incongruent with who he is. Maybe it’s because these women are defending their partners’ actions.

Jess says, “They’d kill for you if you were in trouble. They’d keep you safe. They’d step in, look after you if Lachlan couldn’t.”

I don’t want to fight with them. “I’m not interested in them doing anything for me. I don’t want any of them near me.”

Tears spurt to my eyes and a few spill over before I can blink them back.

Jess reaches for me then changes her mind. “You’ve had a hard day and sure, these guys can be assholes.” She looks at Ximina. “I’m sorry Reaper threatened you. They were all shaken up after what happened to Red’s mom and Hangman.”

Ximina nods. “I’ll talk to him.”

I start to reply when Lachlan comes out. He doesn’t approach. “Let’s go,” he says, looking directly at me, not acknowledging Ximina or Jess.

I stand, shifting Sorcha in my arms. I try to think of some parting words to these two women who tried to comfort me. “Thank you,” is all I manage.

Lachlan doesn’t return to the clubhouse. Instead, he leads me around the side of the building and through a gate.

“Give me Sorcha,” he says when we get to the Mustang. “I borrowed a car seat from Hales, so we can get her home.”

He buckles Sorcha in, then, when he stands, he gets dizzy and grabs my shoulder for support.

“Are you okay to drive?” I ask.

“I’m fine,” he lies as he helps me into my seat then circles the car.

When we get to the road, he heads in the opposite direction of Sagebrush. “Where are we going?” I say softly.

“Gotta clear my head,” he mutters. “Gotta think.”

I glance at Sorcha. She’s sound asleep. “Talk to me. Maybe I can help.”

“Yeah,” he says, then sighs. “What am I gonna do, Stella? I can’t lose Sorcha.”

I squeeze his hand. “Would her grandparents be an option?”

“No,” he says so tersely I drop the subject immediately. “I can’t take her to my house,” he adds. “It’s not fit for a kid yet.” He swallows convulsively. “I got nowhere to take her.”

I’m careful to approach the topic, but if he has nowhere to take her, then it might be the only alternative. “My mom and dad would look after her.”

He narrows his eyes as he glances over, then returns his attention to the road. “Your mother…” He leaves the sentence unfinished.

“She’s good in a crisis. She took you in, looked after you, then called me. And no one will know Sorcha’s there, so family services can’t swoop in and seize her.”

Silence sits between us for a moment. Then he says, “Will they do that?”

“Yes,” I say. My parents can be difficult, but they’re also loving, empathetic and, as my mom proved last week, would attack anyone who threatened Selma’s and my safety.

His phone rings and he pulls into the parking lot of a campsite. “It’s Meredith,” he says as he picks up the call and puts the phone on speaker.

“What happened, Lachlan?” Meredith’s voice is filled with concern. “I heard…” She stops and takes a breath. “I heard that your mother was shot.”

Lachlan turns his head to look at his sleeping sister. “Yeah. She didn’t make it.”

“Jesus,” she exhales. “Where are you now?”

“Just driving. Stella’s with me. I have Sorcha, my sister too.” His voice breaks. “She’s just five.”

“I know,” Meredith replies.

“Right,” Lachlan says. “Of course you do.” He takes a breath. “Are family services gonna try to take her? She’s my responsibility now. She has no one else.”

“I don’t know. I want to put feelers out, but I also don’t want to raise the topic with Trula. She might not be looking at Sorcha and if I ask, then it will get her attention.”

“It doesn’t seem right,” I say. “One has nothing to do with the other. Isn’t it usual to place a child with a living relative? No matter how dysfunctional they are.” I glance at Lachlan as the words spill out of my mouth then try to mop them up. “I didn’t mean you’re dysfunctional. I just meant that generally that’s what they do and —”

Lachlan holds his hand up to stop me. “I get what you mean.”

I glance back at Sorcha. Asleep, she looks like an angel. Awake, she looks like a sugar pie. I’m in love with her already and I can’t help but think that I’m going to get hurt in the end.

“Where are you taking her?” Meredith asks.

“Right now?” Lachlan replies. “To Stella’s mom.”

“Seriously?” There’s a ton of skepticism in her tone. “She’s the crazy woman who got you in trouble to start with.”

I shrug at Lachlan. Meredith’s right. “She realizes her mistake. Knows Red’s mom died. She’ll understand the situation.”

I’m crossing my fingers in my head. Mom can be coaxed into this, but Dad could go either way. He doesn’t like seeing families torn apart and thinks family services need to do more to give the noncustodial parent rights to access. On the other hand, he’s prosecuted many parents in court cases where the children have been abused or worse.

“We’ll talk later,” Lachlan promises. “I’m not surrendering Sorcha so family services can fuck off.”

He ends the call, then looks at me. “Fuck this world.”

The burden of his situation strikes me hard. I’m no more equipped to handle this than Lachlan is.

He’s leaning on you, Stella. You need to do everything within your capacity to help him through it. “Let’s go talk to mom.”

When we get to the house, we pull into the driveway and Lachlan opens his door. I stop him with a hand to his arm.

“We need to do this discreetly because half the neighborhood is watching and the gossip will spread like wildfire.”

He nods. “How then?”

“Stay here.”

He closes his car door again.

I jog inside. “Mom?”

“I’m upstairs, honey.”

I take the stairs two at a time. “Dad’s not home, is he?”

“Of course not. He’s got that big case. Lot of late nights.”

“I need to park Lachlan’s car in the garage.”

Mom purses her lips. “Why?”

Her favorite word. Tears of frustration sting my eyes. “Just this once, mom. Just once could you trust that I’m doing the right thing. I’ll tell you everything when we get sorted.”

Mom must see something in my face because she doesn’t press me. “Just open the garage door then and pull in.”

“Thanks,” I murmur as I head downstairs. Mom follows and I glare at her but leave it alone. I’ve won one battle for the day. Of course, I have no doubt that another is brewing.

Once the garage door is open, I motion for Red to pull in, which he does.

“What is going on?” Mom asks.

“I’ll explain in a minute,” I say, pressing the button so the garage door slides shut.

Lachlan’s already got the back door of the car open and is fumbling to get Sorcha out of the car seat’s restraints. I nudge him out of the way. My fingers are smaller, nimbler.

Sorcha smacks her lips and makes a mewling sound as I step back and Lachlan gently picks her up. “Where?” he asks me.

“Is that a baby?” mom calls from the doorway, standing on her tiptoes trying to see.

Yes mom. Mine and Lachlan’s. Like the baby Jesus. “No, it’s a five-year-old. Lachlan’s sister, Sorcha. She needs a safe place to stay.”

“Oh,” mom replies.

Wait, what? My mom’s speechless. Hell hath frozen over. “She’s upset. Sleeping now. Where should we put her?”

Mom peeks at Sorcha and her face softens. “What a little darling,” she says in a hushed tone. “Let’s put her on the couch. Less jostling, and she might stay asleep.”

“Thanks,” Lachlan murmurs as he hustles by the two of us and heads toward our living room.

Sorcha’s eyelids flutter as Lachlan lays her on the couch, but once he’s done, she settles back to sleep.

“Here,” mom says as she picks up a blanket folded neatly on dad’s chair, then elbows us out of the way. “We’ll put a blanket on her so she stays warm.” She steps back, her eyes shining and her face reddening, “Poor little girl.”

I look at Sorcha. I mean really look at her. Mom’s right. “Thank you,” I say to her knowing how devastated I’d be if I ever lost her.

“Kitchen table,” she orders as she turns around. “I’ll make some coffee.”

“I gotta leave,” Red says. “Get the car out of here. Get back to the clubhouse. We’ll be having an emergency meeting.” He runs a hand over Sorcha’s forehead, smoothing stray hairs off her face. “She’ll be okay here?” It’s more of a plea than a question, and I almost break down at the desperation in his voice.

“Yeah. You know mom. She’ll fight to the death to protect her babies.”

He smiles. “Just tell her not to call the cops.”

“No kidding.”

He pecks me on the lips before he leaves.