Red (Hell’s Jury MC #5)

18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

Red

Meredith calls as I pull into my driveway.

“I called Trula and told her the visit with Gabby is still on. Day after tomorrow.”

Gabby. So much shit happened today that I haven’t given her much thought. Guilt hits me hard. She just lost her gramma, not that she knew who mom was.

“Is that a good thing?” I reply as my gut roils. “I mean?—”

“You will go and you’ll hold yourself together. Erin and Trula messed up your visit with Gabby and the one thing the kid needs is stability in her life. You have to show that you can do it, even when shit goes down. You’re a father. You’d be dealing with her anyway.”

“I don’t know if I can hold it together and I don’t want to fall apart in front of Gabby.”

Meredith shuffles her phone, then takes a bite of something. My stomach growls. I realize I haven’t eaten today. “Stella comes with you. The girlfriend to meet the daughter. Shows you’re serious about cleaning up your life.”

“The problem is that Stella is not my girlfriend.” My stomach rumbles again, but this time I know it’s because she’s the one for me and denying it won’t change anything.

“That’s bullshit,” Meredith replies. “The two of you have so much chemistry, I feel like I’m back in goddamn high school watching my asshole teacher blow up a volcano.”

I ignore her words. “What time?”

“11:30 to 1:30. Not much time, but that way you can have lunch with the kid.”

“Yeah. That’d be good. She can get to know Stella.”

“You misunderstand me. Stella is there for optics. You introduce her to Gabby, then you two head off outside or wherever. Stella can hang out with Erin. She’s a big girl, she’ll manage.”

“Assuming Stella will do this.”

“I’ve already talked to her. She said yes. You call her, fill her in on the details.”

Annoyance towards this managing woman starts to rise, but I keep it leashed. “Sure.”

“Good. We’re going to make this happen, Lachlan.” She stops, takes a bite of whatever she’s eating, chews, swallows, then adds, “The other thing, and I know this is the worst timing ever, but you need to get your place habitable for a child and as soon as you can. Gabby’s case won’t go before a court judge for at least two, maybe three weeks. But Sorcha. We can’t give family services any reason whatsoever to seize that child.”

The thought of losing Sorcha makes me dizzy. “Yeah. I’m on it.”

“Good. Call me after the visit with Gabby. I want to know how it goes.” She hangs up.

I run a hand over my face and down my beard. My mind is spinning out of control at the sheer enormity of everything. Arrange mom’s funeral, get my place in order, visit Gabby, keep Sorcha under wraps, find the fuckers who killed my mom. And that’ll be between the interrogation the cops will put me through.

And Chrissy being the snitch seems impossible. So quiet, so unassuming, hangs onto Fender like he’s her air. And then there’s the ‘why.’ Why would she do something like this to the Jury? It’s so risky. Doesn’t she realize that she’s signed her death warrant? And maybe Fender and Blood’s. Gillian’s even. It might destroy what’s left of the Jury. After such a betrayal, how will we trust each other or the ol’ ladies and passarounds?

I sense someone come up behind me. I don’t have to turn around to know it’s Stella. Her intoxicating natural fragrance floods my senses.

“Hey,” she says softly as she wraps her arms around my waist and leans her head between my shoulder blades.

I grab her hands and squeeze them tight. I’m a drowning man and she’s my savior.

“Let’s go inside.” I turn towards her, slide an arm around her waist and step through the door. I feel like Alice spinning down the rabbit hole. Everything in the house is the same and yet it also isn’t.

“Sit,” she says as she leads me to the couch. “I’ll get you a beer.” She’s wearing her game uniform with a light hoody; her hair’s in a headband, high-tops on her feet. It’s getting fucking cold and she’s still decked out in shorts. That says something about her, but I’m not sure what. Maybe that her clothes choices don’t matter to her. Maybe it’s because basketball is a huge part of her identity.

“Thanks,” I say as she disappears into the kitchen.

She returns, glass of water in one hand, a beer in the other. She hands me the bottle, then sits cross-legged against the opposite arm of the couch. “How’re you doing?” she says as she searches my face.

She’s done everything she can to get me through this day. “I’m fuckin’ up your life.”

“No. I’m fucking up my life.” She leans across the couch and squeezes my knee. “If I didn’t want to do this, I’d say so.”

I think she truly believes that’s the case, but she’s young and she has many different masters - her mom, her dad, her coach. Meredith even. And that’s a lot of pressure to withstand for a girl who’s been following the rules all her life. For Christ sakes, she’s drinking water instead of beer because she’s underage, because she’s an athlete. Still, I don’t challenge her. I’ll take what I can get.

Which eventually, I decide, will be absolutely all of her.

I take her hand off my knee and squeeze it, then settle it back in her lap. Despite all the shit that’s going down, my body burns with desire. I want her like I’ve never wanted a woman before but I also need her, and I can’t untangle need for want. I don’t know why that matters to me, and maybe it won’t in a day or two, but right now, it feels wrong.

“How’s Sorcha?”

Her eyes light up, transforming her face from pretty to astonishing. So expressive. I’ll always know what she’s thinking and feeling.

“She’s a sweet girl. And smart. She made chocolate chip cookies with my mom and then ate them for supper. She’s in bed now, my bed. I’ll join her when I go home, so I’m there if she wakes up scared.”

“Thank you,” I say as I rub my temple. “Thank you to your mom.”

“Meredith called me.”

“I know,” I reply tersely. “Stella, you don’t have to this. I’m involving you in shit that ain’t your problem.”

She flexes her fingers, slides closer to me. “I know. I want to do this.” She hesitates. “I have to help. I have to see this through. See what happens on the other side of this.”

“I want that too.” I stroke her cheek, then lean in for a kiss. A gentle one so I don’t turn into a savage. My hard-on is killing me.

She brings her hands up to cradle my cheeks but I take her wrists and give her a gentle nudge away from me. “You’re my salvation right now. I’m looking for comfort. It’s too soon for you and me.”

She shifts her eyes away from me and stiffly leans back on the couch. I see her innocence, her fear of getting angry in case I reject her.

I’d never do that. I’ll tell her someday. “We’re seeing Gabby day after tomorrow. I have to see Sorcha too.”

Stella nods.

“I have to get this hovel cleaned up.”

“I’ll help,” Stella says.

I grin for maybe the first time today. “How’re you going to do that? Use your sweetheart charms to get the neighborhood ladies to bring over mops and cleaning supplies?”

She returns my smile. “If it comes to that.”

“The guys from the club will come over. Do the heavy lifting in the back yard,” I say.

Her eyes flash with uneasiness, but her words come out casually. “I can make some food, get beer.”

My brothers can be animals. The shit at the hospital proved that. Some are tamer than others. Coyote for sure. And Rocky’s been whipped. Before he met Jess, he was probably the craziest of us all, or at least he and Trigger were neck and neck. Now they both’ve settled down, no longer go in guns blazing. They have reasons to live.

But she offered and I need her near me. “Do you even cook?”

“Of course!” she exclaims too vehemently.

“Okay then, you can feed and water us.”

“And I can clean inside. I’ll make a list of what’s needed to get it done.”

The moment is over as I think of mom. “Gotta plan mom’s funeral. I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t either, but my parents will.”

I shake my head. “I’ve intruded enough on your parents’ good will. The ol’ ladies will pull it together.”

She nods, but I see my rejection of her in her eyes. She wants to be the one to do everything. I guess I would be like that if the situation were reversed. I’d do whatever needed doing for Stella. It’s not lip service, I realize. I feel a surge of possession that I’ve never felt before. No one who hurts her will live to see another day.

She veers away from the topic. “What else?”

What else? Track down the fucks who killed my mother and make them wish they were never born. “I cooperate with cops, let them do the work. Hangman is shot up, the club’s gone into protection mode. If my mom got killed by being with Hangman, none of us are safe.” It’s all a lie. If the cops get in the way of the Jury, they’ll become collateral damage like my mom was.

She nods a couple of times. “That makes sense.” Then, “I talked to mom. She said she’ll look after Sorcha for a couple of days.”

“And your dad?”

She frowns. “I don’t know. He might not like it, but once mom makes a decision, it’s an uphill battle to get her to change her mind. Even for dad.”

“Okay.” I realize it’s ironic that the woman who got me arrested a couple of days ago is also the woman who’s backing me up on something that could get her in trouble with family services.

“Doesn’t she work?”

“She’s a dentist. She’ll take a couple of days off. Her colleagues will fit her patients in between their own.”

“Thank her for me,” I say as I stand. I’m tired, yet I doubt I’ll sleep. Even so, I need to be alone with my thoughts. I need to unravel the threads and deal with them one at a time.

Stella hesitates at the door as she looks at me with wide eyes. “You know, I’d do anything for you. And Gabby and Sorcha.”

She doesn’t realize what a big promise that is. Would she kill for me? Would she understand that I’m a killer? Would she give up her career for me?

I touch her face, run a finger down her cheekbone to her jaw. “You have no idea what you’d lose to do anything for me.”

She encircles my wrist and leans her cheek into my hand. “I guess I’ll cross each bridge as I get to it.”

I release her, take my wrist back. “Go home, Stella,” I say because my will to watch her walk away is disappearing fast.