Red (Hell’s Jury MC #5)

21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

Red

I’m at a rest stop near Truckee, leaning on my bike, wishing I still smoked. It’s better than alcohol, which is what I want in barrelfuls, but I need to think clearly right now. Truckee is enroute to nowhere. Ridin’ my Road Glide helps me think.

My phone rings as I put on my helmet.

“Yeah?” I answer.

I know it’s Stella, don’t know why I greeted her so tersely.

“It’s Stella,” she says, her voice unsure.

Guilt slams me for my bad attitude. She’s only been in my life a few days and I’m treating her like a family member. Leaning on her, trusting her, taking her for granted. Making her carry my burdens. It’s unfair to her, but I’m a selfish bastard.

“I know,” I reply in a softer tone. “How are you?”

“I’m okay. Dad and I talked.”

I flatten my voice. “About what?”

“Everything,” she replies, the words rushing out her mouth. “He said he did some soft enquires and found out that you’re gonna be called into family court. He said Sorcha could stay with them until if and when you’re required to turn her over to family services.”

“Fuck,” I say, my rage growing unreasonably. “Not much reason to keep her hidden then, is there? I should’ve known better than to trust your parents’ to have my back.” I scoff as I add, “A fucking lawyer.”

“No,” she denies. “He’s helping you, but he has to follow the law. I think he’ll support you all the way. And he’s got good advice.”

“What good advice?” I reply stonily. I’m still not convinced he won’t fuck me around.

“He said to find out if your mom had a will and if she did, who she named as guardian of Sorcha. That will be a big factor at the hearing.”

Cold creeps through me. “What if she didn’t grant me custody?”

Stella’s quiet. “Who else would she have appointed?”

I think it through. “No one.”

Stella exhales like she’s relieved by my answer. “That’s good. Do you know where the will is?”

“I don’t even fucking know if there is one,” I snarl, then immediately soften my tone. “Sorry. I’m kicking the dog.”

I hear soft laughter. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but that’s a first.”

I find myself grinning. “I guess I shoulda said kicking the sweetheart of the neighborhood.”

“I like that. Except for the kicking part.”

We’re both quiet, me wondering if I should tell Stella about how we think Chrissy might have betrayed the club, but I’ve known her such a short time. Then I realize that’s the problem. The Jury men aren’t supposed to talk to their ol’ ladies about club activities. How can I have a relationship with Stella and still be in the Jury? I wanna talk to her. About anything and everything. I don’t wanna keep secrets.

Stella says, “I can help find the will if there is one. We can check your mom’s house, see if there’s a copy.”

I dread the thought of going to mom’s house. She’ll still be lingering there. Her scent, her clothes, the little bits of her that she thought she had time to deal with, like the dishes in the sink, the laundry. Sorcha’s toys scattered throughout the house. They’ll still be there, waiting for her. And she won’t be back.

“Where’d you go?” Stella asks.

“Just thinking. You got time?”

“Of course,” she insists. “I have a three o’ clock class, but I can easily make it. You wanna meet there?”

I give her the address of my mom’s house.

“On my way.”

I stay where I am for a few moments, thinking about mom, Sorcha, Gabby. All the shit that’s going down. I’ve never asked myself if I’m wrong. What if my daughter and sister are better off without me? Even with my three-bedroom house in suburban Sagebrush, I can’t offer them stability. Not without cutting my ties with the Jury, not without leaving that life behind.

I close my eyes and see Stella, her expressive face, her beautiful curly hair, the way she throws herself at a problem and tries to fix it. Her hair-brained ideas, the cartoon light bulb that clicks on in her head.

I think of how we kissed, touched, almost fucked. I see her next to me every day of my life. Being a stepmother to Gabby, a big sister to Sorcha. I realize my feelings towards her are not about my vulnerability. I love the girl and everything she’s about. I want to spend the rest of my life with her no matter what goes down.

It’s why I don’t think I can have both Stella and the Jury. Even if Gabby and Sorcha are removed from my life, I don’t see Stella as an ol’ lady. I try to picture her in a property vest and no image pops up. She’s already got a uniform that she identifies with. Her jersey, high tops, hair band. That’s who she is. That’s who I want.

I hang my head, scuff the earth under my feet. It’s hard to walk away from a one-percent bike club for so many reasons. They’ve offered me a home, support, friendship. I’ll lose their trust, be ostracized. If I get in trouble, they won’t help me out. Maybe they won’t let me walk away. They don’t like loose ends and an ex-member is a loose end. Maybe they’ll put me to ground instead.

I inhale deeply as I clear my head. Go meet Stella, Red. You can cross all the other bridges when you come to them.

Stella’s waiting for me when I get to mom’s house. Mom and Sorcha’s house. No longer a home.

“Hi,” she says as I walk up to her. She puts her arms around my waist and squeezes. “You okay?”

I assess the question, then lie. “Yeah.”

As we step inside, I look around.

The usual chaos in the house causes a lump in my throat. Mom was so like this. The house was always clean, but untidy. One of Sorcha’s coats is on the arm of the couch next to a stapler and a couple of books. A power bill is on the floor on top of a stuffed dinosaur and there are several dolls against the TV cabinet, all lined up in a row. A glimpse into the kitchen shows an unfolded pile of clean towels on the table and dishes strewed carelessly on the counter. Nothing ever had its own place. It just landed somewhere and stayed there until mom moved it.

Stella smiles as she looks around. “Finding the will might take us a while.” She rescues the dinosaur from under the power bill. “We should grab some of Sorcha’s toys and clothes while we’re here.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

This house haunts me, which was why I didn’t come home a lot. Dad was a mean sonofabitch. Knocked my mom around, knocked me around. Drank and smoked pot to excess. My mom and he were mismatched. She was a gentle soul and he was the devil.

She got pregnant with Sorcha while I was running around fucking up my life, and then I went to prison and selfish prick that I was at the time, spent more time dwelling on my sorry ass over thinking about my sister’s existence in our dysfunctional home.

But after I got out, I got to know my sister, at least enough to make an impression on her. She adores me despite my shortcomings. And I adore her. My heart hurts again as I think about losing her.

Stella brings me back to the task at hand. “Should we get started?””

I nod. “You do upstairs. Mom and Sorcha’s rooms. I’ll tackle this floor.” I’d feel like I was invading my mom’s privacy going through her things.

“On it,” Stella says. I watch her as she jogs up the stairs. Her loose-limbed athleticism is remarkable. Her red hair, lighter in color than mine, bouncing with her strides. Her hard ass, her long legs. Everything about her makes my heart thump, my gut roil. My dick harden. I want to take her. Keep her. Own her.

I turn away so I can focus on looking for the will.

I go through the main floor methodically. It’s not a big house. Kitchen, living room, dining room and a half bathroom. Upstairs is a full bathroom and two bedrooms. The master and then mine until Sorcha came along. I think about my shit stuffed in a closet in Sorcha’s room. Think about what embarrassing crap Stella might come across. It doesn’t matter, I decide. It’s who I was.

I get as far as the kitchen when I hear Stella call, “Got it!” She takes the stairs two at a time, holding a thick envelope. “It was in the dresser, in her sock, mitten, and tissue box drawer.”

“Exactly where I would’ve put it.”

We sit side by side on the couch as I open the envelope and pull out some papers.

Stella watches as I shuffle through them.

“Shit.”

“What?” Stella asks. She brushes me as she leans in for a closer look and the hair rises on my arms.

“One’s my dad’s,” I say.

“So they’re old?”

“Yeah. They predate Sorcha’s birth.”

“Doesn’t matter, I don’t think,” Stella muses. “Unless they didn’t appoint you as the beneficiary if they died at the same time.”

I leaf through the pages, but the lawyer speak is gobblygook. “This shit is fucked up.”

Stella plucks the wills from my hands. “Look here,” she points at a paragraph. “If one of your parents dies, everything goes to the other. If both parents die, everything goes to you.”

“Except Sorcha,” I say.

“Well, it’s implied, isn’t it? Sorcha’s part of it all, isn’t she?”

“Don’t think so. Sorcha’s a human being, not a house.”

She stares at the papers as she thinks. “We need a lawyer to look at this. I can ask dad.”

It annoys me that Stella’s dad is such a presence in her life. That he’s her go-to guy when she has a problem. “He’s a criminal prosecutor. And besides I don’t want to give anyone more ammunition to take Sorcha from me.”

“He’s still a lawyer and the fact that he’s letting Sorcha stay makes him trustworthy. He’ll know someone who does estate law.”

“I don’t trust fuckin’ lawyers. The last one I had got me an 18-month prison sentence.”

“Meredith’s a lawyer.”

I want this fuckin’ conversation over. “Let’s drop the subject. Lawyers talk to each other.” I think about Chrissy, the ol’ ladies, the Jury. Everyone talks to each other.

“They can’t because it violates client-attorney privilege.” Stella rubs the back of my neck to help ease my tension. “Or something like that. They can’t tell people your business.” She pauses, then, “I’ve got your back, Lachlan. And dad has mine. He won’t do you a dirty.”

Her charm forces me out of my dejection and makes me laugh. “Do a dirty? Pretty tough talk from such a pretty girl.”

“Not anywhere near what I say during a game.”

“I can imagine.” I pull her into my arms. “You’re extraordinary.”

“I’m not,” she replies with a hint of vulnerability. “Average marks, average skill at basketball. Average looks.” She shrugs as her gaze travels over me. “Only thing not average is my height.”

“That’s bullshit,” I say roughly as I squeeze her hard. “There’s nothing average about you.”

I grasp her chin and kiss her, gently at first, nibbling at her lips until she opens her mouth to me. I sweep it with my tongue, then take her hard, crushing my lips against hers. Our hands are all over each other as our breathing deepens. Hers, mine in tandem. We fit together, were made for each other. I know with conviction that I won’t ever look at another woman, let alone touch one. And Stella won’t ever touch another man because I won’t let her.

My hand slides under her jersey and I flick a thumb over the hard nipple that’s pressing against her bra. She groans as she bites my neck. Her hands roam down my back, then under my tee, her fingernails raking the skin.

I go to kiss her again, then we both freeze. She leans away from me. “This definitely isn’t the time or place.”

“Yeah,” I say as I get my breathing under control. I sit a moment to let my wood settle down.

She smiles at me, goes to stroke my face and I bolt to my feet. “Let’s go.”

This times she doesn’t look hurt. This time she knows the effect she’s having on me.

“Dad first?”

“I don’t want your dad involved right now.”

Stella mulls this over. “Okay, but Meredith should see the wills.”

I make her no promises.

We stuff as many toys and clothes in a box and suitcase as we can, then put them in Stella’s car. There are so many things I didn’t know about my sister. Most of the clothes she owns are pink, right down to her shoes. Her toys are mostly dolls and stuffies. She has four well-used books, all about unicorns.

She’s a girl through and through.

“It’ll be like Christmas all over again,” Stella says as stands in front of me outside.

I stroke her face. “I wanna see Sorcha, but I don’t think I can handle it right now. The last thing she needs to see is me falling apart.”

“I get it. Once she has her toys, I imagine she’ll forget all about you.”

I yank her to me and swat her ass. “I know you’re joking but too soon.”

“Sorry,” she says as she lowers her eyes to my chest.

I tilt her face to mine. “Make it up to me. Kiss me.”

She does, trying to match my ferocity of kisses, but she’s not there yet. “How’s that?” she asks as she steps back.

“Sweet as apple pie.” I swat her ass again, then let her go.

I think about the visit with Gabby tomorrow. It fills me with a longing so strong it hollows me out. “See you in the morning. Pick you up at your parent’s house?”

“No. I’ll stay there tonight, but after practice, I’ll go home and change.”

“Okay. Text me when you’re almost ready to go.”

She takes several steps backwards, her eyes glued to mine. “See you tomorrow.”

My heart thumps again as she gets in her car and drives away.