Red (Hell’s Jury MC #5)

38. Chapter 38

CHAPTER 38

Red

It’s somber in the house the next morning. Stella’s face is red and puffy and the bruise on her jaw is livid. Sorcha keeps kissing it.

“It helps, doesn’t it?” she says.

Stella smiles. “It helps so much.”

We toast the buns that were left over from chili day. It feels like years ago, but in reality it’s only been three days.

“The gramma puts jam on the toast she makes me,” Sorcha complains as she takes an exaggerated swallow.

“We’ll go to gramma’s soon, sweetie,” Stella says. “You can have a second breakfast.”

“Yay!” Sorcha slides from her chair. “I better get dressed.”

Stella shudders. “I should go over and get her some clothes. She shouldn’t have to wear the clothes she was wearing yesterday.”

“No,” I tell her. “Not yet.”

“But we have to explain what happened. I missed practice again.”

I slide my finger along the bruise on her jawbone then kiss it like Sorcha did. “I need to talk to your parents alone. I need to tell them what happened.”

Stella bites her lower lip. “That’s gonna go really bad. I should be there to support you.”

“That’s exactly what I don’t want. This is on me and if I hide behind you, they’re never gonna respect me.” I don’t add that if Stella walked into the house with that bruise on her face, her dad would likely shoot me right after her mom clawed my eyes out.

“Okay,” she relents. “I get what you’re saying, but you’re not the bad guy here.”

I don’t want to revisit the conversation we had last night, so I shrug into my Hell’s Jury leather and step outside. Then I stop, turnaround and return.

“Forgot something?” Stella asks.

I take off the jacket and throw it in the corner. “Yeah.” I walk over to her. “This,” I say as I gently cradle her face and kiss her then press into her as my erection grows.

Stella kisses me back, her hands wandering, getting precariously close to my dick.

I step back. “Jesus,” I breathe as I step outside, the cold air settling my boner.

It’s early, around 6:30, but Stuart and Sherri will be up getting ready for work. My stomach churns as I rap on the door. These two love, protect and support their daughters. All the good things parents should do. And I got Stella hurt yesterday. I hope they’re as civilized as I think they are.

Sherri opens the door. “Lachlan!” she exclaims. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you and Stuart. Can I come in?”

“Of course.” She steps back and pulls the door fully open. “Sit down on the couch. I’ll get you a coffee.”

In a few minutes, both Sherri and Stuart walk in with coffee in their hands. Sherri passes me a cup.

“Thanks.”

“So what’s this about?” Stuart says as he settles into his armchair.

Sherri sits in another chair. “You’re not going to ask permission to marry Stella, are you? Because that’s an insulting thing to do. It’s what men did back when they treated women like objects.”

Stuart looks at her quizzically. “That’s your objection to Lachlan wanting to marry our daughter?”

“Well, it’s a valid concern,” Sherri sniffs.

Jesus. “I’m not here to ask permission to marry Stella.”

“Then why are you here?” Stuart asks.

I take a deep breath then start talking. From the beginning. From the bad decision the club made to hang on to the photo that implicated the feds for murder. I tell them why my mom got shot. How Stella and Sorcha were taken. Why Stella has a bruise on her jawbone.

I don’t tell them about Chrissy or that Hangman set Stella up. That might be more shit than they can handle.

Neither of them interrupt as I share the details; their eyes stay steady on my face.

When I get to the end I stop hard. I can’t look at either of them. Their silence is killing me.

Then Stuart says, “What happened to those two criminals?”

“I don’t know,” I lie, but with a trace of truth add, “I took Stella and Sorcha out of the situation and let my brothers… the other club members deal with them.”

“Surely, they’ll turn them in,” Sherri says.

Stuart glances between us. “They should be prosecuted,” he says, but his tone lacks conviction.

Sherri says, “How’re Stella and Sorcha?”

I want to say they’re okay, but that would be the biggest lie I told. “They had nightmares last night. Sorcha is fixated on how she hates the men, how she’s glad Stella survived. And she’s making me out to be the hero.” I sit back and shake my head. “I’m not a fucking hero. I take full responsibility for what happened.”

“Language,” Sherri says and both Stuart and I cock our heads at her.

“The rules don’t change just because things are intense.”

Why aren’t they blowing up at me? Why isn’t Stuart punching my lights out. I wanna tell him to do it, that it would make me feel better.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Were the police at the scene?”

“No, not while I was there.” I feel like a kid confessing to dad, except my dad would have already thrown me against a wall. Either that or applauded me.

Stuart drains his coffee, then hands the cup to Sherri. “Can you get me another cup? Take your time.”

Sherri glares at him, grabs the cup and strides out of the room with a huff.

Stuart leans towards me and says softly, “I want to fucking kill you. You put my girl and your sister in the line of fire.”

“Yeah. I can’t make excuses.”

“That’s for bloody sure. If they had died. If Stella had died….” His voice cracks. “She loves you. And Sorcha doesn’t deserve to be in the system, but she also doesn’t deserve a cock-up of a brother.”

His opinion hurts despite the truth of it. “I know. I didn’t plan it this way. I didn’t expect it to happen.” I run my hand down my beard to give me time to think of the right words. Then, “I can’t take it back. But I love Stella. She’s my air. My sanity. She… you… all of you are the family I never had.”

“I believe you,” Stuart replies. “Stella feels the same about you. Her eyes light up when she sees you or talks about you; she’s happier than I’ve ever seen her.” He takes a breath. “No one can know this happened unless your president turns those bastards over to the police.”

I may as well be straight with him. “That’s not gonna happen.”

“Half of me isn’t sorry.” He rubs his temple. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

I blow out a breath. “It doesn’t make you a bad person.”

Maybe not the right words as he glares. “You’re not a fucking judge. Neither is your president. And I shouldn’t be one either.” He pauses, then adds, “But it’s Stella and Sorcha.”

“Yeah,” I agree because he’s right about everything.

He stands and paces away. “Stella can’t be out in public until the bruise heals or everyone’s going to think you hit her. If she says you didn’t, that will make it worse. The battered woman protecting her thug boyfriend.”

“Yeah. I thought of that.”

“And none of what happened can come out or it’ll blow up your chances of getting custody of Sorcha.”

“It won’t get out,” I promise. No one from the club is gonna talk about killin’ the feds.

Stuart takes a breath and mutters, “This is going to mess up Stella’s career.”

I decide now is not the time to challenge him on Stella’s plans for her future. “I’ll fix it.”

He laughs bitterly. “You’ll stay the fuck away from anything to do with her basketball. Sherri will sort it out.”

I nod. “Okay.”

“And you.” He stabs his finger at me. “If Stella or Sorcha get hurt again, you’ll disappear too and trust me when I say there will be no cops involved either.”

“I understand,” I tell him, my heart thumping, not at the threat, but his acceptance of my role in Stella’s life. “I’ll protect them with my life.”

He contemplates me. “I think you truly believe that, but you have to change things. You’re trying to keep your family together, but at the same time, you’re risking it all because of your affiliation with Hell’s Jury. It’s only a matter of time before you get sent down again or killed.”

“I’m quittin’ the Jury.” My mind was pretty much made up, but his words make the decision easier.

He nods. “That’s a start.” Then he pauses as worry etches the lines of his face. “Are they going to let you walk away that easily?”

“Yeah.” I think it’s true. Hangman’s Sorcha’s father. That irrevocably links him to me, whether either of us want it. And he essentially killed my mom. He might be a nightmare, and he might deny he was responsible for what went down, but what happened to mom hit him hard.

“I want Stella and Sorcha here until you fix your shit,” Stuart says firmly. “And stay away from them.” He glances at his watch as he sits again. “Where’s that coffee, Sherri?”

She steps into the room immediately and curtly hands him the cup. “It’s probably cold by now.”

He takes a gulp. “It is.”

“Good.” She sits on the edge of her chair. “What about the custody of Sorcha and Gabby?”

“I’ve got that covered,” Stuart says. “We have a hearing next Monday that will cover both matters of custody.” He drains his coffee, then stands. “Explain to our girls that they’re spending some time over here and there will be no contact. Then do what you have to do.”

Our girls, he said. Our girls. Fuck, I don’t deserve this.

“Thank you,” I say. “Both of you.”

Sherri’s mom side takes over. “Have you eaten yet? I can scramble some eggs.”

“Sherri! He’s leaving and not coming back until I say he can.”

Sherri rolls her eyes.

When I get home, both Stella and Sorcha are dressed. “How’d it go?” Stella asks.

“I’m still breathing.” I spread my arms. “No bullet holes.”

“That’s not funny,” Stella says.

She’s right. After yesterday, a lot of things won’t be funny for a while. “You and Sorcha are moving into your mom and dad’s house for a few days.”

“Good!” Sorcha looks relieved. “The gramma has jam.”

Stella, on the other hand, gets agitated. “What exactly does that mean?”

I pull her into my arms. “Means you’re safer with your family than with me right now. I’ve got a few things to sort out, then we can all be together.”

Sorcha grabs Stella’s hand and pulls her toward the door. “Let’s go!”

“Go,” I urge her. “This isn’t forever. It’s just until I’ve tied up loose ends.”

“Don’t kill them,” she says softly. “I don’t care what happens to them, but I don’t want you to be the instrument that makes it happen.”

She kisses me hard, then let’s Sorcha pull her out the door. I watch them from the front step as they head across the street. They turn around and wave before they go inside.

My phone rings as I step back inside. It’s Joker. “Church in an hour. Be there.”

“Sure,” I say without inflection. I walk upstairs, open my closet and finger the leather of my cut. I was so proud when I got it. Earned it. Excited to be sittin’ in church with my brothers. Back then, I didn’t think about my future. Didn’t actually believe I had one.

The Jury was my home, my safe place. They supported me, protected me, partied with me.

And came close to destroying me. I think about Trigger and Rocky, as good as friends as I’ll ever have. Rider and me startin’ to bond. I think about Hawkeye’s and how much I’m gonna miss working there.

I think about my future and what I’m gonna do to support my family. Whatever it is, it has to be legit. This is not about me anymore. Well, it is in a way because my girls are my world and if I lost them, I’d lose everything.