Page 10 of The Souls We Claim
“A what?”
I roll my neck and hear it crack. I don’t need this shit. Lola begins to fidget in my arms. But maybe this woman is the answer to my prayers. If I can get her out of whatever mess she’s in, get her set up in a way I know will be good and healthy for Lola, she can take her in.
But only once I know for sure that this isn’t about the money and Lola will be safe.
“You really want to know? Wouldn’t it be better to just know your niece a little?”
The tears finally spill over her face. “My sister left home without a forwarding address or contact when I was thirteen years old. Our home life was miserable.” She looks up at theceiling. “Still is,” she mutters, so quietly I almost miss it. “Just tell me.”
“A sweet butt is a woman who…belongs to the club. As a…you know…when guys want company.”
“My sister was a prostitute?”
“It’s not as simple as that. But she ended up with my dad, Wrinkle. She lived with him.” I gloss over all the details. Of how he never trusted her motives. How Mercy would make a pass at me every chance she got in a bid to upgrade the biker she was with. As road captain, I ranked higher than my father. With tears now running down Arianne’s bruised face, I feel the need to spare her the specifics.
“Did he do this?” Her eyes go wide as she looks at Mercy’s coffin.
I shake my head. “No. Someone broke into their home and murdered them both. I buried Dad yesterday.”
And at the wordmurdered, Arianne places her forehead on Mercy’s coffin and softly cries. “What the hell did you get yourself into?” she says.
I look at the picture of Mercy smiling. “I bet she’d ask the same question of you.”
4
ARIANNE
My sister was murdered.
The words are on repeat in my head as I’m guided into the equivalent of a small doctor’s office in the Iron Outlaws clubhouse.
Another small sob escapes me. Tears keep coming like I’m a biblical flood. It’s almost like I needed to see Mercy’s coffin before I believed it was real. Now I know that I’m never going to see my sister again. And worse, she died before I ever really got to know her.
I don’t really remember getting here. Halo led and I followed. His truck, a ride, sitting in the front seat maybe. Or did I travel in the back next to my niece?
My niece.
She’s beautiful and so like Mercy, I can’t stand it. Her eyes fade gray like mine do. Her cheeks are full, with a dimple in just one cheek…like my sister.
The clubhouse was packed with people, all dressed like Halo, and I felt their eyes on me as we passed through. I paused for a moment, considering whether I should leave, but Halo felt my tug of resistance and squeezed my hand in reassurance.
He handed Lola to someone, and I had to fight the urge to go grab her and hold on to her.
“Up,” Halo says as he steps into the room behind me, places his hands on my waist, and lifts me onto the medical bed.
There is something so calm and authoritative in his voice that I stay where he puts me. His eyes are more green than blue, framed with thick lashes, and he studies me carefully. Tall doesn’t even begin to cut it. He towers over me. He’s twice as wide.
“Why did you bring me here?”
“To patch you up. I’ll be back in a moment. Just stay here.”
I look around the room while I wait. It’s organized, sterile almost. A stethoscope is the only thing out of place on the counter. There are jars of swabs and those wooden things used to press your tongue down. And one of those units that takes your pulse and oxygen levels.
When Halo reappears, he holds a stack of clothes in tattooed hands that could probably crack my skull if he tried.
He places them down on the medical bed, lifts me back down, turns me around before gently unzipping my dress. Warm fingers trail down my back.
“What are you doing?” I press my hand to my chest to stop the fabric from falling off my shoulders.
