Page 4 of Lost Soul

I automatically do as he asks, my hands shaking uncontrollably as I hear the same words over and over.

Shot fuckin’ dead… Mama… shot fuckin’ dead.

Neither of us talk for the rest of the journey, and Jessie makes it in just over five minutes instead of ten. When we pull up at the club, Daddy and his brothers are already waiting for us in the yard. My door rips open the moment Jessie stops the truck, and Daddy pulls me out erratically checking me over before hugging me so tight I swear his strong arms will crush me to death.

“Princess, let Carly take care of you. I got to deal with business.” He holds me out from his chest and grips the top of my arms. “You’re safe now, ‘kay?” he assures me, pulling me back into him for one last hug before he lets Carly take over. I don’t want him to let me go. After everything that’s just happened to me, I want to be the fuckin’ business he has to deal with. When his firm grip around me is replaced with a much softer touch, I feel my heart break all over again. It’s not that I don’t like Carly, Skid’s old lady seems friendly enough. But just this once, I thought Daddy might make me his priority.

Carly offers me a sad smile as she leads me towards one of the parked cars and I look back helplessly over my shoulder, watching Daddy walk towards his men.

“Church,” he bellows at his brothers.

“You too, son.” His glare lands on Jessie as he marches through everyone. I never had the guys at the club down as religious men, but they seem to spend a lot of time in the old chapel on the compound, and I guess now is as good a time as any to pray.

Carly drives me up the compound’s dirt track, all the way up to the big lodge on top of the hill where Daddy lives. Once inside, she guides me through the kitchen and into his living room, where we sit, and she hugs me while I cry.

She stays silent the entire time, what can she possibly say to make me feel better? Words aren’t gonna bring my mama back, and there is no comfort to the emptiness that seems to be growing hollower inside me. Tears soak my cheeks until my eyes dry out and my heavy lids finally close. I drift off with my head propped on Carly’s lap, her hand stroking through my hair.

I don’t know how long I’ve been out for when I feel her shift from beneath me. Her legs being replaced with someone else’s, and a much heavier hand taking over her long, lazy strokes.

There’s a glorious few seconds right before my brain reminds itself of what’s happened, and when I open my eyes to face reality, it’s Jessie who’s looking down at me. His bright, blue eyes brimming with unshed tears of his own. Seeing him like this gives me enough strength to sit up and comfort him. My hand automatically lifts to touch his cheek, and my thumb strokes the bristles on his spikey jaw.

“I’m so sorry, Hay.” His face leans into my hand, welcoming my comfort, and I pull him closer. His arms wrap around me, clinging to me as if I’m the anchor that’s keeping him grounded. “I couldn’t save you both. There were two of them. One outside each of your doors.”

“It’s not your fault,” I whisper. “There was no way you could have got to us both.” My words do little to soothe him, his nostrils flaring out, and the softness in his eyes turning to stone.

“They’ll pay for this. You know that, right? The Bastards will pay,” he snarls through his teeth. I nod because I know that they will and I want them to, even though I know that means in death. I want it more than I want my next breath.

“I’ll never let anything happen to you. You know that don’t you, Hay? I will always protect you.” Jessie’s hands grip the hair on either side of my face, his eyes holding mine and making sure I heard him.

I nod before wiping my tears away with my palm and bury myself into his chest. My heart feels broken beyond any repair, but just Jessie being here, holding me like I’m all he has now, is enough to let me know that everything will be okay.

AGED 17

I have a lot to thank Jimmer Carson for. When my pa died, he could easily have let me go into the system, but the man took me in as one of his own.

He moved me in with his own family, he loved me like the son he never had. All surprising actions from a man who was supposed to be soulless, a man that even his own club members feared. Still, you don’t become president of the biggest MC in the state by being any other way.

I’ve seen a side of the man that many others never would. I watched him cry when he said goodbye to my pa in the mortuary, heard the promise he made to his lifeless best friend to love me like a son. And that was the moment I decided I wanted to be just like him. I wanted a brotherhood bond that couldn’t be broken, not even by death.

I wanted to be a Dirty Soul, and I wouldn’t rest until I wore the same cut that my father had died for.

I spent the next four years living in Prez’s family home, but most of my time hanging around at the club. I watched how the other brothers worked, knew far too much for a kid my age. But in the end I’d always go home to them, to Hayley and Mary-Ann. My family.

I always wondered if Prez had put me with them to offer me a choice. He could easily have kept me at the club, paid a club whore pittance to make sure I ate and slept. Instead, he gave me that glimpse of normality. He gave me Hayley.

Hayley is everything a little sister should be, irritating, nosey, and a complete brat. Still, I’ve always felt an overwhelming urge to protect her. It isn’t something Prez ever asked of me. No, back then it was instinct, and one I felt the need to keep to myself. I sure as fuck didn’t want anyone thinking I was adapting to the civilian life Prez had placed me in. My blood runs blue, I was born to be a Dirty Soul.

My pa, just like Prez, had been one of the original Dirty Dozen, a founder of the club. One of Twelve kids, who twenty-five years ago sat down together to write their own rules. Forming a club that years later would be twelve Charters big, with hell knows how many members.

I wanted to make my pa proud, to follow in his footsteps, and as soon as I was old enough, Prez gave me the chance. At first, he offered for me to prospect at my dad’s old Charter in Utah, but it didn’t feel right. I’d been hanging out with the guys here since I was twelve years old. I belonged with them, and the way Prez’s mouth hitched up when I told him that, showed he was happy with my decision to prospect here with him in Colorado.

Over the years I balanced my life between the club and home, never really letting Hayley or Mary-Anne get too close, yet appreciating having them around.

It had been late when I got back from the club tonight. I couldn’t get to sleep, Hayley is growing up, boys were starting to notice her, and she doesn’t help herself. I’ve seen the tiny tops and the extra swing she puts in her hips nowadays, and it only spells trouble. I’m starting to wonder what shot at a normal life Hayley is gonna get with her dad being who he is. Hell, it wasn’t as if she could bring some nice kid home from school and introduce him to the folks. If Prez caught a kid looking at Hayley in the wrong way I’d put money on his parents receiving their son’s eyeballs, along with his dick via courier the next day.

I thought I heard footsteps coming up the stairs and slowly clicked my door open, just enough to see through the crack. That’s when I saw them, two dark figures creeping down the corridor of the home that had become mine, guns in their hands that were threating the lives of my family. The family that I tried so hard not to care about, but couldn’t help but love.

I watched the figures separate, each of them taking position outside the bedroom doors, and I knew then I was gonna have to make a choice.

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