Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Isabelle
Present Day . . .
My entire body is throbbing with excruciating pain. More so, I’m complete and utterly tired of feeling helpless. That and scared out of my mind. It’s been a few weeks now since things went down with Sutton and all the craziness where I ended up in the hospital.
This past year has been filled with nothing but craziness. I went from only having to hide parts of my life from my friends to keeping Angel out of my business. Then worse, Hellhound got involved a few months ago. Between both men, they’ve made me want to do my head in.
I mean, seriously, I don’t think they’ve really left me alone for more than a day.
They’ve constantly been in my face, mostly Angel, demanding to know what I’m doing.
I haven’t said a word about my new job to them.
I didn’t want to quit working for Mia. She was cool to have as a boss, but like everything else in my life, it’s never solid.
Dexter found out and forced me to quit and start working at a smack house. He pretty much controls my every move.
Or he did until the other week when I’d been kidnapped and beaten worse than even Dexter has dished out in years—okay, months.
Sutton’s brother, or whoever the hell he was, hurt me to the point I wished for death. Unfortunately, again, I’m not so lucky. I have the worst luck in the history of mankind.
Now I’ve got to find a way to turn my luck around at least the smallest bit.
I think there’s been enough drama to go around lately, and my friends and the men around here don’t need more.
I’m sure the moment my parents or Dexter find out where I am, they’re sure to come calling, bringing it to their doorstep. I can’t have that.
Why did Angel and Hellhound bring me to the clubhouse after I was discharged?
Ugh. I asked them to take me home, but of course, nope, neither listened to me.
“I need to get home,” I murmur, breaking the uncomfortable silence between my friends and me while we all camp out in front of the TV with the Hallmark Channel playing—not that anyone is really watching it.
Well, my friends and Stella. She’s a doctor who helped take care of me at the hospital.
She’s also Hellhound’s sister. Stella told me during my stay. “Smoky will be missing me.”
I miss my cat. He’s a Maine Coon and absolutely adorable.
The day I got Smoky, I wasn’t looking to get a pet, but one look in his pretty brown eyes, and I was hooked.
He became mine, and I don’t regret it. Smoky is like having a dog but in cat form.
He’s massive in size and demands to hog the bed.
However, that order comes with him curling into me to stroke behind his ear.
“You’re staying here with us,” Ivy declares, her eyes coming to mine while her hand settles over her stomach protectively. “Smoky is fine. He’s actually in Angel’s room.”
Um, what? Why didn’t I know this? No one told me they took my cat from my apartment. Granted, I’m grateful he’s being taken care of, but still, someone could’ve told me.
“I can’t stay here. I don’t want to be a bother.
” I hate being a bother. I don’t like the idea of attention being directed in my direction.
It always means bad things for me. I prefer to stay out of the limelight.
Or, in this case, out of the way in general to keep the part of my life I’ve kept the girls out of away from them.
“Isabelle, you’re not a bother,” Sutton says, though she’s not looking at me but rather past me.
I don’t bother looking. I don’t want to know what she’s looking at.
I simply need them to understand. They know what I deal with, just not all of it, to the extent it’s been for years now.
“You know what I mean,” I whisper, meeting each of my friends’ gazes as they finally let what I’m saying sink in.
“I don’t want them coming here, and you know they will when they find out.
They’ll be blitzed out of their minds—demanding money.
I need to get home, get back to work, and keep them as far away as I can.
I’ve already missed too much time . . .”
“Woman, you ain’t goin’ anywhere?” I jump at the snarl of Hellhound’s voice right behind me, interrupting me before I can finish.
I whip my head around, ignoring the pain, and find him glowering down at me.
Worse, Angel’s standing next to him doing the same.
“You’re keeping your ass right here at the clubhouse whether you like it or not. ”
“But . . .” I try protesting, but Angel stops me this time
“I agree,” Angel growls, glancing between Hellhound and myself.
“I can’t,” I state, shaking my head. Neither of them knows about my folks, and I want to keep it that way.
Hellhound curls his lip in anger and leans down, narrowing his gaze, meeting mine. “You are. You’re done with those fuckin’ parents of yours, and that’s final.”
No. No. No. This can’t be happening. Hellhound didn’t just say that to me. Please tell me he didn’t mention my parents.
Of course, he did. There’s no denying it. You can see the burning anger in his eyes as he glares at me.
I’m unable to hold back the gasp. Surprised he would say that but mostly because he knows about them, period. I didn’t say anything to him or Angel about my parents. The girls must have spilled something or another about my mom and dad.
I open my mouth to speak, to protest, but Hellhound shocks me once again when he reaches out and scoops me into his arms. Without thinking, I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on as he lifts me in the air, spins on his heel, and stalks down the hallway leading to where all the member’s rooms are.
I quickly glance over his shoulder, hoping to get help from my friends, only to find them gaping at us and Angel following hot on Hellhound’s heels.
I ignore the different ranges of looks from the men who’re standing around watching Hellhound carting me off. I also cringe under the death looks from the P&Ps.
My mind goes into panic mode, screaming ‘Mayday’ as if I am on a ship and need to jump before it sinks, taking me with it.
What do I do now?
Hellhound stops in front of a door, and Angel reaches around him and twists the knob. The door opens, and with his foot, Hellhound pushes it the rest of the way. Angel closes it behind him after we’re all inside.
I find myself lowered onto an unmade bed and instantly realize we’re in Hellhound’s room and not Angels. I know this because the earthy masculine smell that fills it is all Hellhound.
“I want to go home,” I blurt without looking at either man.
“You’re not going home,” Hellhound snaps harshly.
“Darlin’, you ain’t safe going back there.” I whip my head back and narrow my gaze on Angel at the soft tone he takes on.
“What do you know? Huh? How would you know what’s safe for me or not?”
Angel narrows his gaze and takes a step forward, but it’s Hellhound who gets to me first.
“Bells, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that shit out.
But for the record, we got Scythe and Styxx to look into it.
None of it we like. We’ve got enough going down right now with the bullshit Sutton and Ivy’s egg donors are trying to pull.
We don’t need your shit on top of it while we’re dealing.
So don’t fuckin’ try fighting, ‘cause I’ll tell you now . . . you ain’t gonna win.”
Someone please . . . please . . . please tell me he didn’t just say that?
Why am I even asking? Of course, he said it.
This is Hellhound we’re talking about. One thing I’ve learned in the past several months, he doesn’t hold back when he has something to say.
Granted, he’s not much of a talker as it is, and most of the time, when he does speak up, it’s harsh and mean, mainly because he’s telling me what I should do.
I shake my head, blocking out the time he came with Angel to my apartment and found me on the floor.
It took me pleading and begging for them not to push for answers and to keep the whole thing quiet.
I pretty much threatened to run away if they said anything, though I’m sure they wanted to call me on my bluff.
I have nowhere else to go, so honestly, where would I run to?
“You’re staying here whether you like it or not, Bells, and those fuckin’ parents of yours are nothing to you anymore. We’re not about to let the shit you’ve been keeping to yourself slide any longer. There’s more at stake here.”
That’s the second time Hellhound has called me Bells. What is up with that? He’s always called me Isabelle. Mostly he’s growled it in the past like I’ve been nothing more than a pain in his ass.
“Look, babe,” Angel says, a little calmer. “For now, you’re staying here, and that’s the way it’s going to stay. If you want, Smoky can stay with me while you heal, though the damn cat is going to learn to sleep on the damn floor. I’m not spooning with a furball.”
I giggle softly at Angel talking about spooning Smoky.
“I want Smoky with me,” I whisper, a small smile tugging on my lips.
“Not until you’ve healed more,” Hellhound declares sternly.
“He’s my cat, and I want him with me,” I argue, straightening my shoulders.
“Damn thing ain’t a cat, woman. He’s a damn feline on steroids, and he ain’t staying in this room which is where you are staying.”
I swallow as Hellhound’s words sink in. Staying in here? His room? Um, does that mean he’s going to be in here with me?
“On that note, I see she’s about to blow, and I’m out of here,” Angel declares and heads for the door. He stops long enough to look back at me. “Give it a couple of days, and you’ll have Smoky with you. I’m sure you’ll be able to talk my brother here around into letting Smoky-boy in here.”
I open my mouth to say something, but Angel is through the door, closing it behind him before I do.
A split second later, I realize I’m alone in a room with Hellhound, and I can feel his intense glare on me.
“Um . . .” I fidget nervously and pull my bottom lip between my teeth.
Hellhound watches this, and his nostrils flare in anger.
Instead of speaking, he turns and stalks to his dresser, where he opens one of the top three drawers.
He reaches in, pulls out a T-shirt, spins back to me, and tosses it to me.
“Here. Put this on. Get some rest. I’ll be back to check on you in a bit. ”
Without giving me a chance to speak once again, he leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.
I release a breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding and stare at the door, wondering to myself what in the world just happened. I also can’t help thinking about the fact that Hellhound put me in his room and why.