Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Hellhound
I didn’t want to leave Isabelle, but if I didn’t get out of my room and away from her, I don’t know what I’d do. In the past months, she’s gotten under my skin, and I don’t know how the fuck it happened.
Wait, yeah, I do know.
The moment I saw her for the first time beaten and begging for Angel and me to just leave it be. She didn’t want anyone in her business. I can understand this, but she’s not a woman who should have to do anything by herself.
Fuck me. It nearly crippled me this time around when we got to Tombstone’s to find she’d been hurt—worse than before.
While at the hospital, Ivy, Everleigh, and Josephine opened up to Angel and me about what was going on with Isabelle. Mostly because they had to stop the nurses from calling Bells’ next of kin, meaning her parents.
It was then I decided I was done fucking around. Isabelle doesn’t need any more of that shit in her life, and I wasn’t gonna let it continue. She’s mine. She just doesn’t know it yet. But she will when the time is right.
Over the past two days, I’ve kept a close eye on her but kept my distance.
She’s not left my room since I carried her ass in there.
The only time I’ve seen her face is when I go into my room after she’s fallen asleep to get my clothes.
As much as I would’ve enjoyed curling up in bed with her, I don’t.
Isabelle’s not ready for that shit. Soon though, I’ll be there.
It’s just a matter of time. I want her to heal some more first.
Sighing, I turn my bike into the parking lot of the hospital without even realizing it.
Earlier I left the clubhouse needing to ride my bike and get my own head right.
Isabelle’s closeness is fucking with my head, and I’ve gotta keep it clear.
Now’s not the time for any fuck ups. Not when two lunatic crazy bitches are out there.
Because of these cunts Reaper put both Ivy, Sutton, and now Isabelle on lock down. They’re not to leave the clubhouse.
I gotta give it to my Prez since he’s had to put up with Ivy’s anger over the fact that he won’t let her go to work.
She works at the garage we own and loves her job.
Shit, she keeps our shit straighter than it’s ever been.
But regardless, he’s explained to her that with her being pregnant, he won’t take any chances, especially when she’s getting closer to the end.
I think we’ll all be happy after this pregnancy is over. Maybe then Reaper will chill a little bit. Then again, I highly doubt it. He’s seriously protective over Ivy, and I can’t blame him. Honestly, I understand his reasoning. I feel the same for Isabelle.
I’ve gotta find a way to explain this shit to her without her freaking out, but first, I gotta figure it out for myself.
I know she’s mine and that I intend to make that happen.
What I need to wrap my head around is the fact that she’s been hurt, and I didn’t stop it.
If I’d claimed her months ago, none of this would’ve happened.
Shit, a lot of things wouldn’t have come to over the time since that day Angel and I found her in her apartment.
Inwardly shaking my head, I park and stare up at the hospital. Why did I come here? It’s not like I need to go in there.
I know the reason, Stella. She’s inside working.
Since Ivy’s accident, my sister has been coming around more, but neither of us has spoken to each other.
It’s not easy to be near her. Mostly because I feel like a failure.
I fucked up with her. Instead of being reasonable, I sent her ass packing, straight to Ireland, where she stayed for a while before moving back.
I’ve always kept tabs on Stella, mostly through our Uncle Luke Ryan or his son, our cousin, Connor.
Only my brothers know about the blood relations I have with my father’s family, and because of that, we have an alliance with the Black Clovers, who work closely with the Ryan family.
However, our club stays out of their business, and they give us the same courtesy, but they’re there for us if we need them.
The same goes the other way around as well.
Thinking about Connor, I smirk, remembering the last summer I was in Ireland. It was before the accident that took Stella’s and my parents from us. I nearly lost Stella that night as well. Maybe that’s why I flipped on her in such a harsh way because she’d not listened and put herself in danger.
Shit.
I release a breath of frustration and shake my head, my gaze going to the doors. I know my sister goes in and out almost daily. She lives and breathes this place. I realized this after overhearing Ivy and her talking about it not long ago.
I should probably talk to her, but how the fuck do I do that. It’s not like she’s speaking to me either. Our relationship as siblings is fucked.
Leaning forward, I brace my forearms on the handles of my bike, my brows creasing in the middle of my forehead.
I briefly close my eyes and look up to the sky.
If our parents were still alive, they’d be beyond pissed that Stella and I aren’t close.
That I didn’t look out for her as I should have.
A pain in my chest tightens, and I’m left feeling the way I always do—nothing but agony.
I sacrificed a lot when I lost my parents and then my family.
I turned my back on Stella. Now I’m suffering the consequences.
Which leaves me wondering how I can make sure Isabelle understands what she means to me. But more than that, how do I get past the pain of everything?
“Fuck,” I growl, sitting back up and gripping the handles of my bike. I kickstart my girl and, with one last look to the doors leading into the hospital, I hit the throttle and leave, heading for the clubhouse. It’s time I talk to Isabelle and get some things straight between the two of us.
The moment I get to the clubhouse, I know without a doubt something’s not right. I just can’t put my finger on it. I step into the main room of the clubhouse and scan the room. I spot Smoky lying on the couch next to Angel. Damn cat seems to have taken over the place.
Shit, I wouldn’t even call Smoky a cat. He’s bigger than a Jack Russel, just fluffier. Smoky, however, does seem to fit in with his always grouchy expression. The damn animal reminds me of one of those cats they always have those memes about.
Angel glances in my direction and gives me a chin lift. “Where you been?” he asks, turning his attention back to the game on TV . . . Longhorns vs. Jayhawks.
“Out ridin’.” I shrug, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why?”
“No reason.”
Yeah, right. No reason, my ass. With my Prez and VP, there’s always something. Neither of them mentions anything without there being a reason.
Deciding to leave it for the time being, I drop my arms and head for the hallway leading to my room. I ignore the others calling out to me. Especially the damn P&Ps. They know I don’t want them, and yet they still try.
At my door, I take a second to breathe and turn the knob. Soon as I push the door open, I realize what the fuck feeling of something not being right is.
“Isabelle,” I call out, already knowing she’s nowhere in the room or in the bathroom—the light was off, and the door was open.
Motherfucker.
Spinning on my heel, I storm back down the hall, my gaze locking on my VP, who’s doing the same by staring at me. “Where the fuck is she?”
“Tried to stop her, but she wasn’t having it.
You know I can’t stand tears, especially when it’s hers,” he mutters, slouching deeper into the corner of the couch.
“Bells became my little sister, and you know what that means when I say it.” Yeah, I did know.
“I let her go home, but only because I’ve got a prospect on her and knew as soon as you found out, you’d lose your shit. ”
He’s not wrong about that.
Narrowing my gaze, I clench my jaw and ball my hands into fists at my sides.
“You gonna go get her back?” Angel asks, cocking a brow.
“You fuckin’ know I am,” I snap, curling my lip in anger.
“Good, that means you claimin’ her?”
“Yeah, it means I’m fuckin’ claimin’ Bells.
She’s fuckin’ mine.” On that, I stalk toward the doors and out to my bike.
It’s gonna take all my self-control to keep my anger at bay when I get my hands on Isabelle.
She knew she wasn’t supposed to leave the clubhouse, yet she used tears on Angel to get her way and that shit ain’t gonna fly with me.