Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Hellhound
“Try not to get hurt anymore,” Stella says, stepping away from Isabelle after giving her a once over. “Rest and drink liquids as much as you can.”
“Okay,” Isabelle murmurs, nodding. “Thank you for coming to check to make sure I’m okay.”
I glance from Isabelle to my sister to find her avoiding me as I’ve done her.
“No problem, I’ve got to go home and get ready for my date now,” Stella answers, packing her medical bag.
“Date?” Sutton questions, quirking a brow. “With who? You didn’t tell us you were seeing someone?”
I don’t want to hear this conversation, but at the same time, I’m not leaving Isabelle’s side. Not for anything.
Stella quickly looks at me and then back to Sutton. “I, um, I . . . just a guy I’ve met through a friend.”
“What’s he look like?” Ivy asks, sitting close but distant enough, so no one bumps into her round stomach.
She and Reaper are due to have their baby any day now.
No one knows what they’re having as they’d opted not to find out.
Mainly because Ivy’s still freaked out about becoming a parent, but what she’s gotta get into her head is she’s not alone, and she’s not gonna screw up being a mom.
Reaper ain’t gonna allow her to, and neither will any of us. We’ve all got her back.
Glancing over to my Prez, I smirk, seeing the way he’s glowering at Ivy. “What the fuck do you need to know what he looks like?”
Ivy leans to the side of her chair and tilts her head back to look at Reaper. “Don’t take that tone with me, mister. It’s not like I’m not carrying your child in me. I simply want to know for future reference in case we girls have to send someone out to beat anyone up.”
At this, Sutton outright laughs, and Isabelle giggles softly.
The sound of her voice draws my attention as she tilts her face upward to meet my gaze. My dick twitches at the blush crossing her cheeks.
Fucking hell.
I wanna know what’s on her mind. I hope it’s about me being between her legs, my mouth on her pussy. I couldn’t hold back from getting a taste of her, but I wasn’t gonna fuck her. Not yet. I needed to know she wasn’t hurt worse by that motherfucker.
Which reminds me, I gotta speak with my brothers.
Not just about the reason behind Isabelle’s freshly bruised neck, but the whole fuckin’ situation.
It’s time they all know just how deep the shit she’s been in.
They’ve also gotta know, all of ‘em, that Isabelle’s my woman, and I’m not putting up with the bullshit this motherfucker could try and pull.
I know the fucker’s a dealer and he’s gonna try something thinking he’s got weight in our town. Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t get shit. This area is our territory.
I ignore the girl’s conversation and lean down, pressing my forehead to Isabelle’s. “Don’t go outside or try to leave the clubhouse. I gotta meet with my brothers, then you and I will order a pizza or something. Got me?”
Isabelle nods in response, pulling away slightly.
I straighten and reach out to stroke her cheek gently. Isabelle parts her lips, and the blush on her cheeks deepens.
Moving away from her, I catch my brothers’ eyes locked on me. With a shake of my head, I head for the room we hold church and wait for the rest of them to join in. Reaper’s the last one to step into the room before closing the door behind him.
“Right, what the fucks going on?” he demands, taking his place at the head of the table. His eyes locked on me.
“Went to Isabelle’s apartment to drag her back to the clubhouse. Didn’t care if I had to do it kicking and screaming,” I start and look at Angel. “She shouldn’t have left in the first place.”
“Brother, you have a woman in tears telling you all she wants to do is go home, then you talk to me about that shit,” Angel mutters, narrowing his gaze. “But you’re right. She shouldn’t have gone home. Now what the fuck happened?”
“What happened is I walked into her apartment to find the motherfucker she refused to tell us about nearly strangling her to death,” I answer, my lip curling. “Fucker was on top of her, hands around her throat.”
“Fuck,” Angel snarls, slams his fist on the table, and leans back in his chair.
“You can say that again,” I growl and glance around the table.
“One of you wanna explain to the class what we don’t know but seems you both do?” Reaper’s harsh tone vibrates throughout the room.
I glance around the table and rap my knuckles while meeting each of my brothers’ hard gazes. “Isabelle refuses to tell us what’s going on . . . but I know the guy who beat her is her parents’ dealer.”
“Isabelle, your woman?” Scythe asks calmly, but there’s something in his gaze that doesn’t sit right. He’s sitting forward and bracing his elbows on the table, hands clasped together.
I take in his face briefly, trying to figure out where he’s going with this, and nod. “Yeah, she’s mine.”
“Then I’ll tell you I’ve looked into her.
I’ve done this with each and every one of those women,” he retorts and looks from me to Tombstone, then Reaper.
“No fuckin’ way am I gonna let anymore shit come down on either Sutton or Ivy.
So, in order to do that, I dug into each of the women’s backgrounds, and I know more about them than they’ll ever want me to know. ”
“What do you know?” Angel’s tone changes to one that we all know is deadly.
“Isabelle pays her parents’ drug debt.”
Shit.
“You shitting me?” Reaper sneers curling his lip. “Who the fuck makes their kid pay for them to be high?”
“Prez, far as I know, Isabelle’s been paying that particular bill since she was a teenager. There’s a report of her being at the hospital at sixteen. She claimed to have been in an accident, but notes in the report say she showed signs of being raped.”
My fury grows the more Scythe tells us. It’s all I can do to keep my shit together and continue to listen.
“From all accounts, it looks as if she not only went to school but worked two jobs from the age of fourteen until recently when she started working at Hellfire Dancers.”
“Wait, she was one of our dancers?” Daemon interrupts.
“Yeah, she worked there,” Angel confirms for Scythe.
“Mia said she’d been one of the best dancers we had.
I’ve got a video she sent me when Isabelle first started.
” Angel brings his gaze to mine and smirks.
“Don’t worry. It was before you entered the picture, and she’s still got clothes on.
One thing about Isabelle going on stage, she never took her top off.
According to Mia, the customers like that about her.
End of each dance, she’d turn her back to the crowd, untie the top, and the lights on her darkened. ”
“Better fuckin’ delete that shit, but send it to me first,” I grumble, not liking the fact he’s got a video of Isabelle, and I’ve never seen her dance.
“Right.” Angel smirks.
“Anyways, what you all should know is Dexter, the dealer Hellhound is talking about, has put the word out she’s his property.
He’s the reason she was forced to quit working at our club.
He forced her to do other things for him in his establishments, though I wouldn’t call them businesses.
” Scythe shakes his head before his gaze locks on mine.
“You should know Isabelle’s parents don’t give a shit about her, never have.
But I’m sure they’ll come calling. She’s the reason they’re still alive. ”
“What I want to know is why she’s paid for their habits?” Tombstone mutters.
“Better yet, why didn’t she escape them years ago?” Ghost grunts.
“Right, so, here’s the kicker in this story, brothers. Isabelle isn’t her parents’ daughter,” Scythe says nonchalantly, dropping the information like it were a bomb ready to go off at any time.
“Come again?” I demand, brows creasing in the middle of my forehead. “What do you mean they aren’t her parents?”
“What I mean is, when they took her blood at the hospital, I asked Stella for a sample. Had my cousin, Finnegan, run a DNA test.”
“You went to Finnegan?” Styxx demands, slamming his hand open palm to the table. “What the fuck?”
We all knew who Finnegan was and what he does for a living.
He’s one of the best out there in what he does.
Him and the organization he runs. They’re not men to mess with.
It’s him and his men who taught Scythe to do what he does.
Same with Styxx. That doesn’t mean my brothers are cool with their cousin.
“Yeah, I did cause shit wasn’t adding up,” Scythe defends himself. “And I was fuckin’ right. Isabelle was kidnapped when she was fifteen months old. Her real name is Isabelle Hayes.”
“What the fuck?” Styxx explodes, coming out of his seat. “You tellin’ me that . . .” he points his finger to the door, “sh-she’s our . . .”
“Yeah, brother,” Scythe says coolly, coming out of his own chair. “She’s our little sister. Our baby sister.”
“Fuck,” Styxx roars. He grips either side of his head, tilts his head back, and bellows as he collapses to his knees. The pain radiating off him hits all of us in the gut.
Scythe moves as we all do, but he gets to his twin brother’s side first and starts talking to him soft enough that no one can hear what he’s saying.
My world feels as if it’s spinning on its axis at this revelation.
We all know Scythe and Styxx story. It’s not a pretty one.
The night their parents were brutally killed, they also lost their sister.
No one could find her body, though it was assumed she was dead.
Now come to find out, she’s been in our town this entire time.
Fuck. I feel for my brothers.
I look from Scythe and Styxx to Angel, then back to the twins. They lost their sister years ago and thought they’d never see her again. Now they have her, and she doesn’t even know any of this shit. Isabelle’s world is about to be rocked more than it already has.
Shit.
I don’t even want to think about what this could do to her.
Staring into the dark sky, I watch the stars shimmering. After Scythe’s revelation about Isabelle, Reaper dismissed everyone for the time being. Styxx left with Scythe, Beast, Ghost, and Daemon following him.
I don’t know what’s going through his head, but I’m sure they’ll get him straightened out. We all will.
I blow out a puff of smoke from the joint I lite up and lean against the side of the clubhouse. Isabelle’s sound asleep in my bed, and I needed to be out here. To figure out my own head.
My phone rings in my pocket, keeping me from going deep down the dark road. I pull it out to find it’s Sledge calling me. He’s the Prez of the Black Clover MC. Curious as to what he’s calling me for, I answer. “Yeah?”
“Got a message for you to call Connor,” he says gruffly and hangs up, not waiting for my response.
Fuck me, whatever it is, it has gotta be urgent. Normally Sledge doesn’t hang up.
I find Connor’s phone number and hit the send icon on the screen. Connor answers on the third ring. “I see Sledge didn’t waste time in getting you my message.” He chuckles.
“What, you couldn’t call me yourself?” I snort and lift the joint to my lips.
“I could’ve, but this was more fun.” He laughs, and I can imagine the shit-eating grin he’s got on his face.
“Right, what did you need, Con? I know this isn’t gonna be a social call. Not if you want me calling this time of night.”
“Reason I’m calling is the fact Stella’s got a marriage contract, and if we don’t get her back here and married to him soon, we’re looking at an alliance being broken.”
I clench my teeth and pinch the bridge of my nose. I can’t catch a fucking break. Blowing out a breath, I stare into the shadows. “You expect me to send her back to Ireland and make her go through with a marriage contract?”
“Asher, you know this is what happens in our families,” Connor says, calm yet stern.
“Yeah, I fuckin’ know. But I also know I’m not sending my fuckin’ sister to marry a man who I sure as fuck don’t know.
I’m definitely not gonna let my sister go through any more pain than she already has.
You know what happened before I sent her ass there fifteen years ago.
You think I’ll put her through more? What if it were you in my shoes and it was your sister? ”
Connor’s silent for a moment, most likely thinking about what I’ve said. He’s as protective of his sister as I am of Stella. It doesn’t matter if I talk to her or not. I’m not gonna let anything happen to her. Not now. Not ever again.
“I’ll look into seeing if there’s another way around it. If I can’t, we’re looking at war, Asher, but I get you, and I’ll do what I can for Stella,” Connor says quietly.
“Appreciate it,” I mutter and finish the conversation with him, telling me he’ll check in soon.
Pulling the phone from my ear, I stand and shove the damn thing in my pocket and put out my joint.
With a heavy breath, I head back into the clubhouse and to my room.
I strip out of my clothes and climb into bed, wrap my arms around Isabelle, and breathe in her flowery scent.
I instantly calm and relax in a way the joint didn’t help.
I close my eyes and allow sleep to claim me, at least for a couple of hours.