Biker Salvation: The Lost Souls MC Book NineEllie R. Hunter
Table of Contents
Book Nine in the
Lost Souls MC Series
Ellie R Hunter
Ellie R Hunter
© 2018 Ellie R Hunter
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental.
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Also by Ellie R Hunter
The Grace Porter Series
To Live or To Die
Four Fallen Souls Series
The Lost Souls MC Series
Table of Contents
I’ve never seen a photograph of myself as a baby before and as I look down at the image before me, my head swims in confusion and the photo burns into my skin.
I waited day after day for her to come find me when I was a kid, and now, here she stands, and I don’t want her anywhere near me. It’s taking everything I have not to wrap my hand around her throat and squeeze the life from her.
“Get her out of here,” I order Sparky, tossing the photo at her feet.
“Castiel, please. I have so much I want to say to you…”
I pounce forward and get in her face, wanting to be close enough so she hears every word I have to say.
“There is not a fuckin’ thing you have to say that I want to hear. Leave. Now.”
She’s been nervous since she walked through my office door, she flinches more than she stands steady, but she doesn’t move and holds her resolve to talk to me.
“I’ve been waiting thirty-five years for this moment, I’m not going anywhere,” she says, adamantly.
We end up in a stare-off before I’m the first to back down. I’m not doing this now. I can’t do this now.
“You’ll wait another thirty-five years before I give you the time from my day,” I promise her.
I’m the first to back away as she stands there holding her ground. I’ve never backed down from anything, never been scared or intimidated, until now.
Her absence has been the biggest ghost haunting me and I can’t deal. I circle around the desk and grab the holdall of cash for Hank. I have shit to do, she isn’t going to rock up and start fucking shit up for me.
I make it to the door before I stop and turn to Sparky. The pity he has in his eyes is humiliating me and he needs to cut that shit out.
“I don’t want her here when I get back.”
Then I leave. I can’t make it outside fast enough. My pulse races and my mind’s swimming with too many thoughts to handle at once. Strapping the holdall to my back, I swing my leg over my bike and bring the engine to life. I have shit to do and she isn’t going to get in my way.
I ride past Jackie’s car and blow out of the club and onto the main road. I thrash the throttle and push past the speed limit. The faster I ride, the more I have to concentrate and less time I have to think about the bitch who abandoned me.
I take the turn off to Hank’s place and slow down as I ride up his drive. Owning the diner has paid well for him, he must have over ten acres of land out here. I haven’t been here before, but everyone knows where everyone lives in this town.
The man I’m here to see comes out hearing my bike and he holds himself tall as if he can intimidate me. I turn the engine off and kick out the stand and climb off my bike.
“Sparky said you’d come around, I expected you sooner.”
I ignore his sarcasm and walk up to him, shrugging the holdall off my back.
“I’m here now and we need to talk.”
I do, and he leads us around the house to the back yard. I’ve only ever seen Hank at the diner, and he’s always wearing his old, greasy apron with a hair net on his head. Following him over to what looks like an old barn, he’s wearing beat up jeans and a ripped to hell plaid shirt.
life is a lot different than his work life. Walking into the barn, I take in my surroundings and find Hank is a hoarder.
There are boxes everywhere, piles of books, stacks of old vinyl records. It looks like he hasn’t thrown anything away since the eighties.
“Am I not good enough to be invited into your home, Hank?”
I drop the bag onto a work bench and pull out my cigarettes. I keep my eye on him as I light up and exhale the smoke around us.
“It’s not like that, I don’t want Chrissy on my back, asking questions.”
That sounds plausible, so I nod at the bag and take another drag on my cigarette.
“Our apology for the diner,” I state.
He shows his greed and dives straight in to see what the bag contains. Unzipping it, a low whistle flows from between his lips and his eyes are vibrating as he looks up at me.
“How much is here?”
“Three hundred thousand, more than enough for you to keep your mouth shut. I’m sure you’re cashing in on the insurance as well, this is your bonus.”
A small price to pay to keep Jake off my back about it and finding the link between the diner and the club.
“To be honest, I’ve enjoyed the down time since the fire, it’s been easier knowing this was coming, but it’s making me question if I want to go back to the early mornings and grease.”
I take one last pull on my cigarette before dropping it on the floor and grinding it out under my boot.
“Do what you want with it, it’s yours to rebuild the diner or retire, I really don’t give a shit. All I need is your word you won’t say anything to anyone.”
“You mean, Jake?”
I step closer to him and he loses the smug fucking grin off his face.
“I mean anyone. This cash can disappear, your house, your wife,” I threaten, and carry on, “This cash is a kind gesture from me as an apology because you got caught in a fight that wasn’t yours, but if you disrespect my generosity, I’ll make you wish you hadn’t.”
He gulps and leans away from the bag; the money is not looking so inviting now.
“My mouth is shut.”
“Good,” I say, inhaling deeply as pain dances around my forehead, “I’ll see myself out. Put that somewhere safe and don’t run your mouth off to everyone in town about it.”
He holds his hand out as I’m about to leave and I shake it. I suppose it’s better to leave on good terms.
“See you around, Cas.”
I walk out of the barn and dig my phone out of my pocket. I hit up Sparky’s number and he picks up on the fourth ring.
“Yeah?” he answers.
I find myself unable to speak. I left that whore with him to get rid of, but I’m ridden with fear. It’s the same type of fear I had as a child, the never knowing anything where she is concerned.
I’m afraid she’ll still be there and I’m afraid she is gone. I hate it.
“She’s gone, Cas,” he says, quietly.
I get my answer when I feel relief punch me in the gut. I still can’t speak so I hang up and squeeze the phone in my hand until it feels like I’m going to rip open the skin over my knuckles.
I intended on going home but I ride back to the club and slip by my brothers unnoticed and head into my office.
I can still smell her perfume in the air, something fruity and cheap. It turns my stomach. I light a cigarette just to get rid of it and leave it to burn down in the ashtray. I’d rather be in a room full of harmful smoke than her perfume.
The last thing I need is a reminder of what she smelled like. I sit behind my desk and the first thing I see is my baby photo leaning up against the lamp.
Snatching it up, I ignore the baby and inspect the surroundings around it. The place looks filthy. The mattress is old and dirty, the walls are bare brick and it’s dimly lit. I’ve never seen a photo of what I looked like as a baby before, how pathetic is that? Alannah has boxes full of baby photos and photos documenting her childhood. Even Sparky has a box of photos he received from his father a few years ago.
I don’t have a single shred of physical evidence from my childhood. Flicking the photo over, there is a phone number scrawled across the back.
I pull out my phone and scroll until I find Slade’s number. I hit call and press it to my ear.
It rings out and goes to voicemail, I hang up and call him again. Luckily for him, he picks up my call and my mouth goes dry.
“What’s up, Cas?” he asks.
“I need you to do your thing and get me everything you can find on a Jacqueline Morris.”
“Sure, who is she?”
“It doesn’t matter, just get me the information.”
I hang up and throw the phone on the desk. With one last glance at the photo, I tuck it into my pocket and try to forget everything that’s happened today.
The stars are bright tonight, the moon is full, and I can hear nothing but the soft wind whipping the leaves around on the trees as I sit on the porch.
It’s peaceful out here, nice and quiet so I can think. I couldn’t sleep so I came out before I woke Alannah. This is meant to be my time to enjoy my family and share good times at the club with my brothers, instead, my chest is tight and I’m anxious. I light another cigarette and crush the empty pack, dumping it on the porch.
I’ve felt rage and anger in various forms over the years, but these feelings of emptiness and confusion is something I know I felt as a child and her showing up now, they are all flooding back.
Every time I tried closing my eyes to finally get some fucking sleep, all I could see is her face. I’ve tried to imagine what she looked like all my life, however, my imagination didn’t come close to reality. I don’t know what’s worse, the not knowing her or now knowing what she looks like.
I finish my cigarette, flick the butt across the lawn and head inside. Locking up behind me, I stop at the bottom of the stairs and debate whether to go to bed. I’m tired but I know I won’t fall asleep, not with my mind plagued with the mother I never had. I don’t want to disturb Alannah, so I decide to plot up in the living room. I fall onto the couch and sigh. Why did she have to show up? I put her out of my head a long time ago and I came to terms with not being loved by a mother, or a father, or never having the chance to spend the summer with grandparents like the other kids did. I found my own family and it took me seventeen years to find them and another number of years to fall in love with the woman of my dreams.
The family photo albums catch my eye and my baby photo burns a hole in my back pocket. Alannah has said many times that Leo had my looks when he was born, but I couldn’t see it. He has my eyes, but I could never see anymore. There’s a photo of him when he was a few hours old, I can compare them. Heaving myself off the couch, I scan the albums until I find the one I’m looking for and pull it off the shelf.
Making my way back to the couch, I choose to sit on the floor and lean against it.
I flip through the pages until I find the photo I need and peel back the film, releasing the picture. Letting the album fall on my legs, I dig out my photo and hold the two side by side.
The contrast is staggering, Leo was born in a clean, clinical environment and I was born in dirt.
My photo is old, but I can still make out my features and compare them with Leo. We both have olive toned skin and a mop of black hair, and we’re both wrapped in a blue blanket, that’s it. That’s where the comparisons end.
I shove my photo back in my pocket and put Leo’s back in the album. Getting up, I pull a handful of albums off the shelf and make myself comfortable back on the floor.
I flip through album after album and smile when I realise just how many photos Alannah has taken over the years. Leo’s entire life has been captured on camera and every one of them is precious to me.
My son will be able to look back in years to come and see that he was loved by so many people. His family. He’s pictured with me and Alannah, his aunts a
nd the brothers and their kids. Every photo Alannah is in, she is either cuddling him or smiling adoringly at him. Her motherly love is pure and unquestionable.
The main light flicks on and the brightness burns my eyes. Alannah stands in the doorway.
“It’s three in the morning, babe. What are you doing down here?”
“I couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”
“So, you decided to go down memory lane?” she says, coming to sit beside me.
She’s warm against me and I lose the chill in my bones. She opens one of the albums and stops at a photo of the three of us in the hospital the night Leo was born.
“This one is my favourite,” she murmurs.
There are hundreds of photos to choose from.
“It was the night I finally gave you everything, you held Leo in your arms and I saw something change in you for the better.”
She hands over the photo and I don’t disagree with her. The first time I held my son, I knew he would change me and he did.
“What’s going on, Cas? You only lose sleep when you have something on your mind.”
My wife knows me too well and I love her so much more because she does. In my mind, it proves she really loves me. You don’t waste your time noticing the small things when you don’t care.
“When I was eight or nine years old, I got sent to the principal’s office because I started a fight for no reason. I had a history of anger issues and the school was used to me, but I wasn’t angry that day. I was sad. It was picture day and my foster mother hadn’t done my hair or dressed me in a clean shirt. There wasn’t any point having my picture done because there wasn’t anyone who was going to want it. My foster mother was called in and by the time I returned to class, everyone had their picture done and it was over for another year.”
Alannah rests her head on my shoulder and closes the album on my lap.
“You’re not that little boy anymore, you control every aspect of your life now. Nobody has the power to make you feel like that ever again.”
“You do,” I whisper.
She has the power to undo me and destroy me and I’ve known that for years.