His Father's Son_Sons of Lost Souls MC Book 1Ellie R. Hunter
HIS FATHER’S SON
SONS OF LOST SOUL MC BOOK ONE
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.
Cover Design by
Also by Ellie R Hunter
The first time I saw how heartless my dad could be, was the day we buried his mom, my grandma.
I was twelve years old and she was barely over sixty when she died from a heart attack, as she was chasing Luca and I around her yard. It was a rare occurrence when dad let us stay over at hers and I never understood why, not until I was old enough to listen to his story. She abandoned him the same day she gave birth to him, and he spent his childhood in the foster system until he was taken in as a prospect at the club when my great uncle was the president.
He didn’t shed one tear for her. He didn’t entertain the grieving process at all. Even my mom, who cries over dead people on the regular didn’t cry for her.
Luca was only five years old and didn’t understand fully what was going on. I felt like I was the only one who loved her and would miss her being in our lives. She was my grandma, my only grandparent, and I believed no one cared, yet, in a strange flip of emotions, it was also the first time I wanted to be like my dad, although I missed her like mad, I wanted to show him I could be strong like him. I stood beside him at her grave and choked down the tears and kept my head held high. My heart was beating too hard and it was hurting bad, but I held it together and when my dad rested his hand on my shoulder and nodded down at me, I felt his acceptance travel from where his hand laid on my shoulder all the way down to my toes. I didn’t know it at the time, or maybe I did, and I didn’t understand, but I had my dad’s acceptance always.
It wasn’t until later that night, when I was alone in my bedroom that I heard my dad cry in his room that I truly understood his position.
He told me once, ‘What everyone sees isn’t necessarily what is true.’ He wasn’t heartless. It’s what he chose to show people, and he chose to grieve in private.
In the darkness of my room, curled under my blanket, I cried all the tears I had held in, like my dad, I kept my grief for private, and I showed everyone I was strong.
In the following days after the funeral, I kept a close eye on my dad. I never would’ve known he grieved for his mom if I hadn’t have heard him. He smiled, he laughed, he carried on as normal.
He was the strongest man I knew.
He was the president of the Lost Souls motorcycle club.
He was good to my mom.
He was ruthless, and he was fair.
All I kept hearing was how I was so much like him.
I was proud to hear it every time.
I am my father’s son, and I wouldn’t change me for the world.
My boots pound the shiny sterile floor. My legs carry me through corridor after corridor and I’m about to lose my mind when I turn the last corner and I see Sparky holding my mom.
Slade and Zach are sat on the chairs lined against the wall and Sparky still has his arms around my mother. Ricky comes up from behind me, his hands gripping the chair handles as he pushes Pope in his chair.
I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much right now. Sparky is one of my mom’s best friends, she’s known him since she was six years old or something. A fucking long time anyway. When dad isn’t around, she always goes to Sparky. He’s who I go to when dad isn’t about.
I push that shit out of my head and come to a stop before my mom. She pulls away from him and takes hold of my hand. Frowning, I wait anxiously for her to speak. It was Zach who called and said I had to get my ass here, he isn’t one for talking a lot so after telling me my dad was hit on a run and he was in hospital, he hung up on me.
I’d kick his ass for it, but we’re evenly matched and he can be a vicious fucker, and apparently, I’m not allowed to shoot him. Again.
Most of us have been able to shoot a gun from an early age. JJ and I both got a Glock 19 from Pope when we were sixteen for Christmas. He was always giving us shit like that and showing us how to defend ourselves if needed.
Zach was being a dick and we decided to play a game. Whoever locked and loaded the fastest got to shoot. The only rule was that we couldn’t actually shoot the other. We had to do it so close it felt like you had been shot.
He’s had his head stuck up his ass big time over the last couple of years, but even before then, he was a dick and thought he was better than us.
I may or may not have nicked him on the arm on purpose. Honestly, the mom’s reacted worse than he did. I shot him in the arm, on purpose, and we still didn’t get a reaction from him. Dad dragged out the truth from me and made me give my word I wouldn’t do it again. Which is lucky for him. I don’t know what it is about him, I just want to shoot him.
“What’s happened? Zach said fuck all on the phone,” I grunt, throwing him a glare, which he ignores and closes his eyes.
“Your dad was shot, it was in and out, straight through. We thought it wasn’t too bad and he’d make it till we got back to Willows Peak, but he started bleeding out heavily and we brought him here.”
I listen to Sparks, but I keep my eyes on my mom. Her eyes are bloodshot red, and tear tracks stain her cheeks.
“Why didn’t you call me?” I ask, wanting to hear it from her.
Zach is a brother, but he is an asshole of epic proportion.
“My phone is at home, I left the house in a rush,” she says.
She squeezes my hands and I pull her in for a hug. Keeping my head close to hers, I whisper, “Is he going to die?”
“No one is telling us anything,” she whispers back.
I release her, and Ricky stands, giving up his seat for her. I guide her across the corridor and down onto the chair. She won�
�t need Sparky’s support if she’s off her feet.
“Where’s Luca?” Is my next question, not seeing him here.
“Dex is out looking for him, he isn’t picking up our calls,” Slade answers.
Sounds like my brother.
My blood brother.
Okay, next question.
“Who the fuck shot my dad?” I look around the brothers I have known my entire life and end on Sparky, who is my father’s Vice President and always close by. I wait for him to answer me.
He physically pales, and his gaze drops to the floor. He can barely look at me, yet, he could be close to my mom. How does that make sense?
“We don’t know, we stopped off for gas a few hours out. Your dad was waiting out front while we were all paying and getting something to eat when we heard the shots. By the time we got outside, no one was in sight and your dad was on the ground. He didn’t see who it was either.”
“Do you think he was targeted?”
“We really can’t guess, none of us saw anything,” Slade says.
Some fucker shot my dad, and no one knows who the fuck it was? This doesn’t happen.
I notice Zach has blood on his hands, and my feet are carrying me before him before I make the decision to move.
“Are you keeping my dad’s blood as a fucking souvenir?” I snap.
Why the fuck hasn’t he washed them yet? Sick fuck.
Slade is on his feet before Zach pulls himself up in his own time and stands between us.
“If it wasn’t for Zach, Cas would be dead now, so a little respect wouldn’t hurt, Leo.”
Respect for Zach?
I don’t fucking think so.
I don’t know why he sticks around, it isn’t even if he likes his mom or dad, and Slade and Kristen have done everything for him.
“It’s not like he would’ve done it off his own back, the patch says he has to, nothing more, nothing less. Fuck your respect.”
I turn my back on the lot of them and walk up the corridor to the next set of chairs lining the wall. My hands shake as I rest my head in my palms and slide them into my hair. Pulling at the grown-out strands does nothing to relieve the building sickness at the thought of not seeing my dad again.
It isn’t long before my mom sits on the chair beside me. She looks back to the brothers and then slowly nods her head.
“Your dad is one of the strongest men I know, he’ll pull through this,” she tells me, but I think she’s telling herself more.
“No one is stronger than a bullet, mom,” I remind her.
“Do you not know your father at all? Do you think he’s brave enough to leave me in this world alone, to leave you and Luca without a father? He’s made it through far worse than this before.”
“He might not have a choice, if the doctors can’t save him, and he doesn’t fight, then we’ll lose him.”
If she thinks love will save my dad, she’s too far gone caught up in the idea of romance. While my dad treats her like his queen, and she loves him like her king, this isn’t a fairy-tale.
“If we lose him, you’ll have to step up,” she says quietly, leaning in closer, “Sparky is your dad’s VP, but as his son, you’re the one who will take the gavel…if it should become available.”
“Jesus, mom. He ain’t fucking dead,” I grunt, rising to my feet.
She follows me up and stops me from pacing.
“You’ve always known you’ll take the gavel one day, I don’t want anything to happen to him anymore than you do, but if the worst does happen, you’ll be president and you’ll wear your dad’s patch, and you’ll wear it with fucking pride, are you hearing me?”
“I hear you, mom.”
I do know this; my dad has told me this all my life. According to my mom, he would tell me how to run the club while I was still in her womb. Other kids got bedtime stories, I got lessons on club life.
We’ve all heard the tales of blood and death back in the day, how they lost brothers and had to fight for the club. However, we’ve never seen it for ourselves, the violence has been something us younger brothers haven’t had to deal with. Now my dad has been shot, I can feel the violence building inside me. The urge to hunt down the shooter like prey is overriding every rational part of me, I was born with it, all I have to do is follow my gut.
The stranger’s voice has me breaking away from the murderous thoughts and I look up to find a doctor standing before us. I stand with my mom, and hear the brothers coming up behind us.
“How is he? Is he okay?”
“Your husband lost quite a lot of blood, we managed to stabilise him and he’s in recovery. If you wait a moment, a nurse will be along to take you to him.”
The doctor doesn’t hang around and Sparky walks around us and smiles down at mom.
“See, Barbs, nothing can take him out. He’ll be home in no time.”
A nurse pushes through the door and mom doesn’t have time to answer him.
“Only two at a time.”
Mom turns to Sparks and says, “When someone finds Luca, get him here.”
He nods, and the nurse leads us to my dad. Every hall looks the same, but I don’t have the same sick feeling I had when I first got here.
He said my dad was going to be okay, so there’s nothing to worry about now. The nurse’s ass sways swiftly from side to side and I follow it all the way to my dad’s room.
Mom whacks me on the back of my head and tuts as she enters the room.
“It’s not the time or place, Leo.”
Rolling my eyes, I stand at the bottom of dad’s bed and look down on the old man. He’s not as young as he used to be, but age isn’t dragging him down. However, it reminds me that one day he could get hurt and not bounce back.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve sat by his side in a hospital,” mom murmurs, taking the sight of him hooked up to machines in.
“Whoever did this is going to pay with their life,” she adds.
This is the first time I’m really seeing my parents. I’ve always known who they were, they were the parents who I looked up to. They weren’t like all the other parents in town, and around the club, they were the ultimate team. Now, my dad looks fragile and mom is out for blood.
“They’re going to learn what pain really is,” she scorns.
Gone is my mom who is caring and tender, she’s now pissed and out for vengeance.
Dad’s eyes begin to flutter open and I walk around the bed to be by his side.
“It’s okay, Cas. You’re in the hospital,” mom soothes him as he comes around.
“Some fucker…fucking shot me,” he croaks out, his throat dry and hoarse.
“I know, he didn’t take you out though,” she manages to smile for him.
“How bad is it?”
“Through and through, the doc said you’d be fine.”
His head rolls to the side and he looks at me.
“Where’s your brother?”
“He’s at home, waiting on word about you,” I lie.
The last thing he needs is to hear no one knows where he is. Mom surprises me when she keeps her mouth shut and doesn’t pull me and tell him the truth.
“Go and get him, take him to the club. Until we know what the fuck happened, I want you both staying at the clubhouse.”
“Yes, Leo, go and get your brother.”
It shocks me when dad doesn’t hear the double-edged tone in her voice and I get out of there before he catches on.
The last thing I want to be doing is searching for my brother. I head for the house I grew up in, and it sits in darkness. Luca’s room is at the back of the house, many times he’s been here sitting in his room with his music playing, completely unaware our parents are looking for him.
And as I suspected, he’s lying on his bed with his earphones on. The music is so loud, I can hear it buzzing in the stillness of the house.
I grab the old toy figure from his she
lf by the door and throw it at him. It lands on his stomach and he bolts up, ready to fight.
Shaking my head in disbelief, I step into his room and sit on the chair by his desk.
“Fuck off, Leo,” he grumbles.
Everyone says I’m a lot like my dad, looks and personality, but apart from the dark hair and olive toned skin, I don’t see it. Whereas Luca is the spit of dad. I’ve got more of mom than Luca does, but together, we are our parents.
“I wouldn’t be here if you answered your phone. Are you intentionally ignoring everyone?”
“No, I’m waiting on a call.”
“None of your business.”
“Well, if you had answered, you’d know that dad has been shot and he’s in hospital,” I spit out, losing my patience with him.
This gets his attention and he no longer looks like he wants to fight me.
“He’s doing okay now, he was in surgery and now he’s resting. The Doc said he will be okay. He wants us staying at the club tonight until he knows what’s going on.”
“I can’t, I have to…”
“What? What’s more than important than being safe at the club after our father has been shot?”
Sighing, he looks at his phone and rattles off a message, fuck knows who to.
“Pack your shit and don’t take all night, I want to be leaving in five minutes.”
I stand, and head for the door.
“Are they sure he’s going to be okay?”
“Yeah, little brother.”
I really fucking hope so.