Page 3 of Stone

I scraped a hand down my face. “And now he’s down the Cell pissin’ blood.”

Colt held up his hands jokingly. “Meh, he can handle it. You’re not that fuckin’ tough. I’m more concerned about his cover being blown. At least with his face all fucked up, he can go back to the mayor and say he escaped the clubhouse after you fuckers tortured him for intel. You’ve been pullin’ vehicles over for months now, so that could explain how you captured him and got hold of Elise. He’s just gotta be uber fuckin’ convincing about it.”

I brought a hand up to rub my beard, a habit that helped me think.

Coming home, after being captured and tortured, to discover Elise recently married and nowhere to be found started a chain of events that I lived with to that day. The town gossips took great pleasure in telling me how she was told I was killed in action and that she had married Robert Henderson weeks later.

The way my chest cracked open was a pain I’d never been able to forget. The thought of going home to Elise was what kept me alive when I was captured. When I finally made it back to Hambleton, I wished they’d killed me because there wasn’t a life for me without her.

I went out to drink my sorrows away and met Adele. I got her pregnant the first night I met her. She came to me weeks later and told me I’d knocked her up. I did the right thing because I wanted kids so badly, and I needed something to keep me grounded, something that would love me unconditionally. I married Dell because why not? My girl had left me, and Adele gave me a semblance of a life back, and for a while, I was content. One kid turned into two, then three. She wanted a girl, so we tried and got Freya.

It all came so easy for me, except it was with the wrong woman, and after a while, my soul couldn’t stand it. I’d always been honest with Adele and told her about Elise on the night wemet. She always knew, but I think she hoped that what she gave me would be enough, and it was, for a while.

But ultimately, the heart wants what the heart wants.

Over the years, I’d discovered Elise had been manipulated into marrying Henderson, but it didn’t make a difference. She should’ve had more faith in me. Still, what was done couldn’t be undone, and her betrayal ate me up for a long time.

Now, Colt had shone a light on the situation from a different angle, and with the existence of Sophie, I realized there was a lot more to the story than I knew. Questions had swirled through my mind for the two days I’d sat and watched over Elise, willing her to wake up and tell me what the fuck was going on. I needed her to explain about Sophie and how she even existed, and I needed to know if she was mine, and, if she was, why Elise had given her up without giving me a goddamned clue?

Luckily, I wouldn’t have to wait long to find out.

The following day, I was still in that damned chair, watching and waiting.

My first indication that Elise was about to wake up came from her breathing. It became more shallow, choppier, as if her mind was stirring and recalling the beating that had knocked her unconscious.

Elise was a beautiful woman, even though her alabaster smooth skin was covered in cuts and bruises. Her blonde hair was thick and styled to show off the angle of her cheekbones and the full lips that used to curve into a dazzling smile every time our eyes caught. She didn’t look a day over thirty-five, despite being in her early fifties. Even battered and bruised, her light shone through.

I knew this would affect her, and she’d need time to get over being abused. Elise was sensitive to her core and felt everything tenfold. This would play on her mind for a long time, though it went without saying I’d help her through it. We all would.

But first, I needed answers.

Elise’s long fingers suddenly twitched, and she let out a low moan.

Within a second, I was there, sitting on the bed and reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand.

“It’s okay, Leesy,” I murmured, gently lifting the back of her head and guiding the straw into her mouth. “You’re safe. I’ve gotcha.”

Her eyelids fluttered as she took a small sip of water and swallowed, before croaking, “Is this a dream?”

“No, Leesy,” I replied gently. “It’s no dream. You’re at the clubhouse. Your husband hurt ya.”

After a slight pause, she visibly winced. “I remember. How bad is it?”

“You’ll be okay,” I assured her. “Henderson gave you a concussion and dislocated your shoulder. Cracked a couple’a ribs, too.”

Elise’s head fell back on the pillow. “Brett. Where is he?”

“We’ve got him here,” I assured her. “We’re tryin’ to work out the best way forward for everyone.”

“He’s not who you think, Johnny,” she whispered, tone thick with desperation. “Please don’t hurt him.” Her hand reached blindly for mine and squeezed.

“We know everythin’,” I replied flatly, threading our fingers together. “Colt’s here. He told us everything. Why didn’t you say anythin’, Leesy? All these years, I could’ve helped.”

Her eyes slowly opened, and she leveled me with a look. “What could you have done?”

“I could’ve looked out for ya.” I nodded toward her face. “Maybe we could’ve avoided this.”

One eyebrow cocked. “You think this is an isolated incident?” She gave a brittle laugh. “This is a regular Tuesday.”

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