Page 29 of The Scream of Hell


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“A girl, Chance is lost. He doesn't know what to do. They called her Louisa Mae, Mae for Maylene, Clio’s grandmother. She is a tiny little thing, and Chance’s hands swamp her. But she’s a total diva, Louisa Mae yowls and Chance and the rest of the MC jump.” Celt grinned fondly.

“Ah, so she’s the President's Princess and spoiled rotten,” I said, and Celt nodded.

“Long time since we had a baby around the clubhouse. Every brother is fighting for Godfather, although it’s obvious it’s going to be Bear and Drake.” Wow, that was a name from the past.

“Did Rage get clean?”

“Yeah, Drake had the same battles we faced, but both clubs are clear now. He’s married with eighteen on nineteen kids. I lost count.”

“What the fuck!” I exclaimed in horror.

“Drake’s wife adopted a load of children and had several of her own. Phoenix is a sister in Hellfire, not an old lady. Phoe sits at our table and joins church. Phoe is something special, and she took one look at Drake, and Drake nearly killed himself trying to claim her,” Celt explained.

“Wow, Hellfire has a sister. How progressive,” I teased, and Celt nodded.

“You playing or what?” Jesse demanded grumpily, interrupting our sharing moment. I sent a quick glance and saw my boy looked disgruntled. I wondered why. From what I had heard, Jesse and Celt were spending time together. At first, I’d struggled but realised Jesse was fifteen and old enough to make his own decisions. But even so, I was wary.

Jed had approached me about the theory that Celt could have been roofied. Yes, it was possible, but did it happen? The only person who could explain was dead, and I doubted Zeus would be honest. However, the fact remained that Celt had hit me, kicked me, and lost Jesse’s twin. The question was, how to move past that because it was a huge fucking mountain to scale.

That old saying, I can forgive but never forget, never made much sense. Why forgive someone for their actions if you didn’t intend to overlook them? Celt’s activities had haunted me for fifteen years. I’d remember them to the end of my life. It was not a question of could I forgive him; that was bullshit. No, I couldn’t absolve Celt for what he did. For me, it was more could I move past his actions? And if we could, what then?

I felt several gazes on my face as I wheeled myself away to the window for privacy. Hellfire had neatly invaded our lives again, and I’d no doubt why. Chance and his merry band of brothers were looking for any excuse to slam me into court and claim Jesse for themselves. They’d come unstuck because I was a good mother, and no one could say otherwise. On that, I had no self-doubts or angst. Jesse had always been put first, before mine or anyone else’s needs.

But niggles were encroaching on my confidence and self-worth. If Celt had been truly roofied, then I had misjudged him all these years. I could readily admit, I’d never seen Celt act like that before, and his behaviour was totally out of character. So emotions to one side, we had a stable, caring man who suddenly became an enraged beast and then returned to normal. From little comments dropped by Hellfire, Celt never acted out again. Shee had even had a gossipy chat about a woman called Shayla and how she had betrayed Celt. Of course, Shee emphasised how Celt never once raised a hand to her.

Celt’s actions had controlled so much of my life I wondered to what extent I had actually been aware of. The conscious decisions I recognised, but what about when I had acted unconsciously because of something that reminded me of that night? I’d had therapy; I believed that talking shit over can help resolve issues. But I couldn’t pinpoint where subconsciously I had reacted negatively, and that was frustrating.

Even now, I saw the guilt on the faces of Diesel, Chance, Celt, Bone and Wraith. Ken and Jed had explained before I left the hospital that Hellfire moving me had aggravated the spinal cord injury. Because of that, I was paralysed. I also grasped the fact that if they hadn’t moved me, I would have been burned alive. So against a painful death, I’d take paralysis any day. It wouldn’t stop me from creating music and writing lyrics; it couldn’t halt me from using my voice.

I had a T-12 and an L-3 injury to my spinal cord. The L-3 would have left me able to walk with braces and manage a wheelchair myself. The T-12 was the damage that caused the paralysis. Still, luckily for me, I had control of my bowel and urine movements. I’d been graced with some dignity. The neurosurgeon had explained if it had been lower than a T-12, then I’d have had no discipline over my body functions whatsoever. See, there was always at least one silver lining.

I didn’t blame the five involved in my paralysis. Hellfire had saved my life ensured Jesse kept his mother. Hellfire was never simple to understand; I could easily justify them as being present to get access to Jesse. But I know guilt over my injuries played a part, as did Hellfire being protective. And the incessant need to insert themselves into dangerous situations was par the course.

Hellfire had changed from what I’d once known. Drastically changed, there were only three old ladies, which shocked me. Thinking how big Hellfire used to be, they only had a third of their numbers now. From what I could guess, it had been a long and bloody battle to get Hellfire clean, and I bet money bodies had dropped along the way. Hellfire once had been a bustling, heaving club with people constantly coming and going. The old ladies had been larger than life and proper biker chicks. Yet of the three of four women I’d seen the other day, they weren’t what someone called biker chicks.

I discounted the one who’d worn a Hellfire cut. That must have been Phoenix. Tati was instantly recognisable with her naturally huge bust and blown-out hair. The other, who had a belly ready to pop, was clearly Chance’s wife. She had dressed in a loose tee and sweats. No old lady I’d known would have been caught dead in such casual clothing. The woman next to her, who looked like her twin, was fashionably covered and not in a biker sense of fashion.

Shee had explained that Chance and Bear’s wives were quintuplets who’d all been separated at birth. The two pairs of women were identical twins, and the brother appeared an excellent mixture of both sets. Chance had married Clio first and knocked her up while Thalia arrived looking for Clio and crossed swords with Bear. Thalia, Shee exclaimed, had made several erroneous judgements about Hellfire and ended up sacrificing herself to protect her brother Rain.

I’d discovered that Thalia had been tortured, sliced and diced, and lost a finger. She’d been left for dead by a crazed psychopath who Bear took apart with his bare hands. Shee explained Hellfire had been frantic to find Thalia once they realised she’d genuinely been kidnapped. They’d found the other siblings by then, and they went hunting for her. I commented to Shee that it seemed Hellfire relationships all had a touch of drama to them, and Shee rolled his eyes knowingly at me.

So Hellfire had changed and changed beyond belief. Shee insisted they were clean, no more drugs, arms shipments, no more running pussy or extortion rackets. Hellfire built their cars and made a fortune, although Shee mentioned Chance had upset half the club when he’d announced something about utilising their skills. But Shee had been happy when those plans had fallen by the roadside because of Clio’s pregnancy.

Knowing all this left me with one question, I stated I didn’t believe in forgive and forget. I had to decide if I could move past everything that had happened, and considering the evidence, Hellfire had got clean. Was it worth extending the olive branch? Should I be the one to extend it, and why me? Then again, why shouldn’t it be me? Hellfire was here, making their amends for my injuries, even though it wasn’t necessary. Was it possible to reach out a hand to Celt?

Chapter Seven.

Celt entered the inner sanctum and sat. He was shattered from late nights and early mornings, but Celt would not leave Jesse safety in someone else’s hands. Celt slumped into a chair and gazed blearily at Chance, who sent him a half-awake look back.

“Louisa Mae keeping you up?” Celt grunted.

“The kid’s the spawn of Satan. The moment Clio lies down, Louisa wakes up. Clio’s at her wit’s end with Louisa, so I took over last night. Little shit had me up six times, and each time I picked Louisa up, the kid stopped wailing and babbled happily,” Chance glowered. Celt smothered an inappropriate grin. Louisa Mae had Chance wrapped around her finger, and she was just a week old. Celt would hate to see the girl when she’s thirteen and boy crazy. Louisa will be locked in a nunnery by Chance.

“Can’t one of the ladies try to help?” Celt suggested.

“Clio tried that three days ago with Thalia. Louisa Mae knew Thalia wasn’t her mother and went ballistic. Louisa frightened Thalia so much that the woman called 911,” Chance retorted as Celt’s mouth dropped open. How had he missed this?

“Damn,” Celt grunted. Chance scowled again.

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