Page 7 of Scarred Sacrifice (Savage Sisters MC #1)

CHAPTER FOUR

MORRIGAN

We arrive at the bar, and when I see the line of bikes outside, it has me pining for my own. “She will be here in five minutes,” Eden states from behind me.

We walk in, and the loud music and deep rumbling of bikers talking invades our ears.

“Hey, look what the cat dragged in!” Raven greets us as she spots us. She walks around from behind the bar and pulls me into her arms. “Just as beautiful as your mom.” She grins.

“How are you? How’s the family?” I ask.

“Oh, we are all good. You know how club life can be.” She shrugs. “Go and take a seat out the back. Who am I sending to you?” she asks. Eden quickly loads a picture of Isabella on her phone and shows it to Raven. She nods. “Got it. I will bring your drinks over,” she adds.

“Tequilas all around, please, Raven!” Eden hollers over her shoulder.

“You got it!” Raven laughs.

As we walk through the bar, I spot a few familiar faces as we weave through the tables. My eyes lock on a pair of cold blue eyes, and my lips twitch up at the corners. He stands, waiting for me to approach.

I stop just in front of him and look up. “Fancy seeing you here,” I state mockingly.

He grins. “Good to see you, darlin’,” he drawls.

I cross my arms over my chest. “How’s your wife?” I ask.

His grin deepens. “Ask her yourself.” He gestures to the jukebox on the other side of the bar. He places two fingers in his mouth and whistles to get her attention. Her head snaps up, and she looks over in his direction, but as her eyes land on mine, she squeals excitedly and runs over.

“Morrigan!” she greets me before pulling me into a tight hug. “Fuck, it’s been a long time.”

“Good to see you, Rose,” I reply fondly as he pulls her into his side, holding her possessively close, like I’m going to steal her away. “Seriously, I’m not about to steal her from you. Calm down.” I tut.

Rose rolls her eyes. “Rip here is worse than a fucking dog marking his territory.”

“Just reminding everyone who you belong to,” he growls.

“You know everyone in the bar. I am wearing a cut with it stamped on it that I’m yours, and I have a ring on my finger,” Rose counters, folding her arms across her chest.

Rip smirks, firmly grabbing the back of her neck and pulling her flush against him. He leans in and whispers something in her ear, making her eyes glint with excitement before leaning back, still keeping her close to him.

“Who are you meeting?” he asks, completely changing the subject. I exhale a little cough and clear my throat.

“Not giving you a name,” I state firmly.

He lifts his chin slightly in a nod. “If you need anything, you know where to find us,” he adds.

I give him a nod back. “Appreciated, thanks.”

“Don’t leave it so long next time. I like to hang out with badass women. It keeps him on his toes,” Rose says with a smirk.

“I don’t think you need any help from me keeping him on his toes,” I point out.

Rose grins proudly at that. “You may have a point,” she adds.

I laugh, giving her shoulder a squeeze before walking to the table at the back where Eden and Betsy are sitting, waiting for me.

I take a seat next to Betsy, noting the way she is fidgeting awkwardly, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. I nudge her with my shoulder. “Relax. You couldn’t be in a safer place,” I remind her.

“I know. Well, I know you wouldn’t bring me to a place that wouldn’t be safe, and I know that, as we have been here before. It’s just...” She pauses, looking at me. “People,” she states, arching her brow.

My lips tip up into a smile. “People,” I echo back.

She gives me a brief nod. “Lots of people,” she adds, bouncing her leg up and down anxiously.

“As soon as the meeting is over, we will be heading straight back to the sanctuary,” Eden adds, trying her best to reassure Betsy.

I nod in agreement, but as I look across the bar, someone catches my eye. A woman with her hood pulled up, trying to conceal her face. “Ladies, the bogey has landed,” I mutter.

Eden and Betsy follow my line of sight. “Yeah, that’s her,” Eden confirms.

We watch as Raven points her over to our table.

She looks across the bar, and when she sees us, she nods her thanks, then makes her way across to us, stopping at the edge of our table.

We don’t get up. I’m not about to make her feel comfortable and welcome because, as far as I’m concerned, she has to convince me that she’s worthy of our help.

“Er, hi. Do you mind if I sit?” she asks, her voice delicate and articulate, making it obvious she comes from a privileged life.

Eden gestures to the chair in front of her, and she gives us a soft smile before sitting down.

She then pushes her hood back, revealing her golden blonde hair and pale skin, and her lips are pale pink.

She looks like a perfect angel, the perfect daughter.

She swallows anxiously while clutching the crucifix on her necklace.

I arch a brow. “I’m not sure what he can do right now,” I state firmly. Her round blue eyes land on mine, and her cheeks heat a little as she gives me a small smile.

Raven approaches the table with a tray of shot glasses and a bottle of tequila. “Here you go, ladies. This should keep you refreshed.” She winks, smiling.

Eden grabs the bottle and starts pouring. “Thanks, Raven, you’re the best,” she yells after her.

Isabelle shifts awkwardly and releases her hold on her necklace, placing her hand in her lap. “I guess you’re right. It’s just that I’ve always found comfort in thinking he’s there.” She shrugs.

I lean back in my chair, my eyes assessing her as I tap my fingers on the table.

“You expect me, us, to believe that Isabella Sparks, the daughter of the billionaire and all-round fucking cunt, Henry Sparks, is a church-going, God-loving Christian?” I scoff.

I shake my head. “Nah, that may be the image you and your father want to portray to the press and to the world, but behind closed doors, when the cameras aren’t flashing, I bet you are just as dark and fucked up as your father,” I accuse.

Her eyes go wide as she shakes her head back and forth. “No, no. This is me. My entire life I was brought up to attend church. I went to an all-girls Christian boarding school. You have to believe this is me,” she states, her voice breaking and her eyes pleading with me to believe her.

Eden nudges me with her elbow. “She’s telling the truth,” she mutters, holding up her phone to show me the background check she had done on her. “Here, drink this. It will help,” Eden adds as she hands her a shot of tequila.

My gaze flickers back to Isabella. “Start talking about why you reached out. Why do you want our help?” I ask firmly.

She nods, not touching the drink as she wipes away the few tears she had allowed to fall. She clears her throat. “Last month, I returned early from my volunteer work overseas.” She pauses. “The war was getting worse, and it was getting too dangerous for me to be over there.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re a modern-day Mother Teresa, aren’t ya?” I quip.

She shrugs, giving me a small smile. “I just do what I can,” she adds.

“When I returned home there were cars everywhere. I assumed Father was throwing one of his charity balls. I didn’t want to disturb him.

” She pauses. “I entered the house through the servants’ quarters.

” I snort out a huff at that statement. Her eyes snap to mine.

Ignoring me, she continues. “Anyway, I made my way through the kitchen, expecting there to be food ready for whatever event my father was throwing, but it was empty. Not a single chef or member of staff was there. It was extremely odd. I made my way through the house, about to take myself upstairs to bed, when I heard an auctioneer calling out numbers. Curious as to what charity the event was in aid of, I decided to have a peek through the gap in the doors.” She pauses, looking down at her hands, but when she looks back up, her eyes are full of horror and fear.

“There were women and girls up on the stage. They looked pale, thin, and unwell. Like they were drugged. They had a large cuff around their necks with a chain hanging off them. They had nothing on. Completely naked,” she chokes, her voice breaking.

“The room was full of men—men that are my father’s friends and business associates.

My father was sitting at a table at the front, laughing and drinking like it was a normal party.

” She sniffs. “One girl didn’t look more than sixteen,” she adds.

“What did you do? Did you confront him?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I ran up the stairs as fast as I could and locked myself in there until the next day. When I saw my father in the morning, he asked me what time I came home and if I saw the auction.” She swallows.

“The way he asked me, it wasn’t in his normal tone.

I knew if I had told him what I really saw, then he would…

Well, I don’t know what he would do. All I know is he scared me.

He still scares me. I know he has had his men follow me.

I think he’s tapped my phone. It’s like I can’t breathe.

I feel like I’m going out of my mind that I am always being watched. ”

“If you are being watched, then how in the fuck did you manage to meet us here?” I cut in. My eyes quickly dart around the bar to make sure there isn’t anyone I don’t recognise.

“I drove to the mall, went to my favourite clothes shop, and changed my outfit in the changing room to this before jumping in a taxi here,” she states.

Eden nods. “Smart move.”

“It’s smart for all of thirty minutes. Now it’s late, the mall is closed, and according to your dad’s security, you are still in that damn dressing room. So, what will you say when you go back?” I point out.

She looks awkwardly at each of us. “Well, I thought I’d stay with you. I don’t want to go back,” she says with a pleading look.

I turn my glare to Eden.

“Er, we didn’t discuss this. You asked for a meeting. Offering to help us with what we need, and in return we would help you,” Eden confirms.

“Right. I need somewhere to stay, and in return I will tell you everything you need to know to stop my father,” Isabella affirms.

I arch my brow at Eden. “I think maybe you should have been a little clearer on what our help would be,” I say through gritted teeth.

Having Isabella stay with us opens us up to attacks.

It means trusting her and effectively allowing a stranger into our home.

I turn my attention back to Isabella. “Here’s the thing: we help women that need our help.

We help relocate them to safety, generally from an abusive home.

” I pause. “They come to us desperate. They need our services.” I pause.

“Letting the likes of you into our sanctuary is dangerous, not only for us, but for everyone else we help.”

“The likes of me?” she retorts, raising her eyebrow.

“Yes, the likes of you. Someone with money, with power at her fingertips. Someone who is a fucking liability,” I snap.

“Hey, easy,” Eden cuts in before leaning closer to her.

“Isabella, you did not state you were on the run to us, and for us to hide you, you can understand our concerns. We’ve known about your father for a long time now.

He has heard of us and what we do, but he doesn’t know who we are or where we are based, and we want to keep it that way.

You have given us no reason for us to trust what you are saying,” Eden states firmly.

“You give us something, anything to go on to prove to us that you mean what you say,” I add.

Isabella looks at each of us. “You want money? I can get you money,” she states frantically.

I snort out a laugh and shake my head. “We don’t want your dirty money.”

She opens and closes her mouth as if to argue before she nibbles on her bottom lip, clearing her throat. “There is a meeting later tonight. I don’t know what it’s for. I just saw it written in my father’s organiser. He had it left open on the kitchen island,” she states.

“We are going to need more than that. Your dad is a businessman. I’m sure he has many meetings every day. Why would this one be of interest to us?” Eden asks.

“Because this meeting is at midnight, and it’s down at the docks,” she points out.

I give Eden a side glance. We know why he would be having a meeting down at the docks. We’ve tried many times to catch him with one of his shipments down there, but every time he either isn’t there, or we have the wrong day or time.

Betsy taps away on her tablet. “There is a freight ship scheduled to depart at one am. Whatever your father’s meeting is, he’s shipping something out,” Betsy says, turning her tablet around for us to see.

I look down at my watch. “We only have three hours. That isn’t enough time to plan or prepare for anything,” I point out.

“So, let’s make it an observation mission, then?” Eden states. “We’ve got intel, and it also proves whether Isabella is telling the truth.”

I mull it over for a while before nodding in agreement. “Fine. We got a hood?” I ask.

“One in the van,” Betsy nods.

“A hood?” Isabella asks.

I nod. “We do this; it doesn’t mean I trust you. You are to wear a black hood so you can’t see where we are going. Only once we are inside will I remove it.”

“But,” Isabella tries to protest.

I hold up my palm, halting her. “You are to stay at the sanctuary until we decide when you can be trusted. You are not to leave, and if you do, you will be made to wear the hood. Under no circumstances are you to go anywhere you are not permitted,” I state, laying out the ground rules.

“Understand? Because if you don’t, we will part ways right now. ”

Isabella nods in agreement. “I will do whatever you need me to do. Just please don’t let me go back there. I can’t live that life after seeing what I saw,” she states, shaking her head back and forth.

Something tells me she’s holding something back.

Her eyes are too haunted to have only seen an auction.

Unless I’m wrong and she’s just lived in a privileged bubble her entire life.

However, I find that hard to believe if she’s gone volunteering around the world in war-torn countries.

Maybe she will tell us in time, because clearly it isn’t just me with trust issues.