Golden Atonement - Chapter 64

Chapter Thirty

Reaper

Leaving my wife with Illyria, Maxim and I headed back to Vladmir’s cabin. Neither one of us saying a word. There wasn’t anything to say. We were in the dark, just like everyone else until we knew more. The problem I was having was that we were being spoon fed information, and it was starting to piss me off.

Leaning against the cabin wall, I fumed. “Something ain’t right here, Fedorov.”

“I agree,” Maxim replied when we both heard Aksana scream. Hanging his head, Fedorov added, “He’s going to hate himself for what he just did.”

Pushing off the wall of the cabin, I added, “He did what needed to be done.”

Already knowing how Vladmir extracted the information, I refused to comment more. This life wasn’t easy by any means. When it came to those we cared about, any of us would use whatever means we had at our disposal to get what we wanted, even our bodies. While I agreed, Vladmir went straight for the jugular. He did what needed to be done. Now it was time to see if it paid off.

“At what cost?” Fedorov challenged as Vladmir stormed out the back door and into the surrounding forest. Entering the cabin, we had just sat down when the bedroom door opened and out rushed a barely clothed Aksana.

“Get dressed, Aksana.” Maxim glared. “We need to talk.”

I had to give it to the woman. She held her own. She answered every question that Maxim and I threw at her. She never wavered and even gave us a few more missing pieces. The problem was, neither one of us was any closer to the truth than before we questioned the woman.

However, a big piece of the puzzle was the Oracle.

A man named Kyle Krueger.

I fucking knew that name sounded familiar because after we left the cabin, I sent off a quick text to Phantom, asking if she knew this Oracle.

I got an immediate phone call.

“What the hell do you want with Kevin?”

Now that got my attention. Scribe clearly said in church that he acquired the information on Vladmir from his friend, Kyle, who also went by the name Oracle. Aksana confirmed that, adding that there were two.

“Tell me everything you know about Kevin and Kyle. Now.”

“They are brothers. They live on the deep web. They are basically guns for hire or in their case, information for a price. They can find anything or anyone. They live and breathe the dark web.”

“How good are we talking?”

“Makes Sypher look like a newbie. Remember when I was trying to break into that thumb drive Kitty gave me? It was around the time shit was kicking off with the Society and none of us knew who to trust? Well, I called Kevin. I did him a solid a long time back. When I mentioned St. James’ name, the fucker clammed up fucking tight, Reaper. Told me flat-out to not trust the motherfucker and get the hell out of dodge. He knew that St. James was dirty and we were walking into a trap.”

“What else?”

“I know the brothers had a falling out several years ago. Don’t know if they ever made up, but talk on the web is that one of the brothers has taken a contract with someone big. And before you ask, no I don’t know which one or who the contract is with. All I know is that both brothers use the call sign Oracle.”

“Reach out to your friend. Find out if he’s a friend or foe. Get what you can out of him, Phantom. The faster the better.”

“Sure thing, but, Reaper, you should also know that Sypher got an alert. You were right. The FEDs aren’t fucking around this time. The warrants have been issued.”

“How long?”

“My guess. A day or two.”

“Who signed off on them?”

“That’s where shit gets interesting. Reed Scott. How do you want to play this?”

“We stick to the plan. As soon as your old man gets home, bring him and the others up to speed and, for the love of fucking God, make sure he fucking plays along until the coast is clear.”

Phantom chuckled. “Will do.”

“How long will you and the others need?”

“Give us two weeks before you send in the cavalry.”

“They will be waiting and ready,” I said before disconnecting the call as I immediately received an incoming text.

Unknown Sender: We need to talk.

Me: Who the fuck is this?

Unknown Sender: The person you’re looking for.

Looking around in the darkness, I spotted my woman standing at the window inside our cabin, looking right at me. Staring at her, she said nothing before the curtain slowly closed.

Turning back to my phone, I hit the small phone icon, before placing my phone to my ear, hearing it ring only once before the line connected.

“Did you ask him for a favor?”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t have much time. Did you ask him for a favor?”

“Who?”

“Crispin Sinclair.”

“No. He asked me.”

The woman sighed before adding, “Word of advice, Reaper. Trust the Devil you know.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I’ve said all I can. Keep her safe, Reaper.”

And just like that, the line went dead.

The weekend had arrived, and the Sons of Hell were hosting a club barbeque for their visitors. While the women worked hard to prepare all the food and get everything ready, I sat in church with Maxim, Vladmir, King, and Antonio Valentinetti, who acted as the Valentinetti family representative, while we tried to make sense of everything.

“Everyone’s received files except the Golden Skulls?” King stated, then added, “Makes sense.”

“How so?” Antonio asked.

King smirked. “Because the Golden Skulls’ existence is an open book. Everything about the club came out in the war with the Society. They’ve got nothing else to hide.”

Well, that wasn’t technically true, but I wasn’t going to start sharing now. Not until I knew everything myself. The fact was, the thumb drive Pops left me had quite a bit of information still on it that needed to be uncovered, and until it was, I wasn’t saying or sharing shit.

I’ve played this guessing game before and I learned my lesson. The problem I was facing now was the possibility of being dragged into a war that didn’t concern me or mine, and after the last war, I wasn’t eager to jump into the fray.

“And we do,” Maxim groaned.

“Yeah.” King nodded. “What bugs me is the timing of it all. Why now? From what Scribe could find out, the files dropped after Reaper took back the chair.”

Vladmir slowly sat up and said, “And when my daughter returned home.”

Frowning, I looked at the man and asked, “You think this is because of Remi?”

“It’s a possibility. The files dropped the same day you took the chair and my daughter returned home. That is not a coincidence, Reaper.”

“It fucking better be,” I growled, not liking the implications, but the fucker made sense. No one knew when I would take the chair back or if my wife would return home. It just happened to be on the same motherfucking day. If Vladmir was right, then that meant someone was watching all of us.

“Remi’s scared.”

Vladmir sat up as Fedorov stiffened. “How do you mean?”

Time for some truth.

If Vladmir was right, then he deserved to know.

“She’s been to the Trick Pony.”

“Excuse me,” her father sneered.

Nodding, I reiterated, “She told me that Petrovitch took her to the Trick Pony. She’s scared. She keeps mentioning a monster. Someone more dangerous than Scott. I’ve tried to get her to open up, but she’s not ready, and I refuse to push the matter. My wife has been through enough already. I won’t cause her anymore pain.”

“You said monster.” Vladmir glared. “Was that the exact word she used?”

“Yes.”

“Aksana said the same thing,” he admitted, looking at Maxim. “Before, when I met her for the first time, I thought nothing of it. She said there was another hiding in the shadows. Someone stronger, someone so patient they were willing to sit back and let everyone else fight to the death, and when the last man was standing, that’s when he would make his move. She said he was the real threat.”

“Layla’s been to the Trick Pony as well,” Antonio added solemnly. “Gio didn’t want anyone to know, and he told me in confidence and ordered me to only mention it if it had anything to do with what was going on. According to Gio, Layla’s nightmares started up again after she killed George Stone.”

“Shit,” Maxim cursed. “I knew I should have killed that bastard myself.”

“Gio believes she saw something that night that triggered her. She flat out refuses to leave the island anymore.”

“Well, there is your starting point,” King said. “From a military logistical standpoint, you have three women that have been to the same place. Each with varying degrees of trauma.”

“Four,” I whispered.

“For what?” King asked.

Siting up, I sighed. “There are four women: Remi, Aksana, Layla, and Ivy. Ivy was raised in the club until that motherfucker sold her to my Florida Chapter at sixteen.”

King frowned. “Luc’s old lady?”

I nodded.

“Make that five.” Maxim sighed, hanging his head. “Silver, Montana’s bartender and Malice’s woman. She lived with Petrovitch for three years. If my brother took Remi to the Trick Pony, it’s only logical he would have taken Silver there too. Then there is Malice, who has been to the place himself.”

“They have nothing in common. All come from different backgrounds. The only thing connecting them is the Trick Pony,” Vladmir stated.

Shaking my head, I grinned. “That’s not true. Layla, Remi, and Silver were all in the hands of Petrovitch at one time or another. Malice is a brother in the Soulless Sinners and Ivy’s brother. More importantly, Layla is the daughter of the Collector, Sabastian Capribella. Remi is not only my wife, but the Goddaughter of the current Pakhan, and Malice and Ivy are the biological children of Devlin Scott. All major players that once worked for the Society at one time or another.”

Maxim nodded, adding, “And we know it was George Stone who facilitated Aksana being raised by Baranov. But by those estimates, then we must consider any offspring from Baranov, Petrovitch, Stone, or Scott could possibly have information, and they just don’t realize it.”

Rubbing the back of my neck, my mind whirled with what I knew about the Society. God, this shit was giving me a headache. I knew something bigger was at play. I was close. I could feel it. What I knew about the Society was common knowledge. It all started because of one woman who was hell-bent on revenge. A woman named Angela Craven Goldman. Solomon and Kitty’s mother. All because her older sister, Elizabeth Craven was kidnapped, raped, and killed by William Doherty.

Everyone knew that Elizabeth Craven was born to Henry Craven, a prominent senator from New York. William Doherty kidnapped, raped, and murdered her after she gave birth to his children, James Doherty and Sienna Ross. For years, the Craven family searched for Elizabeth until authorities found her body. After that, the Craven family disappeared. It was Elizabeth’s youngest sister, Angela, who at seventeen, met Alexander Goldman and fell in love. She had no idea about the war she married into between Goldman and the Golden Skulls. Then the shit with William Doherty happened when he tried to kill Alexander and her. Still oblivious, she went along with James Doherty, not realizing that he was her nephew, and married Shane Keller to protect her children, Solomon and Kitty, only to learn the truth afterward when James told her who his mother was and that he had a sister. Angela tried to take her babies and run, but Toxic had already taken Solomon.

That’s when Angela reached out to a family friend, Sylvia St. James. The St. James family belonged to a group called Division. A secular group, Division, was created to seek out and acquire the best and brightest minds worldwide. They had a hand in everything from scientific discoveries to medicine. It was Sylvia who found Elizabeth’s daughter, Sienna. When Angela learned where Sienna was, she visited, only to discover that Sienna already knew the truth about who her parents were. Together, the women fueled their hatred for the Golden Skulls off of one another. They made a game out of it. To see what atrocities they could get the Skulls to do next. They were sadistic, pathological, and evil. Everything from guns, drugs, and trafficking. It was all them. They even orchestrated my kidnapping and rape.

When Angela learned that her husband, Alexander, survived the attack, she hunted him down, only to die at his hand.

Reaching for my phone, I sent off a quick text.

Me: Did Elizabeth Craven have any other siblings besides Angela?

Sypher: One sec…

…  … …

Sypher: Yes. Charlotte Craven, born in New York in 1958. Married James Stone, born 1956 in New York. Younger brother to George Stone.

Me: Were the Craven’s originally from New York?

Sypher: No. Lincoln, Nebraska

Son of a bitch.