Golden Atonement - Chapter 65

Chapter Thirty-One

Reaper

The barbeque was in full swing when everything went to shit. One of the fucking sluts that crashed our fun, shanked Aksana, and I lost my fucking temper.

“LOCK DOWN THE CLUBHOUSE!”

Everyone was talking at once while Claudia and George tried to save her life. Maxim, Illyria, King, and Bailey had rushed into the clubhouse when Cameron came out and told everyone the babies were gone.

With no one else around, I took charge.

“Dmitry, take that cunt to the bunker. Savage, go with him. Remi and Jess, get all the women into the clubhouse and stay there. The rest of you, I want this compound locked down tight. Double up, no one goes alone. Vladmir, let’s go!”

Trusting my brothers and the others, I headed inside to find total pandemonium.

Three kids had been taken: a Montclair, a Fedorov, and an Ivenok. For what reason, was still to be determined, but I fucking knew heads were about to roll. All I knew was the fucking bitch that shanked Aksana was Steele’s whore. It was what she said afterward that told me all I needed to know. The bitch said, I hope he kills them all.

That in itself was an immediate death sentence.

No fucking real man, biker or not, would ever kill a child to prove a fucking point. Unless the motherfucker had nothing else to lose and there was only one son of a bitch I knew who fit that description.

Reaching for my phone, I called Montana.

“I’m not talking to you, asshole.”

“Tell me you kept your word?”

“What the hell are you talking about now?”

“Satan’s Angels.”

When the motherfucker didn’t respond, I seethed, “I’m giving you one chance, Montana. Activate all your clubs now and finish the job or I will take what’s owed.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’ve got more pressing matters than some stupid fucking rivalry you have with Satan’s Angels. I’ve got ghost files coming out of my ass.”

“I don’t give a fuck, Montana!” I shouted into my phone. “Just fucking do it!”

“It will start a war, Reaper.”

“Listen to me, you lying, backstabbing bastard,” I fumed. “I didn’t create this fucking mess. Your dad did, and if I have to clean up your fucking mess, you better sleep with one fucking eye open. You fucking owe me, and you damn well know it. Now, get off your ass before I start making calls, and just remember one thing, you piece of shit. Your club is blood bound to protect Maxim’s son and Bane’s niece, so if anything happens to them, your ass is on the line,” I said when I heard Vladmir shout, running toward me.

“Kill all the feeds. Kill them now, Sypher. Someone hacked your system!”

Without asking, the fucking angry Russian yanked my phone out of my hand and yelled, “Kill the cameras! Someone has hacked into your system. They’ve been watching us all this time!”

“WHAT!” I clearly heard Montana roar loudly as Vladmir handed me back my phone. I had just placed it at my ear when I heard Montana shout, “Who the fuck are you?”

“FBI. We have an arrest warrant for Dante Sharp.”

“Don’t give a fuck. Get out!” Montana yelled right before the line went dead.

Looking at Vladmir, he asked, “Montana?”

I just shook my head. “He never got the chance to make the call. FEDs just walked in, looking for Pippen. They have a warrant for his arrest.”

“Sypher was just arrested, too.”

My phone started ringing.

It was Bullseye.

I didn’t need to answer it to know what had happened.

“King, I need your permission,” I said, looking at the distraught man. Why they took his daughter was a mystery to everyone. King and the Sons of Hell had nothing to do with the criminal underworld.

They were a legit biker club, solid members of their community.

They were clean.

“Callum, look at me,” Gunner said to his brother as the big man looked up with unshed tears in his eyes. “You are in no position to deal with this. Give Reaper the go-ahead.”

“She’s my little girl, Cord.”

Gunner’s face fell as he wrapped his brother in a hug. “I know, and we will get her back for you.”

Turning to look at me, Gunner nodded. “As the VP of the Sons of Hell, I am giving you permission.”

“Alright,” I sighed, leaning forward after Gunner walked King out of church. “What do we know besides Sypher, Pippen, and Phantom being arrested?”

“Whoever is behind this is patient and methodical. They waited for the precise moment when the children of three major players would be in the same location,” Vladmir said, and Bayou looked up from his phone and cursed.

“Fuck, Vicious just texted. York is missing too. Montana’s losing his shit. He’s locked down the Soulless Sinners and put all his clubs on alert with orders to shoot on sight anyone wearing a Satan’s Angel cut.”

“Bayou, call Player and tell him and Matrix to get on their fucking computers and start digging. I know they are not as good as Phantom, but maybe they can find something. Then call Sandman and tell him to get all the kids and Sunny to a safe location. I don’t want to know where he takes them. Just make sure they leave within the hour.”

Bayou nodded quickly, leaving the room only to shout seconds later, “Reaper, we got company!”

Walking out of church with everyone else, I spotted the local town sheriff of Rosewood walking through the front door of the clubhouse, carrying a small pink bundle in his arms. Bailey cried, running toward the man, who happily handed over the little baby, and King gathered both of them in his arms.

“Someone want to tell me why I found Rose laying on the front step of the sheriff’s station?” the sheriff firmly asked.

“Mike, now is not a good time,” Pyro cautioned.

“Make the fucking time,” the sheriff growled.

“Short version,” Gunner started. “Someone came into the clubhouse and kidnapped three kids. Rose was one of them.”

“My grandbabies?”

“All good, Mike,” Gunner quickly confirmed. “They are with Sarah and the others upstairs.”

“And the other two?”

“My daughter,” Vladmir said, stepping forward. “Along with my godson.”

“You’re the Russians visiting Banks?”

He nodded. “Aleksandr is Nikoli’s older brother.”

“Missing kids is a federal crime, boys. Know you gents like handling shit your own way, but I’ve got to call in the FEDs.”

“I can’t let you do that,” I replied sternly, then lied, “They are the ones who took them.”

The sheriff stared me down, then sighed. “This have anything to do with that shit in the news over a year ago? Because if it’s connected, I’m not gonna be happy if that crap spills over into my town. Don’t know if you know this, but Rosewood is a clean town.”

“I am aware of that,” I stated, holding my ground.

“Fine,” the sheriff groaned, reaching for his phone. “If you won’t let me call the FEDs, then I’m calling in for reinforcements. You might know the man. Goes by Merc.”

“Phantom’s brother?” Vladmir questioned, looking at me as I frowned, then asked, “You know Merc?”

“Yeah, served together before I got out. Mean fucker too. He and his team are still together. Last time we talked, he was thinking about joining some group called Harbor Security.”

“Hold that call,” I ordered and started pacing the room.

That couldn’t be a coincidence.

It was too motherfucking easy.

Ace and the rest of his team were in hiding. Only two people knew where and I was one of them. The other would die before he gave them up. Now the FEDs chose to use their warrants against Sypher, Phantom, and Pippen. The same fucking night three kids of three major players in the underworld go missing.

Yeah.

If I wasn’t sure before I sure as fuck was now.

Someone was fucking feeding the FEDs information, to bring everyone to heel, and there was no better way than kidnapping kids. And when I got my hands on that son of a bitch, I was going to rip his fucking body to shreds.

“What if all the ghost files have nothing to do with anything? Think about it, this mystery fucker Malice look-alike, the Oracle, and Ace disappearing, what do they all have in common?”

Groaning, Vladmir clipped, “Just tell us what’s going on in that fucked-up head of yours.”

“The old guard is dead. The release of those files makes no sense. But the files from the Trick Pony, now those are different.”

“Because several of the members are still alive and can be brought to justice. We know this, Reaper.”

“Exactly.” I smiled deviously.

“Fuck,” Vladimir groaned. “You think the ghost files were a smoke screen? You think Ace disappearing, Malice’s twin, and this Oracle are all trying to protect us?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Because it was Ace and his team who found the files at the Trick Pony. I know Ace. Fucker may hate the club life, but he would never do anything to intentionally harm his brothers. Malice, his twin, Ivy, and now Aksana all have the same father.”

“And the Oracle?” Maxim asked, walking over.

“You heard Aksana. They work for Mr. Ess. I’d bet my clubhouse that Malice’s twin is also working for Mr. Ess because, whoever he is, he doesn’t want the information from the Trick Pony to get out into the open.”

“And Max, Katiya, and York?”

“Children of three major players?” I said before reluctantly adding, “Leverage to bring you to heel.”

“Then we need to have a talk with that bitch,” Vladmir sneered. “Because my daughter is not leverage.”

Walking into the bunker with Vladmir behind me, I took off my cut and placed it on a hook, before saying, “Get the fuck out of here, Savage. My wife and sister don’t leave your sight.”

“Sure thing, Prez,” my brother replied, quickly leaving.

“You too, Dmitry,” Vladmir added, removing his suit jacket. “Aksana’s been taken to Rosewood Memorial. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Sure thing. I’ll call when there is news,” the big Russian assured before leaving, closing the door to the bunker behind him.

“You want the honors or shall I?”

I grimaced, looking at the whore. “Bitch looks like a spitter. She’s all yours.”

Sighing, Vladmir rolled up his sleeves and walked over to the bitch. “My name is Vladmir Ivenok. What is your name?”

“Fuck you!” the woman shouted, spitting in his face.

Yep. Just like I said.

A fucking spitter.

Taking a step back, Vladmir wiped his face before he threw his arm back and punched the bitch in the mouth.

Seeing a chair in the corner, he dragged it over to the middle of the room and sat down. “Now. Let’s start again. Your name?”

“Candy-Pop.”

“What was that?”

“My name is Candy-Pop,” the bitch sneered, spitting blood on the floor.

Chuckling, I clearly said, “Well, Candy, let’s hope the information you give us is as sweet as your name, ‘cause if it isn’t, you won’t be walking out of here alive.”

“I ain’t talkin’ to the Russian. Only you.”

Vladmir turned and stared at me as I pushed off the wall.

“Why me?”

“Cause Steele hates you the most.”

“I think that honor goes to Montana.”

“Montana’s just the fuckin’ patsy. He will get his when the truth comes out. Steele wanted me to give you a message.”

“I’m listening.”

“He wants what’s owed. You give it to him, and he will walk away.”

“Now see.” I smirked, looking at Vladmir. “That just pisses me off. Why is it that everyone thinks I owe them something? I’m just the president of a small fucking club. I try to stay out of everyone’s business, but everyone seems to blame me for their lot in life.”

“Well, you do tend to rub people the wrong way.” Vladmir grinned.

“I’m a fucking saint!”

“You mean the Devil,” the fucker snipped.

“He wants his club back!” Candy shouted, gaining my attention again.

“He had his club. All he had to do was stay in fucking Alabama.”

“Not Satan’s Angels. The Golden Skulls.”

Sighing heavily, I hung my head. “Why does everyone think they have a claim to my motherfucking club?”

“Maybe it’s because of your stellar personality?”

Narrowing my eyes at Vladmir, Candy added, “When the truth comes out about your clubs, Steele will kill the both of you, then merge the two clubs and take his rightful place as President.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ve heard this story before. Fucker thinks he’s got some blood claim and now he wants to collect. Well, bitch. I hate to break it to you, but no one is claiming my club but me. Not Steele. Not Montana. No one. Fuck, I’m so tired of this bullshit. She’s got nothing. She’s all yours, Vladmir.”

I headed for the door when the bitch shouted, “You won’t win, because when the monster finds you, he will kill you all.”

Now that stopped me dead in my tracks.

Slowly turning toward the soon-to-be-dead woman.

“What the fuck did you just say?” I sneered as Vladmir slowly stood.

In the end, Candy never said another word.

Left with no choice, Vladmir quickly ended her life.

Knowing that Steele sent Candy to deliver a message, Vladmir and I quickly deduced that the missing kids were possibly somewhere in Alabama. The problem was that Alabama is Montana’s domain.

Which left me no choice but to call that motherfucker again.

Not wasting any time, I started speaking the second the line connected.

“Kids are in Alabama.”

“Meet me in Birmingham,” was all I heard before the line went dead.

The flight from Virginia to Birmingham, Alabama took just over an hour, and when we landed, we hit the ground running, wasting no time meeting up with Montana and a Soulless Sinner I hadn’t yet met.

“Maxim, Reaper, Vladmir,” Montana greeted. “This is Grudge. He’s the President of my Alabama Chapter. We’re going to be staying with them while his club scouts and gathers information. Grudge knows the area best and we’ll follow his lead. Grudge?”

Grudge was a beast of a man. Standing well over six and a half feet tall, with tattoos covering damn near every inch of his body. The man was more muscle than smile. With his shaggy dark hair and cold, dead brown eyes, the man looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here. It was that bored expression that looked remarkably familiar to me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was…

“Listen up and pay fuckin’ attention. This ain’t New York. We do shit differently down here in the Old South, so let me lay it out for you. Mind your fucking manners. If you think my boys are rough, you ain’t never seen a Southern woman on a hair trigger. Don’t fuck with them, because if you do, my brothers won’t think twice before layin’ your asses flat. And another thing and this one’s important, it’s college football season down here and we take that shit seriously. So, for the love of God, while you’re here you are all now Alabama fans… Roll Tide. I’m not lookin’ to start another fucking Civil War down here. Got me?”

Maxim and Vladmir looked at each other, while I chuckled and stated, “I’m more of a Tennessee Vols fan myself.”

“You sum’-bitch,” Grudge growled, and Montana jumped in front of the large angry biker. Montana was a big man himself, but even he was having trouble controlling Grudge.

“Goddammit, Reaper,” Montana sneered. “You ever heard of the saying, when in fucking Rome, asshole?”

Ignoring Montana, I walked off whistling and singing, “Never been to Rome, but I have been to Tennessee. Wish I was on ol’ rocky top, down in the Tennessee hills…”

“He’s dead,” Grudge seethed, fighting Montana’s hold.

“You can kill him after we find our kids.”

The Alabama Chapter of the Soulless Sinners was exactly what I expected. Another warehouse that was converted into a clubhouse, strategically situated for maximum advantage and, like the Mother Chapter in New York, the compound was heavily guarded.

Stepping out of the rental car, I noticed that every Alabama Soulless Sinner stopped and stared at me. Unlike the main chapter in New York, this club was different. There was something off about this club. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but this chapter was no ordinary Soulless Sinner club. This chapter was more, and by the way Montana’s shady ass was acting, I knew I was right.

This club was hiding something big.

“Looks like your jovial personality has reached worldwide, Reaper.”

“Whatever,” I snarked, walking through the front doors of the clubhouse like I owned the place because my gut was telling me I would and really fucking soon.

“The kids are being held here,” Terror, the Sergeant at Arms of the Alabama Chapter of the Soulless Sinners, said, pointing to a spot on the map. The man was enormous, like Grudge. In fact, most of the brothers were. “Sent the prospect to scout the place. Lucky sum’-bitch even managed to sneak his ass inside and do his thing. He sent us this right before you arrived.”

Clicking on a remote, I watched the black screen flicker blue as a grainy black and white feed appeared on the screen. There, in the middle of the room, were Little Max and York, sitting on the floor on either side of Katiya, who silently cried.

“Where the fuck is the prospect now?” Grudge asked angrily.

“Where the fuck you think?” Terror snarked. “Fucker’s hiding in the damn attic. He’s got eyes on those kids and ain’t leavin.’ Even threatened to beat his ass, but the lucky fucker ain’t budgin’.”

“Excuse me, gentleman,” Maxim spoke up, interrupting them. “Explain to me why, if your man has access to our kids, he doesn’t just get them out of there?”

“Because of this,” Misery, the Vice President of the Alabama Chapter, said, taking the remote and pressing another button as the screen changed to show at least fifty Satan’s Angels walking the outside perimeter of the clubhouse. “And that’s just the outside. Inside, there’s at least twenty more.”

That lying, two-faced slimy motherfucker!

I growled, shaking my head as the room went deathly quiet. Glaring at Montana, I seethed, radiating anger. “You lying motherfucker. You didn’t do shit, did you?”

The tension in the room exploded. No one moved.

“You have one of the biggest fucking motorcycle clubs in the world and you couldn’t even uphold your end of a marker.”

Montana sat there and said nothing.

He couldn’t. He knew I was right.

“Is that why I got the cold-shoulder welcome? Because as the President of a club myself, I should have received the respect I am due. So, explain it to me, Montana. You swore a blood oath to me. You vowed to protect my woman because you wanted in on taking down the Society. I had it all in hand, but that wasn’t good enough, was it? You couldn’t let my minuscule club, by your standards, show you up. Was that it? Was my club that big of a threat to you and yours? Or was it because if I succeeded on my own, the table would take a closer look at you and that was something you didn’t want?”

Montana kept quiet while I eerily and calmly continued, “It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to answer that. We both already know the answer and you know what biker law demands. So, tell me, Montana. Which club?”

“Don’t threaten me, asshole,” Montana sneered.

“Either you choose, or I will.”

“Clear the motherfucking room. NOW!” Montana roared, his eyes glued to mine. If this motherfucker wanted a fucking showdown, then I would happily oblige.

The second the room cleared, I jumped across the table and punched the lying fucker in the face.

Fuck talking.

I was going to kill him now and save everyone the trouble.

Refusing to let up, I swung again, connecting with his jaw. Hearing him grunt, I smiled, kneeing him in the ribs when his fist connected with my kidney.

Should have fucking known fucknuts would fight dirty.

Rolling to my side, I got to my feet while he stumbled to his, wiping the blood from his lip with the back of his hand.

“I fucking hate you,” he sneered.

“Feeling’s mutual,” I said, throwing my arm back and taking another swing at him, knocking him back down to the ground. Walking over to him, I grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking his head back.

Lifting my arm, I was about to hit him again when he said, “I kept my word.”

Grabbing his cut, I hauled him close. “The fuck you did.”

Shaking his head, he replied, “I gave the order, Max. My dad rescinded it.”

Letting him go, I took a step back.

“Why?”

“Who the fuck knows?” Montana coughed, spitting blood on the floor. “All I know is that since his death, my club has gone to shit. Everything I’ve known is wrong. I’ve got files upon files that make no fucking sense. Now this shit with the Trick Pony and Steele. I swear, Max, I kept my word. I ordered the Southern clubs to kill all the Satan’s Angels.”

“He’s right, Reaper,” Grudge spoke, stepping into the room with the rest of the Birmingham club behind him. “Montana called me personally and gave the order. We were about to execute it when George called, relaying another order. When I refused, he told me he would kill my brothers if I didn’t follow his edict.”

“Threatening your club brothers is a false threat, Grudge. You know once the President gives an order, it’s to be followed to the letter.”

“Tell him, Grudge.”

Grudge nodded and spoke. “Not my club brothers. My blood brothers. My birth name is Angus Savage. You know my younger brothers, Jonathan and Zane Savage, who you know as Matrix.”

Montana grunted, moving to sit in a chair. “Told you I didn’t want your club. I’m trying to save it.”