Chapter Thirty-One
Chasm
“Have you found her yet?”
“No, Prez. I’m not sure how she’s hiding. I sent Legacy to speak to her parents. They filed a missing person report with the local PD.”
“She’s sixteen fucking years old! Where the hell did she go?”
I slammed my hand on the table; none of the brothers said a word. I knew what they were thinking because I was thinking it too. I was just too damn afraid to say it out loud.
After B told me about my sister, I called Justin.
“Got something to tell you, and you ain’t gonna like it.”
Justin was quiet on the other end of the line. “Just say it. Things can’t get much worse.”
If only that were true. The secrets that had been coming out since the war started were the stuff of nightmares. Sylvia St. James was still alive. How we’d fucking missed that was anyone’s guess.
“Remember the list of names I told you about? The one with Morgan’s name on it?”
“Yeah,” he said cautiously.
“Well, Omen found out some information about them. He doesn’t think Steele knew she was my wife, but he found out she was related to O’Malley.”
I explained Omen’s theory about seeing Morgan with King after I died, and how finding out she was King’s sister may have been the catalyst that had him aligning with the Death Dogs and Satan’s Angels to take out King.
“And the others?”
One by one I went through the names. When I got to Windsor Moore, Justin went silent.
“Tell Omen to let that go.”
“Why? Who is she?”
Justin was quiet, and for a moment I was sure he wouldn’t tell me. We’d never kept secrets from each other. But I knew there would come a day when we might have to. To keep each other safe.
“Windsor Moore is...”
It was my turn to be quiet as Justin explained who she was, and which of the Silver Shadows she was connected to. And we weren’t the only club.
If her identity were revealed, it could have devastating repercussions for everyone involved.
“...you can’t tell your men.”
“I know. I’ll tell Omen to stand down where she’s concerned, but you’re sure she’s safe?”
“She’s safe. No one knows who she is or where she’s at.”
“That brings me to the last name on the list. Sullivan Prescott.”
“What about her?” he asked.
“She’s sixteen years old and was adopted at birth. She wanted to know who her real parents were and did one of those DNA kits. Omen found her registered through there.”
“Did she connect to someone?”
“Yeah, but not through the company she went with. Omen pulled the results from the server, hopefully before anyone realized what she’d done.”
“Jude, get to the point.”
“I need you to keep your shit together when I tell you this.” I took a deep breath and told him about Omen hacking into the Soulless Sinners’ DNA registry.
“SON OF A BITCH!”
“I’ve already told him to pull out. He didn’t hack into the servers—well, at least he said he didn’t.”
“And you believe him?”
“I do. He’s not out to hurt people, Justin. He’s the one person here I’ve never doubted.”
“Fine, who is she related to?” my brother asked, his frustration could be heard through his words.
“Us.”
“What?”
“Sullivan Prescott is our little sister. She’s the daughter of dear old Dad and Margaret Nichols. And she’s missing.”
Justin had been working with Omen ever since. Omen gave him full access to our servers in hopes Justin could find something Omen missed, but Sullivan was nowhere to be found.
She’d disappeared without a trace.
The thought went through my mind that Stone might have gotten to her before we ever had a chance.
“We need to find those motherfuckers,” Venom said, and I knew he meant Stone and Ballistic and the men who took off with them.
“If that son of a bitch has my sister...” I let my words trail off, unable to think clearly and choose a punishment heinous enough for either of them.
“We’ll find her,” Ambush said. “When I spoke to Legacy, he said he had a lead. He’ll call as soon as he has something concrete.”
Legacy was a tracker. And he was damn good at it.
“Have you thought about calling the Twisted Dragons?” Tito asked.
“Fuck no! Those crazy bastards are too much to deal with right now.”
“They found King’s mom; everyone thought she was dead. Maybe they can help us find the brothers who betrayed us,” Keno added.
“I’m not willing to owe Dread a fucking marker,” I spat.
The Twisted Dragons were aptly named. They were twisted fucking psychos. We had a man inside, but I wouldn’t call him unless I absolutely had to.
“What about Meadow Elliot?” I asked, moving on until we had something about Sullivan.
“The woman’s a fucking bitch,” LA groaned.
That groan had me smiling. LA was a country boy originally from Southern Alabama.
When I asked why he didn’t join the Satan’s Angels, he said his parents had saved their whole lives to make sure they had bail money for when he inevitably got arrested and needed a lawyer, and he was doing his best to make sure his parents had that money to retire on.
He’d been in a few scrapes with the law since he’d joined the club, but nothing big enough that he had to confess to them. Joining Satan’s Angels would have ensured he’d see the inside of a concrete room. He refused to prove his parents right.
The thing about LA, though, he was happy. All the fucking time. Nothing got under his skin. His road name should have been Ducky, since everything rolled off him like water on a duck’s back. So seeing him disgruntled by the beautiful lawyer was fucking priceless.
“She get under your skin, LA?”
He glared at Venom, who only laughed.
“Is she safe?” I asked. “You see anyone hanging around watching her?”
“I don’t know if safe is the word I’d use. But she isn’t in any fucking danger. Stone would have to be out of his mind to go after her.”
“Why?” Smokey asked, leaning back in his chair. The grin on his face told me he knew something.
“She’s a fucking menace. I tried to talk to her, and she fucking tased me before I could get past hello.”
I looked over at Omen. “She got something in her past?”
“She’s a defense attorney. She works with the lowest of the low.”
“Why haven’t we hired her then?” Spider asked.
“Fuck no, that woman ain’t coming here,” LA protested.
“Until we know why Steele had a file on her, we can’t bring her here. But also, we can’t leave her unprotected.” I looked pointedly at LA.
“Ah, fuck, Prez, why me?”
“Because you’ve already made contact. If I send someone else, she’ll get suspicious.” I grinned at him. “Pull up that Southern charm you’re always bragging about and win her over.”
LA crossed his arms, pouting like a petulant child, and the table roared with laughter at his muttering about uppity city bitches. I wasn’t sure Perryville, with its population of less than fifteen hundred, could be considered a city, but it was fun to watch LA squirm.
“How are the prospects making out?” I asked, switching to something a little less intense.
“Brian is solid,” B said, and I agreed.
Brian would make a great addition to the club when his year was up.
“Nathan and Peter, I’m not so sure about,” Dutch said.
“Why?”
“Both boys have their heads up their asses. They think this is some kind of frat house.”
Dutch was another old timer; he was younger than Smokey but older than Banshee. And as far as someone having their head up their ass, Dutch was the authority on that.
What most people didn’t know was that Dutch had a traumatic brain injury. He’d been medically discharged from the army after an IED took out his jeep. He’d never wanted anyone to know, so he let people think he was an idiot.
“Then maybe they’re due for a little hazing,” Krypto said, rubbing his hands together.
“Just don’t kill ’em,” I reminded him. “What about the other two?”
“Vincent and Colson,” B announced their names, knowing most of us wouldn’t remember them. Until you were patched in and given a road name, your name just wasn’t important enough to remember.
“I’ve run checks on all of them. They both came back clean, but there’s something about them both. They’ll either make great brothers, or they’ll end up dead before the year is up.”
“Why do you say that, Omen?” Ambush asked.
“I can’t put my finger on it, but they’re both shady as fuck.”
“Then why were they brought in?” Monty asked with a pointed look at Omen.
“Because I haven’t figured out yet whether that shade will protect us or bite us in the ass.”
“Then, until we know, keep an eye on them.” I looked around the table as the men nodded. I took a deep breath and said, “Jenna is becoming a problem. Not sure how much longer I can let her stay.”
The men grew quiet. No one wanted to kick her ass to the curb, but if she didn’t get with the program soon, we wouldn’t have a choice.
“I’ll keep a better eye on her,” Eagle said.
“She breaks into my fucking room again, and I don’t care who she is, her fucking ass is gone.”
“Yes, Prez.” Eagle looked at his brothers, and they both nodded.
I gave him a curt nod when he looked back at me. “Now, Thanksgiving is next week. My old lady and her mother want to have a big dinner. I expect each and every one of you to be at their beck and call. They tell you to jump, you ask how fucking high and you do it with a goddamn smile on your face.”
I rubbed at my chest and added, “O’Malley and his men will be here.”
“Fuck!”
“Seriously?”
“Jesus Christ.”
Groans went up around the table, and I understood. I wasn’t happy about it either, but he was Morgan’s father and if having him here helped me get on her good side, then I was going to play the best fucking host anyone had ever seen.
“Is King coming?” Scorpion asked.
“He is. He’s bringing his old lady and a few others. One of them is his brother Declan and his family.”
“Oh, fuck, Prez, Declan? Seriously?” Dutch asked.
King’s brother Declan, who was really his uncle, was the sheriff in Diamond Creek where King’s chapter of the Silver Shadows resided. He’d been a beat cop here in Arkansas and had arrested Dutch more than once.
“Best be on your best behavior, old man.” Crater laughed, and Dutch punched him on the shoulder.
“Who the fuck you calling old?”
I tapped the gavel on the worn wooden table to get their attention. “We’ll have a full house. I want you all on your best fucking behavior. This is my old lady’s family. Some of whom she will be meeting for the first time.”
“Prez?”
“Yeah?”
Falcon looked at Eagle before asking, “If she’s your old lady, why doesn’t she wear a cut?”
I’d been waiting for this question. The truth was, I hadn’t asked her to. Not yet. I told her she was still my old lady and made it clear I wasn’t letting her go. But I wouldn’t ask her to wear the cut until I knew she was ready.
“I fucked up, guys. More than fucking once. And until she forgives me, until she’s ready to let me back into her life completely, I won’t ask her to wear her cut.”
“You sure she still has it?” Tito asked.
I was sure. I’d seen it hanging in the closet when I went into her room. She didn’t know I was in there, and I wasn’t trying to invade her privacy, but I left her little gifts I knew she hadn’t noticed yet.
“She still has it.” I smiled at the men around the table, and each and every one of them smiled back.