Chapter Forty-Seven
Reaper
“You don’t get to tell me what to fucking do, asshole,” Montana snarled, moving to stand next to me as I turned to look at King. The big fucker grinned, slowly getting up from his seat, then walked over to stand on the other side of me.
“Hey, Dad,” I sneered, crossing my arms over my chest. “Death becomes you.”
James Doherty growled, taking a step toward me. “You little shit!”
“You know, I’ve missed your fatherly talks like a bad case of crotch rot.”
“Boy, I oughta...”
Sighing, I whistled loudly as shadows moved all around the room. Everywhere I looked, officers from the Silver Shadows, Golden Skulls and Soulless Sinners emerged out of the darkness, stepping into the light. Some faces familiar to Pops, some not, but all loyal to the three of us.
Looking directly at the man who raised me, I said, “Did you think I didn’t know?
You taught me well, old man. More importantly, you fucked up when you sent my best friend on a wild-goose chase for five motherfucking years.
Too bad for you that Ghost is like a dog with a bone.
He found what you hid, and now we”—I pointed at the two fuckers next to me—“know everything.”
Pops grinned. “Then you understand.”
I chuckled. “I understand you and your cronies made a fucking mess for us to clean up, and because of you fucktards, we’ve had to play catch-up. So, as the current and only president...”
Montana growled, and I rolled my eyes, sighing.
“Fine,” I grumbled, glaring at fucknuts. “As co-presidents of the Golden Skulls, we’ve decided we’re going to do this shit our way.”
“I’m working with fucking children,” King whispered.
“What do you mean, co-presidents?” Pops growled.
I smiled, then waved my hand at fucknuts. “You want to answer that one, brother?”
“Would love too.” Montana oozed contempt. “Asshole finally came to his senses...”
I snarled as King reached behind me and slapped Montana on the back of the head. “Play nice.”
“Fucker!” Montana griped, then clearly said, “The Soulless Sinners patched over. We’re now one big-ass fucking club.”
“Except you aren’t because someone else has stepped up to take control of the Soulless Sinner chapters that turned their back on you when you failed to eradicate the Satan’s Angels,” Pops said. “His name is Beast, but we can’t get a line on who he is.”
Mimic stepped over to King and whispered something in his ear. King pulled back and asked, “Are you fucking sure?”
Mimic nodded.
“Fuck,” King cursed.
King looked at Arizona, who stood with Pops, then turned to look at Montana, who stiffened. “What?” he growled.
“Beast is Dakota,” King explained.
I growled as Montana picked up a chair and threw it across the room. Arizona, eyes wide, snarled, “Bullshit. My brother may be many fucking things, but he’s loyal to the family.”
“You sure about that, Ari?” Montana faced his younger brother. “Because after all he’s done, I’m not.”
“He’s our brother!”
“Half-brother,” I offered as both Stone brothers looked at me.
“Dakota not only kidnapped Bane’s wife and locked her in a fucking insane asylum for a decade, but he and your father held my enforcer for five fucking years while he beat and tortured him. Tell me again how great the son of a bitch is!” King snarled.
“He raped Carly.” Fury stepped forward into the light. “Your brother, Steele from the Satan’s Angels, and Gray, Malice’s brother, kidnapped and gang-raped my woman. The three of them worked with Jane Craven, leaving a trail of bodies we’re still uncovering.”
“He kissed my wife,” I growled.
King looked over at me. “Really? That’s not exactly in the same league as all this other shit.”
“And if it was Grace?” I asked.
King blinked before nodding. “Enough said.”
“He tried to kill my sister,” Mimic added.
King closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest. “Reaper—”
“He was working with Valhalla, and my old lady killed the bitch,” Mimic announced proudly.
Montana and I slowly turned to look at the fucker standing beside us. “Really?” I growled.
Montana snarled, “Forget to tell us something, brother?”
King shrugged and smirked.
“ENOUGH!” Pops roared as all three of us looked at the old man, and before I could say anything, Montana started laughing, and King quickly followed. Shaking my head, I too started chuckling.
“It doesn’t have the same effect, does it?”
“Nope.” King laughed, shaking his head.
Quickly sobering, I snarled, “Did you honestly think we’d allow you to walk back into this mess and take over? You may think you have the power, but you don’t. You are dead, and dead men don’t talk.”
In the next instance, Sandman huffed and walked away from Pops and the others, putting on his pink sparkly headphones, and again taking a seat at the bar.
Montana stared at Arizona, who shook his head, grumbling as he too walked away from Pops, to stand behind Montana.
“That’s two,” I stated, looking at the remaining men before me. “Anyone else?”
From behind Morpheus, a familiar face, one I once called brother, once a beloved friend to my wife, one who’s head I put a bullet in for being a traitor, walked out and smiled. Before I knew it, I had my blades in my hands. “YOU MOTHERFUCKER!”
“WHOA!” Montana shouted, jumping away from me as I pointed my blade at the dead man.
“I fucking killed you!”
“Apparently not,” I vaguely heard Montana mutter.
“I thought we agreed not to piss him off when he has those blades in his hands?” King whispered.
“This is pure gold. Not passing this up.” Montana chuckled as Pops said, “Hemlock, stand down.”
I blinked. “Hemlock?”
“That’s right, you piece of shit. Shamrock was my twin brother.”
Montana walked over to me and whispered, “Getting off course, asshole. Put the fucking blades away. You are making King nervous.”
“Says the man who nearly shit his pants. At least with the blades in his hands, he can’t shoot you again,” King snarked.
“Back to the issue at hand. The Death Dogs are done. Eradicated. We know they had a rich backer to help them try to take over my club. I am guessing it was Dakota. We also know he was working with Zephyr,” King said, his eyes on Morpheus.
“Explain,” Morpheus snarled, taking a step forward.
Nav stepped forward, looking at Shame. “Sypher gave me the files. I’ve read through all of them, and Dakota and Zephyr have something in common.”
“What?” Morpheus asked.
“Their mother was Lucy McLaren,” he announced.
Malice snarled.
“The fuck you say?” Morpheus growled.
“It’s true. Lucy was Kalden Baudelaire’s bastard daughter—”
“Hold up,” Montana interrupted. “Charlotte said she was the daughter of Eamon O’Malley?”
“Charlotte was wrong about more than one thing,” Nav said, and I heard a growl from the side of the room.
Nav held up his hands. “That’s the issue with paper trails: documents can be forged.
We know George Stone had an affair with her, and she gave birth to Dakota, who George made his wife raise as one of her own.
The DNA database Bane put together proves that.
And thanks to Cerberus, we have DNA that proves Lucy’s actual father is Kalden.
But before Dakota was born, Lucy had another son with Cordell James, the president of the Satan’s Angels.
His name is John McLaren, aka Zephyr. With Steele gone, Zephyr can take over as president of the Satan’s Angels, while Dakota reels in the Soulless Sinners.
Working together, they could be unstoppable if we don’t do something. ”
“To what end?”
“To control the Biker Federation,” I explained.
“The rules are clear. A sitting president, a descendant of a founding member of the Golden Skulls, has to sit at the table. But if all of them are dead, that means anyone can sit. Zephyr and Dakota want to run the table. To take the Biker Federation back to a lawless state. And with help along the way, they almost succeeded.”
Laughter drew my attention as Montana snarled, “Got something to say, Snoopy?”
“You fucking dumbass,” the old retirement reject snapped. “You handed those two sick fucks exactly what they wanted.”
“What the hell are you blabbering about? I didn’t do shit!”
“The fuck you didn’t!” Snoopy shouted, getting in Montana’s face. “The second you patched over your club, the original chapter, you gave Dakota everything he needed to make a run for the table!”
“Son of a bitch,” King hissed. “And with Zephyr running the Satan’s Angels, the two of them will have the power to take over.”
“Except Zephyr doesn’t have a claim to the presidency,” Pops smiled.
“Who the fuck does?”
“I do!” Popeye said from the front door. “Where the fuck is my daughter?”