Chapter Twenty-Four
August
Soulless Sinners’ clubhouse, twenty years later...
“Son of a bitch,” I cursed, flipping through the pages that sick son of a bitch had acquired and fabricated over the years. It was all there. Every little fucking detail of my life in black and white.
If that fucker wasn’t already dead, I would kill him myself!
I fucking knew as soon as the intern mentioned the club records; I knew that was what I’d been searching for all these years. I fucking knew that somewhere deep in the bowels of this godforsaken place, I’d find the answers I’d been looking for.
And I was right. The second Pippen broke into the ghost file, I ordered him to print my entire file.
“How the fuck is the first girl I ever kissed relevant to the fucking club?”
“What?” Silver asked, walking over to me as I handed her a sheet of paper. It was information regarding me at age seven, when I kissed a young girl named Sarah Malone on the playground at the elementary school I attended. There was even a picture attached.
The club’s intern, Pippen, walked into the main room carrying another box, placing it in front of Malice. “Here ya go, Malice. That’s all your information. Silver, yours is printing now.”
Ignoring the couple, I searched page after page.
I fucking knew that fucker kept a record somewhere of all his dealings, and from the looks of things, he kept detailed records.
Staring at the box before me, I knew she was in there somewhere.
Piled beneath the mounds of paper, I knew I would find her.
I had to believe she was still out there somewhere, living her life with our child.
She had to be, because I refused to think of the alternative.
“That motherfucker!” I roared, jumping to my feet, with a sheet of paper in my hands. “That sick son of a bitch caused the accident!”
“What?”
“The accident that killed my sister. It wasn’t Montana’s fault.”
“What do you mean?” Malice asked, placing a piece of paper back in the box.
“It was George!” I seethed, facing them.
“He orchestrated the accident. The roads were clear. He hired a crew to wet the bridge, knowing that the frigid temperatures would freeze the road overnight. And to ensure the car went over the bridge, he tampered with the brakes in Montana’s car.
That fucker wanted his sons and my sister to go into the cold water. He planned it all!”
“Does it say why?” Silver asked.
I shook my head, reaching into the box for the next sheet of paper. Reading it quickly, my face paled. Staggering back a few steps, I stuttered, “She was pregnant. My sister was pregnant with George’s kid. He tried to murder my sister to cover up his mistake.”
Walking over to my box, Silver reached in and grabbed the next sheet.
Scanning it, she looked at Malice. “According to this, after the accident, the Lansings whisked Amy away for treatment and to protect her. While in a coma, she delivered the baby. George showed up demanding the kid and paid the Lansing’s five million to keep quiet.
Oh God,” she gasped, looking at Malice, who slowly got to his feet.
“What?” both Malice and I asked.
Gulping, she looked at both of us and whispered, “George Stone sold the baby, but it doesn’t say to who.”
“What the fuck is going on?” Montana roared as he stormed down the stairs of the clubhouse. “I can hear your fucking mouths all the way upstairs!”
I watched as his eyes widened when he took in the scene before him before they landed on mine. I didn’t have to tell him. I could see the recognition in his eyes. After twenty motherfucking years, I finally found what I needed to locate Diana.
Still clutching the single sheet of paper in my hands, I walked over to him and whispered so only he could hear.
“Meet me at the penthouse tonight.”
He nodded, then turned to look at Silver, Malice, and Pippen. “What the actual fuck?” Montana’s voice was laced with a mixture of confusion and anger. “What the fuck is all this shit?” He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes wild. “It better not be what I think it is.”
Gathering my box, I tuned everything out as I left the clubhouse.
The weight of the box in my hands felt like nothing compared to the weight of the revelations I’d just uncovered.
For twenty years I’d been searching, and now, I finally had a lead.
I couldn’t shake the image of George’s smug face from my mind.
That bastard had caused so much pain, and I fucking knew he held the key to finding Diana and my child.
As I entered my penthouse, the familiar surroundings did little to calm my racing heart. I placed the box on the table, knowing that within it lay the truth. A truth that could change everything. Montana arrived soon after, his face a mask of determination.
Without a word, I began sifting through the records, searching for any further clues that could lead me to Diana and her whereabouts.
For several hours, I combed through file after file.
Each piece of information led to another, and then to another, until slowly a more disturbing picture began to emerge.
It was clear that George’s reach extended far beyond what I’d imagined, and the web of his corruption entangled the club further with every discovery.
But as I continued, the weight of it all pressed heavily on my shoulders.
I found her picture tucked away near the bottom of the box.
My heart stopped as I pulled out the familiar image of her smiling face.
She hadn’t changed a bit; her brown eyes still sparkled with life, and her light blonde hair fell in waves around her shoulders.
I traced the contours of her face with my fingers as a thousand memories flooded back.
I could almost feel her soft lips on mine, the warmth of her body next to mine on those lonely cold nights.
Then, I saw it—a photo of a young boy, perhaps ten years old.
He had her eyes, her smile, and my stubborn chin.
My hands began to shake as I realized this was our son, a child I had never met.
I quickly scanned the rest of the file, my eyes devouring every word.
There it was—the confirmation I needed. She was alive.
I felt a mix of emotions—relief that she was alive, anger that I had been robbed of a life with them, and a desperate longing to find them.
It was late when Montana entered the penthouse to find me standing in front of the large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the vast cityscape before me.
“She’ll never forgive me,” I said as my best friend walked over.
“What do you mean?”
“Take a look for yourself,” I scoffed. “It’s all there in black and white. George Stone is the gift that keeps on giving. Prepare yourself, Montana. It isn’t pretty.”
Doing as I instructed, he walked over to the dining room table and scanned all the folders, with the pages out on display. It was a lot to take in. I knew it, and I’d had hours to absorb it all.
“Holy fuck!” Montana shouted. “You did get Meredith pregnant.”
“Keep reading. There’s more.”
“That sick son of a bitch! He set you up to have a tie to the Golden Skulls!”
“Oh, it gets better,” I said, turning to face my best friend. “He set us all up.”
“What do you mean?”
“Check the file marked 2005.”
Watching as Montana opened the file, I said nothing as his frown deepened as he read the contents. “I don’t understand this. What the hell was my father doing in Oregon in 2005?” As he continued to read, I watched as his face paled right before he dropped into a chair. “No.”
“Oh yes,” I sneered, walking over to take a seat at the table. “Your father was at the very compound Reaper and Remi were being held at. As for why, the file doesn’t say.”
The entire underworld knew what had happened to Reaper and his wife Remi when they were kids.
Kidnapped off the streets, Reaper was taken to a facility where he was beaten, drugged, and forced to have sex with a young girl.
God only knew what else those sick fucks had in store for Reaper, but thanks to his father James and several of the Golden Skull brothers, they found him a few weeks later, along with several other children, Reaper’s future wife, Remi, included.
“FUCK!” Montana roared, throwing the file across the room as photographs littered the marble floor. Taking a deep breath, he looked at me. “Tell me you found her. Tell me that all of this shit wasn’t for nothing.”
Sliding another file toward him, I leaned back in my chair as Montana opened it and cursed. “What the fuck is this?” he asked, holding up a handwritten note in his father’s handwriting.
You want her, find the cunt you raped.
“No one has seen the bitch since she was sixteen. She’s gone. Disappeared off the face of the fucking earth!”
“And with my two kids, apparently.” I sighed, shaking my head.
Montana’s eyes scanned the room, his face a mask of confusion and anger.
“What the hell does that cunt have to do with Diana and your kid?” He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes wild as he tried to piece together the scattered clues.
“This doesn’t make any sense. My father was a right nasty bastard, but this.
..” He trailed off, his eyes landing on a photograph that had been hidden within the files.
It was a picture of a young woman, her face partially obscured by shadows, but there was no mistaking the resemblance.
“Holy shit,” he whispered. “She looks like... you?”
“Yes, she does,” I replied, my voice heavy with uncertainty. “And if my math is right, she’s Meredith’s daughter.”
Montana’s words hung in the air as the weight of the revelation sank in. The young woman in the photograph, the one who looked so much like me, was undeniably my daughter. The product of a heinous act that would haunt me for the remainder of my days.
“So, what now?” Montana asked, his voice laced with a mixture of determination and desperation. “You have to find her. If she knows anything, you need to find out.”
I nodded, knowing he was right. I had to locate this woman, this potential daughter of mine, and uncover the truth.
“Take a look at the background, Montana.”
Doing as I asked, he cursed. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”
“Nope.” I shook my head. “She’s staying at the Silver Shadows’ clubhouse in Diamond Creek, Nebraska.”
“A club girl?”
I stiffened and sneered. “Not for long if she is.”
“So when do you want to leave for Nebraska?”
“As soon as possible.”
Little did I know that my search would lead me down a rabbit hole of family secrets and lies, exposing a lineage of corruption that went deeper than either of us could have ever imagined.