Chapter Thirty-Eight
Bane
“She’s asleep,” Torment said sometime later as he walked into the mailroom. “She agreed to allow me to give her a sedative.”
“I don’t want her drugged, Torment,” I snapped.
“That’s not your decision. It’s hers. She needs to rest, Bane,” the club therapist argued, taking his seat. “That woman’s mind is fractured. She can’t differentiate between what’s real and what’s not. Until she can clearly see and comprehend the truth before her, she needs medication.”
I knew he was right. I didn’t like it, but he was right.
Leaning forward in my chair, I held my head. “This is all my fault. She suffered through hell, all because I couldn’t walk away from her. How will she ever forgive me?”
“Forgive you?” Montana grumbled, rubbing the red mark on his cheek. “I’m the one she attacked, asshole. You got a fucking hug.”
Mercy snickered. “Serves you right for being an asshole.”
“Am I the only one curious as to who they are?” Storm asked. “You all heard her when she laid into Montana. She said they .”
“Yeah,” Payne grunted, shifting his shoulder. “I caught that too.”
“It’s Meredith and Dakota,” Shame said, leaning forward in his chair. It was good to see him in his seat again. “When Sinclair and I got her out of the asylum, I saw the visitor logs. The two of them have been visiting her on a regular basis. Dakota more so than the bitch.”
“Malice and I heard her in Vegas. She said she ensured her incompetence. I didn’t know what that meant at the time. Now I do,” Montana groaned as he leaned back in his seat. “This is a clusterfuck.”
Laughter from the gathering room had us all turning as we watched Fury and Vicious walk into the boardroom, only to stop dead in their tracks when their eyes landed on Shame.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Fury roared as Vicious closed his eyes and shook his head, before groaning, “I fucking knew I should have stayed in California.”
Shame stood just as Fury hugged him hard, and Vicious walked over, shaking the man’s hand. Looking at the others sitting at the table, he asked, “So, what else did we miss?”
“So, let me get this straight,” Fury, the club’s sergeant at arms, groaned, rubbing his hands down his face.
“Bane is married to a woman named Diana Cooper. Has been for the last twenty fucking years. And the fucking rift between you two was nothing more than a ploy to throw George off while Bane gathered evidence using the club’s DNA database against the sick fucker. ”
“Yes,” I stated, and Montana nodded.
“So Pippen and Amber are yours, then?” Vicious asked, and I nodded.
“And DNA proves that?” Fury challenged.
My head snapped up as I glared at the fucker. “What are you saying, Fury? You’re saying I don’t know my own flesh and blood when I see them?”
“He’s got a point, Bane,” Torment piped up.
“The fuck he does,” I snapped. “You saw them with your own eyes, Torment. They look like me.”
“No, they look like Meredith. They have similarities to you. All I’m saying is, consider the source. You learned of their existence from the ghost files. Files accumulated and constructed by George motherfucking Stone.”
“Torment’s right,” Montana piped up. “Say what you want about my father, but the only good thing he did right was force you to create that damn DNA database. We need confirmation. You need it, August, because if there’s even a small chance, then we need to know.
Storm, reach out to your intern. Tell him we need his blood. ”
Storm glared. “He’s not a fucking intern anymore.”
Montana sneered, “Just call the fucking kid. In the meantime, we have a serious fucking problem.”
“Hold up!” I shouted, slamming my hand down on the table.
“No, brother,” Fury interjected. “You need to think logically about this. Remember the shitstorm when Linsey showed up with my girls. I fucking knew they were mine, but the club insisted on DNA. It’s always been that way.
Hell, when Tessa returned with York, Montana didn’t blink, demanding a DNA test. It’s always been that way.
Every brother, every wife, every child of the board is given a DNA test to prove legitimacy. ”
“Fury’s right, Bane,” Storm added. “Even when I got back together with Delany, she and Harper were tested. It’s just the way of the club. Pippen should have been tested before I made him a brother. That’s on me. But now that he is, it needs to be done.”
Leaning forward in his chair, Montana looked at me. “August, can you honestly sit there and tell me you are the only one who fucked that cunt? That you can remember clearly what happened that night?”
Sighing, I shook my head. “You know I can’t.”
“Then we need to be sure. You need to know, because if there is a chance, even a small one, that you are not their father, we need to know.”
“I claimed them.”
“And that won’t change if you’re not their father. Pippen is ours. He wears the Soulless Sinner brand. Amber is his twin. She’s ours too. That will never change.”
The room pulsed with tension, heavy and unspoken.
Each brother’s face was carved in stone—lines of loyalty, betrayal, and years of hard-fought battles etched deep.
I met Montana’s stare, searching for something solid to ground me, but all I found was the certainty that the club’s rules were etched in blood, not ink.
The world outside didn’t get it, wouldn’t get it, but inside these walls, family was forged and proven.
My brother’s words lingered, wrapping around the silence like a noose. Pippen and Amber—no matter what the test showed, they belonged here. I knew that in my marrow, but doubt was a venom, slow and persistent. Fury tapped his knuckles on the table, deliberate, reminding me of what was at stake.
I drew a breath, steadying myself. “Fine. Do the test. But whatever the result, they stay. No one’s voting them out.”
Montana’s lips curled, half in approval, half in warning. “That’s how it’s always been.”
Fury shrugged, voice gruff yet softer than before. “Blood or not, family is chosen here.”
“Now that that’s settled,” Montana sighed. “We have a bigger problem than DNA confirmation. To get Bane away from the Brotherhood, I agreed to trade Meredith for Bane. Morpheus is expecting delivery by the end of the week.”
“Does Reaper know?” Storm asked. “I mean, she is a Doherty. He doesn’t strike me as someone who would give up his own blood.”
“He’s got his own problems at the moment,” Vicious muttered as he glanced at Fury, who seemed to sink deeper into his chair.
“What?” Montana asked, looking at the both of them. “What aren’t you two saying?”
Vicious looked at our Prez and simply said, “You need to call Reaper sooner rather than later.”
Reaching for his phone, Montana laid it on the table before him and hit the call button. He didn’t have to wait long for the call to connect.
“Hang on, fucknuts.” I clearly heard Reaper right before he yelled, “I don’t give a fuck, Bullseye! Go pick a brother and find the motherfucker before he kills anyone else, and someone get me Hawk on the phone. I want my daughter found yesterday!”
“I can go with Bullseye, boss.”
Reaper snarled, “You step one foot out of this clubhouse, Massacre, and so help me God, I will slice off your fucking legs. Ghost, call Kansas and tell him to expect company soon.”
“Kansas ain’t gonna like us just popping into Diamondback country.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck!” Reaper shouted. “I wouldn’t even be going to that godforsaken place if your brother hadn’t lost his fucking temper! Just make it happen.”
With that, we all heard a door slam seconds before Reaper sighed. “You’ve got five minutes before I hang up. What the fuck do you want now?”
“Meredith Doherty.”
“Valhalla? What about her?”
“I’m going to hand the bitch over to Morpheus.”
Reaper growled and then threatened, “You really want to start a war with me you can’t finish, fucknuts?”
“She’s working with Dakota, Max. You remember him, don’t you? Wasn’t he the one kissing your wife? Or have you forgiven him?” Montana grinned as Reaper growled again. “Speaking of brothers, why the fuck are you going to see my baby brother in Oklahoma?”
“Because his VP screwed up big time when he knocked up a child of the Trick Pony.”
“How is that a problem unless the girl was a minor at the time of conception?”
Dead. Motherfucking. Silence.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Montana roared.
“Nope, and the statute of limitations in Oklahoma is twelve years. The kid is barely three. Pence is screwed and looking at doing time.” Reaper sighed and then added, “If that wasn’t bad enough, Slaughter has found himself on the receiving end of Shadow’s bad side, and Kansas needs Ghost to referee before Shadow reverts to his old ways. Plus, I need to talk to Kansas.”
“Why?”
Reaper roared with laughter, then quickly sobered. “That’s none of your fucking business, fucknuts. We are not BFFs. Unless you are feeling magnanimous and are officially giving me your Alabama club, that you technically owe me?”
Montana dropped his head to the table and banged it a few times, cursing as he tried to rein in his temper. Only Reaper could drive Montana to the brink and needle the fucker to death without pushing him over the edge.
Taking a deep breath, Montana lifted his head and sighed. “Fine. Vicious is a dual member, but Fury comes home!”
“Uh.” Fury cautiously lifted his hand. “Not taking my girls away from Linsey, asshole. Or have you forgotten she is their aunt?”
“Hold up,” Vicious jumped into the conversation. “Does anyone care what I think?”
“NO!” Montana and Reaper both said in unison, then Reaper added, “Now, let’s talk about the Alabama club. You know, to pay restitution for your club’s failure to uphold its end of a marker.”
Montana groaned, banging his head on the table once more.