Page 6

Montana

Soulless Sinners’ clubhouse.

Sitting at the head of the table, I nursed a bottle of Hell’s Breath whiskey as my club brothers tried to figure out a way out of this fucked-up mess.

The tension in the room was palpable, and Reaper’s silence did nothing to alleviate the heightened senses of my brothers. Each man had a stake in this, a reason to push forward despite the obstacles blocking our path. Every one of us knew that getting those files was the key to saving Sypher and, in truth, saving ourselves from the shadow of uncertainty and fear that threatened to engulf us.

I leaned back in my chair, allowing the cool sensation of the whiskey to anchor me while I surveyed the room. My brothers wore expressions of determination mixed with frustration, each understanding the gravity of the situation. It was a moment where every decision had to be weighed carefully, every action scrutinized for its potential impact on our future.

Suddenly, the weight of the situation hit me like a freight train. We couldn’t afford to sit around debating endlessly while Sypher’s life hung in the balance.

We needed action, and we needed it now.

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, as we teetered on the edge of a precipice. We had always prided ourselves on being men of action. Men who didn’t back down, who faced the world head-on. Yet here we were, paralyzed by indecision.

When Reaper finally spoke, his voice was low and measured, echoing the gravity of our predicament. “We’re not leaving this room until we have a plan,” he said, setting his whiskey bottle down with a deliberate thud. “Sypher needs us and we won’t let him down.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the room. We all knew what was at stake. Sypher wasn’t just a member of any club. The kid was like family to everyone who knew him.

And in the biker world, family meant everything.

Mercy, my trusted VP, leaned forward, his eyes scanning the faces around the table. “We need to approach this from a different angle,” he began, his voice calm yet authoritative. “We need to make the intern understand that we’re all in this together. That Sypher’s fate affects all of us.”

Fury nodded, his jaw clenched tightly. “Appeal to his sense of loyalty. His sense of duty.”

Payne, ever the skeptic, interjected, “And if that doesn’t work?”

Mercy didn’t hesitate. “Then we order him to do it. If he refuses, he’s out.”

The room fell silent once more, each of us contemplating Mercy’s words. It was a harsh ultimatum, but in desperate times, desperate measures were needed.

Not even Reaper, who sat at the end of the table drinking from his own bottle of whiskey, said a damn word as my brothers all tried to figure out a way to get Pippen, our club’s intern, to hack into Ace’s computer.

Talk about a nut punch.

Ace Franks, Sypher’s brother, had the fucking information we needed to help Sypher, and the stubborn fucker flat out fucking refused to give us the files we needed. Reaper and I tried asking nicely, we tried reasoning with him. Hell, Reaper even threatened to gut the motherfucker, but the stubborn fool still refused, which only told us one thing. Whatever Sypher endured before the building exploded was fucking horrific, and Ace would go to the grave before anyone found out. Which made perfect sense why Ace was so fucking adamant that Sypher be moved back to Tennessee and have nothing to do with the clubs, the Biker Federation, or the underworld ever again.

The tension in the room was palpable. Each brother wore a look of grim determination, but beneath that, I could see the fear and frustration simmering just below the surface. The weight of our predicament and the silence was almost unbearable.

“Clear the room,” I ordered. “I want to talk to Reaper alone.”

The brothers exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern, but they obeyed without question. One by one, they filed out of the room, leaving me alone with Reaper. He took another swig from his bottle, the amber liquid reflecting the dim light of the room.

“Nothing we say is going to work, is it?”

Reaper shook his head and sighed. “No. Kid only cares about Sypher. We know Sypher deviated from the plan because of Dante and that Dante is willing to go up against the world to protect Sypher.”

“You think there is something else going on? Something only they know about.”

Reaper nodded. “Makes sense.”

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. “Then we need to find out what it is. Whatever they’re hiding, it has to be the key to getting those files.”