Page 11

Reaper

Golden Skulls’ clubhouse, Purgatory, California.

Kids ran around happily, laughing while they played with the new toys Santa brought them. My son, Jesse, sat next to Colin as they compared the new bikes they had received. My wife, Remi, her belly slightly swollen with our unborn child, looked radiant as I watched her throw her head back in laughter at something Ink said to her.

It was like life never stopped.

The world kept turning and people kept living.

Yet the only ones who seemed to feel as if anything was off were me and Montana.

All around me, brothers, wives, and children celebrated the season, yet we couldn’t bring ourselves to join them. We kept the circle close. Only those we trusted the most knew the score. If Montana and I didn’t need to be here, we’d still be in the city looking for the kid. I knew he was out there somewhere, and when I learned who took him from the hospital, I was going to gut the motherfucker until all that remained was bits and pieces of shark bait.

“You’re snarling.”

Looking beside me, I smiled as Remi sat down next to me.

Leaning her head on my shoulder, she sighed. “You will find him. I know it.”

“I don’t know how to pretend.”

“Then don’t. Montana is barely hanging on. Tessa is doing everything she can think of to take his mind off what is happening with Danny. The world believes Sypher is still alive, and the table does too. That gives you the advantage. Just play your part and know that whoever took him will eventually make a mistake.”

Wrapping my arm around her, I leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “I never wanted this, babe. That kid is out there, hurt and in pain, and I feel useless. We all do.”

“Sypher knew the score. He knew what could happen. Give him the credit he deserves, Max. He’s strong and smart. If anyone can navigate this situation, it’s him.”

“I just want to know why he changed the plan without telling me. Why would he do that?”

My wife shrugged, getting to her feet. “Gonna have to ask him that when you find him. Until then, you have a part to play, so start playing it.”

My woman was right.

This game wasn’t over, and I needed to keep my head clear. Danny was out there somewhere, counting on me and the others to find him. and when we did, all hell would break loose because if there was one motherfucking hair out of place, I would kill every fucker who dared harm him.

Seeing the time, I stood and nodded to Montana.

It was time for me to go see Emma and for Montana to meet his granddaughter.

It was a beautiful scenic ride from Purgatory to Destiny, California with a view of the Pacific Ocean off to my right on the back of my motorcycle.

The sun began its descent, casting a golden hue over the waves that danced in rhythm with the breeze. The salty air filled my lungs, invigorating my spirit while I navigated the winding coastal roads. Every twist and turn brought new vistas, each more breathtaking than the last. It was moments like these that made me appreciate the freedom and exhilaration of the open road.

As I rode on, the landscape transformed from rugged cliffs to serene sandy beaches. The occasional cry of a seagull punctuated the soothing sound of the ocean’s roar, creating a symphony of nature that was both calming and exhilarating. Passing through quaint coastal towns, I observed the simple beauty of life by the sea, where time seemed to slow down and every moment was savored.

I originally wanted Emma home for Christmas, but the stubborn teenager flat out refused. She was still angry at me and Remi for keeping secrets from her. While I tried to understand that she had a right to her feelings, I couldn’t help but feel that I somehow facilitated her change in attitude. A big part of me still believed she hadn’t forgiven me for everything I put her, Remi, and Jesse through in the past and until she could talk to me without screaming in my face, I had to trust that Logic would somehow work his magic.

About an hour later, I rode my bike into the compound of Disturbed MC and parked it next to the door. Shutting off my engine, I looked at the door where the large black brother, Hannibal, stood, glaring at me.

Yeah, it didn’t take a genius to know that large fucker didn’t like me.

“New friend?” Montana chuckled.

“Shut up, fucknuts.”

Montana threw his head back and laughed when he got off his bike.

Heading for the door, Hannibal refused to move.

Looking up at the beefy fucker, I sighed.

“You gonna move?”

The big guy growled. “You here to take that brat home?”

Sighing, I dropped my head and muttered, “What the fuck did she do now?”

Hannibal scoffed.

“Emma is all of five-foot nothing, Hannibal. Are you telling me you can’t handle my teenage daughter?”

“She’s mean.”

“Yeah well, so am I,” I sneered.

The big guy growled and moved to the side, allowing us to enter the clubhouse.

The second I stepped into the clubhouse, my eyes immediately spotted Emma, who stiffened. I watched while she got up from where she was sitting, flipped me the one finger bird and stormed out of the room like her ass was on fire. The man next to her scooted back his chair and groaned as he got to his feet and followed her.

“Well, that went well,” Montana muttered, his eyes glued to the place Emma disappeared into.

“Where the fuck is she going?” I asked, walking over to where Frost was sitting.

“Probably to wreak havoc somewhere.” Luc, the president of the Disturbed, walked over, carrying his newly adopted son Gage in his arms. “Kid’s a piece of work, Reaper. Logic’s got his work cut out with that one.”

“I still say we whip her ass into submission,” Ivy, Luc’s woman muttered, plopping her ass down at the table.

“Shut it, woman, or I will whip your ass.”

The dangerous woman smiled up at the man. “Promise?”

Looking around the clubhouse, I asked, “Has she been that bad?”

Luc chuckled, placing Gage on the floor only for the young boy to run over to the bar where Trash, one of the club’s enforcers, was petting an orange cat.

“She’s a bitch,” Ivy piped up, then quickly shut her mouth as Luc grabbed her and placed her in his lap.

“Emma’s a typical teenage girl. Well, that’s what Logic keeps telling us, that and something about boundaries. What do I know?”

Taking a seat, I groaned. “Maybe I should just take her home.”

“No,” Logic firmly said, walking back into the main room with Emma, his hand clasped around her arm as he shoved her forward. “Emma has something to say. Don’t you, Emma?”

Looking at my daughter, who stood not a few feet from me, her head hanging low as she sniffed. “I’m sorry.”

“What else?” Logic growled.

“Merry Christmas.”

He took a step toward her and she quickly added, “Thank you for coming. It means a lot to me that you rode all this way just to see me. I am happy to see you and I can’t wait to meet my grandpa.”

I snickered as Montana groaned. “Can we please not use that name?”

Luc chuckled. “What’s wrong with grandpa? I love it when Soleil calls me that.”

“That’s because you are old as dirt.”

“I’m a fucking younger than you, asshole.”

“By three days!”

Getting to my feet, I stepped closer to Emma, and she flinched, taking a step back.

“I miss you.”

“I know you do.”

“I want you to come home.”

Emma shook her head. “I can’t. My head is all messed up. I can’t look at you and not see what you did to my mother. I’m sorry. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth. I know you had no choice, but I can’t get the pictures Angelica showed me out of my head.”

“Remi misses you.”

“No, she doesn’t. She has Jessie and the new baby.” Emma looked up at me, her eyes hardening into slits. “You hoping for a girl?”

“Emma,” I groaned, sitting back down while Montana walked over to my daughter.

“You look just like Bella,” Montana whispered, then added, “She is your grandmother.”

“I look like my mother.”

Montana nodded. “I haven’t met my daughter yet, so I will take your word for it.”

“I never got to know my mother thanks to your fucking father.”

Montana flinched as if she slapped him.

“And that’s all for today, folks.” Logic moved fast, grabbing Emma’s arm before hauling her out of the room. The second Emma was out of the room, I turned to Luc.

“She’s getting fucking worse!”

“It’s going to take time, Reaper. You need to trust that Logic knows what’s best. This was just a bad day.”

“Bad day!” I yelled. “She was fucking mean on purpose. That was not the daughter I know. What the fuck is going on?”

“What did she mean by the pictures Angelica showed her? Is she talking about Angelica Morales? The therapist I sent to help Remi?” Montana asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, only that bitch did more than help. She showed my daughter pictures of me raping Sarah and ones of Petrovitch and Baranov raping Remi. Emma thinks Remi is nothing more than a Russian whore and I am the vilest person on the planet. She blames me for what happened to her mother.”

“Doesn’t she know that the both of you were drugged? That neither of you had a fucking choice?”

“Yeah,” I sighed, running my hands down my face. “I’ve told her, Remi’s told her, Logic’s told her. Hell, everyone’s told her the same damn thing, but she only believes what that bitch showed her.”

“It wasn’t just the pictures,” Logic said, walking back into the room minus Emma. “There was a video. According to Emma, Angelica had a video and insisted Emma watch it.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Montana cursed, getting up from his seat and paced the room.

“And just so you know, Montana, apparently Angelica also had a video of George killing her great grandparents and taking her mother away from Bella. Gentlemen, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but all of your darkest secrets are out and Emma knows them all.”

“Fuck.”

Pippen

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma.

Sitting on the couch with Danika in my lap, we both stared at the Christmas tree. The presents I bought her still lay under the tree, unopened. Some Christmas cartoon played low on the television, though neither one of us were interested in watching it. I didn’t even bother starting dinner because I knew neither one of us would eat it. Instead, I figured if we got hungry, I’d just make us some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches instead.

This was supposed to be our first Christmas together as a family, but neither one of us felt like celebrating anything. The merriment I dreamed of, wished for, was gone, and until he returned, I knew both of us would live in some kind of limbo.

It wasn’t a way to live.

I knew that, but I was tired of pretending to be happy when I wasn’t.

Danika’s small fingers clung to my shirt as she nestled closer, seeking warmth and comfort. Her bright eyes, typically filled with joy and curiosity, now looked dull and lost. I could feel her tiny heartbeat against my chest, a rhythm that echoed my own sorrow.

The silence in the room was palpable, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fireplace. I glanced at the photographs on the mantelpiece, memories of happier times that seemed distant and unreachable. Each image was a stark reminder of what we were missing, of the piece of our lives that felt so achingly absent.

We needed him back. His laughter, his strength, his love. He was the glue that held us together and without him, we were fragments of a family, drifting in uncertainty. I kissed Danika’s forehead, a silent promise that we would get through this together, no matter how long it took.

As the hours passed, the glow of the Christmas lights blurred and the room darkened, but hope lingered like a flickering candle in the night. We would not give up. We would wait for him and when he returned, our hearts would find their way back to joy once more.

King

Silver Shadows’ clubhouse, Diamond Creek, Nebraska.

It was late in the afternoon when I pulled the girls aside to give them each one more present. I hauled Tabby up on my lap and Chrissy and Charlie sat on the couch next to me.

I handed each little girl a gift and watched as they opened them.

“A puppy!” Charlie cried. She hugged the soft, stuffed black and white dog to her chest. “Thank you, Papa King.”

I held back my groan at the ridiculous name.

“A kitty! Look, Charlie, our stuffies can be best friends like us,” Chrissy said, throwing her arm around Charlie. “Let’s go.”

The two little girls took off to play with their new toys. They set the stuffed animals on the floor next to them, quickly forgotten.

I wasn’t offended, though.

The truth was, I bought them for the girls because I didn’t want to draw attention to the present I bought for little Tabby. I held the box while she unwrapped it. Inside was a light brown stuffed teddy bear.

Tabby lifted the bear out of the box carefully. She pulled it tight to her chest and then looked up at me with a big smile.

“Sweetheart, I need you to take extra special care of this teddy bear. Can you do that?”

Tabby looked at her bear and then at me.

She nodded.

“This teddy is special, like you. He carries secrets that no one else can know about. Do you think you can keep him safe?”

She looked at me solemnly and I knew that if Ryder ever found out what I had given his little girl, he might actually kill me. I was taking a chance, but no one other than me would ever know what I hid inside the stuffing of this bear, so Tabby wasn’t in any danger.

“You can’t leave him alone, Tabby. He’ll get scared if he isn’t with you. It’s your job to protect him and keep him safe. Like Mama and Daddy keep you safe.”

I was a fucking asshole, manipulating this little girl and playing on her emotions. She was only three fucking years old, but I knew she wouldn’t tell a soul.

Tabby pulled the bear tight against her chest again and nodded, telling me she would guard the furry toy without question. She wrapped her little arms around my neck and kissed my cheek and I felt about two inches tall.

I told myself I didn’t have a choice. The information Sypher trusted me with needed to be hidden somewhere it would never be found. And God forgive me, but I knew not one single person would ever think to look inside a little girl’s stuffed teddy bear.

It was common as fuck for little kids to have a security blanket or toy. No one would think anything of her carrying around the bear everywhere she went. Especially given the trauma that kept her from talking out loud.

She climbed off my lap and ran to her mother, who tried to hold the bear to look at it, but Tabby hugged it tight and shook her head. When her mother picked her up and set the little girl on her lap, Tabby looked over at me and I winked at her. She rewarded me with a proud smile, letting me know she understood how serious our talk was.

Despite the possible consequences when her father found out what I had done, I knew it was the right thing to do.

“What was all that?”

I looked up at Grace and my heart broke at how fucking beautiful she was.

“What?” I asked innocently.

Grace sat down next to me, and I looked around the room to see if anyone had noticed us sitting together. The guys gave me shit about Grace constantly, but they didn’t understand the repercussions I would face by making her mine.

“You would think you gave that little girl the world with the way she just smiled at you.”

“She’s a sweet little girl that was happy to get a gift.” I shrugged, refusing to look in her direction.

“What are you up to?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I turned to face her and immediately knew it was a mistake. I fisted my hands, hoping to prevent myself from reaching out and hauling her onto my lap.

“Are you coming over later?” she asked quietly, her gaze pinned to the tree. I heard the hope in her voice combined with the fear I would say no.

“It’s not a good idea.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“It’s becoming impossible to keep my hands off you.”

“Then don’t,” she pleaded.

Her words cut through me, and I closed my eyes. It didn’t help. I could go blind tomorrow and I would still see the vision of Grace in my mind. She haunted my dreams as well as every fucking waking thought I had.

“Why do you do this every fucking time?” I growled low, trying to keep myself in check. Everyone in the clubhouse had seen us fight with each other. They did not know that the sexual tension fueled the anger between us.

Hell, maybe they did.

Grace stood.

She looked down at me, her eyes glassy.

“If you knock on my door tonight, I won’t answer.” She turned and walked away. Grabbing her purse from the bar, she walked out the front door and I knew just as much as she did that what she said was a fucking lie.

She knew I would knock on her door, just like I knew she would answer. We would argue like we did every time. Then, I would hold her like I never wanted to let her go.

When I first started showing up at Grace’s in the middle of the night, I slept on her couch. I just needed to be near her. Needed to know she was safe. Now I slept in her bed, holding her through the night.

It tortured us both. And I knew it made me an asshole, but I didn’t fucking care. The tenuous hold I had on my control was fading and if I didn’t do something about it soon, I would say fuck it and take what I wanted.

Consequences be damned.

Montana

Golden Skulls’ clubhouse, Purgatory, California.

The sun was setting on the horizon, casting long shadows that seemed to mirror the turmoil in my head and heart. Each step seemed heavier than the last, as I felt weighed down, burdened by the heaviness of unspoken words and unresolved conflicts. Reaper’s silence was a sharp contrast to the cacophony of thoughts racing through my mind. I longed for answers, for a sense of direction in the maze of uncertainty that lay ahead. But for now, all I could do was follow and hope that wherever he was taking me, however convoluted, it would lead to some semblance of clarity.

“Where the fuck are we going?” I groaned, following him as he stormed out the back door of the clubhouse. I had to admit that I wasn’t good company either. Meeting my granddaughter and learning that she knew every fucked-up detail about our involvement in this life left a very sour taste in my mouth. She was only a teenager and thanks to me and my fucked-up brilliance, I inadvertently put her in the enemy’s path and that bitch used every opportunity to fuck with the mind of a child. For that alone, I wanted to kill the bitch all over again.

This life wasn’t easy and there were rules in the biker world and one of those rules was that kids were off-fucking-limits. While most of the clubs within the Federation upheld that rule, a few didn’t, and the fucking underground sure as hell didn’t, which caused a lot of problems when the Biker Federation had a dispute with another organization. God, the fucking politics of it all was enough to give me a fucking migraine. I still didn’t know why I cared what the table said. I never did what they wanted, anyway.

Maybe that was it.

Maybe the table was more like a guideline, a way for the underworld to stay informed without getting involved. Which was fucking bullshit and the pussy way out.

Stopping dead in my tracks, I said, “I quit. The seat is yours.”

Reaper stumbled and turned to look at me. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I don’t want the seat. Take it.”

Frustrated, the asshole shouted, “Well, I don’t want the fucking thing!”

“One of us has to take it.”

“Then get comfortable and sit your ass down,” Reaper snarked before continuing on to wherever the hell he was taking me.

“I mean it, Reaper. I’m out. No one listens to anyone. Everyone does what the fuck they want, and no matter what’s going on, everyone’s got an opinion. I can’t deal with the table and take care of what needs to be done. It’s impossible.”

“Then why the fuck would I want the job?”

“Maybe they will listen to you.”

Reaper stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me. “Have you even fucking met me? I am the last person you want at the table.”

I looked around the area and sighed. “I’m too old for this shit, Max. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“Well, too fucking bad!” Reaper crossed his arms and faced me, his anger palpable. “You’ll manage, or we’ll all face the consequences together. We’re in this mess, and there’s no bailing out now.”

I shook my head, a sense of dread washing over me. “Maybe it’s time to find someone else.”

“Who? Who would be stupid enough to take the seat? You said it yourself; the table is all politics. Hate to break it to ya, but the biker world is a far fucking cry from politics. We don’t believe in politics. We have our own laws. Our own brand of justice. We don’t give a fuck what everyone else thinks.”

“That’s what I’m saying. We can’t do what needs to be done because the table will interfere.”

“What the hell are you babbling about now? Do what?”

“Think about it, Max.” I steeled my face as I spoke the truth. “The table oversees the underworld. They know all the players. Which means they had to have known about Jane and the Society and all the shit that bitch was doing, and instead of stopping her, they did nothing. The table is just for show, a figment of law and order when, in reality, there is no law and order.”

“Because everyone does what the fuck they want.”

“Exactly.” I nodded. “Max, the table consists of elected heads of every criminal organization. Each has their own agenda, and their primary job is to ensure that nothing interferes with their organization.”

“You think someone sitting at the table is helping that cunt?”

“I do, and the only way to stop her is to get rid of the table. You told me to keep my circle tight. Only those I trust. Well, I don’t trust the table.”

Reaper grinned, and I narrowed my eyes.

“What?”

“Was wondering when you would figure it out.”

I growled. “You son of a bitch! You fucking knew and didn’t tell me!”

“Where’s the fun in that? Can’t just give you all the answers. You’d learn nothing.”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

“You can’t. You need me and you know it. Face it, fucknuts. You like me too much, and I keep you on your toes. You’d get bored without me. Now, let’s go have some fucking fun.” Reaper laughed as he opened a door I didn’t see before.

Entering the small building, I followed the asshole down a dark hall that led to a solitary room.

There, hanging in the middle of the room from meat hooks, were Renaldo Romero and Reed Scott, each man stripped naked, bloody and bruised.

Looking from the soon-to-be-dead men to the bane of my existence, I sneered, “I still fucking hate you.”

“Aw, you love me, and you know it.” Reaper chuckled, walking over to a table and picking up a baseball bat. Slapping it against the palm of his hand a few times, he reached over and pressed play as the sounds of ‘Have a Holly Jolly Christmas’ by Burl Ives rang out throughout the room. Turning back to me, Reaper smiled. “Merry Christmas, Montana.”

And he was right.

It was shaping up to be a Merry Christmas after all.

Saltillo, Mexico.

Laying on the ground hidden in the brush a quarter mile away, I looked through my scope and watched as several cars pulled into the courtyard of a large mansion. Armed men jumped out of the vehicles, looking around the vast area for any danger. They were cautious, scanning the surroundings with trained eyes, their weapons ready for any threat. The mansion stood tall and intimidating, its grandeur contrasting sharply with the tense atmosphere unfolding before it.

The tension in the air seemed to dissipate slightly as the lead guard gave the all clear.

I adjusted the scope, watching Alejandro Vasquez step out of a large SUV along with his wife and two children. His presence confirmed the intelligence gathered. The family appeared calm, oblivious to the unseen eyes tracking their every movement from the concealed vantage point. Alejandro’s confident stride conveyed an air of authority, while his wife and children followed closely, their expressions serene yet vigilant.

My contract was clear.

No survivors.

Taking a deep breath, I steadied my aim, my finger hovering over the trigger. The weight of the rifle felt like a natural extension of my arm, each breath synchronizing with the rise and fall of the crosshairs. I took aim, fired, and watched the woman fall to the ground.

Guards rushed to protect Alejandro Vasquez, leaving his children unprotected. For that alone, I wanted to kill them all. The guards tried to rush Vasquez into the mansion, only to stop when I fired again in rapid succession.

The horror on Alejandro’s face was evident as he watched his two children fall to the ground next to their mother.

Now he fucking knew what genuine pain felt like.

Watching him break free from his guards, running to his dead family, he screamed out.

Yet, I felt nothing.

Not a twinge.

I should have felt something, even if it was redemption, yet I felt nothing while I watched the man who trafficked women and children cry for the ones he cared most about. His guards formed a protective barricade, their weapons at the ready as their boss screamed and howled into thin air.

The sun began to set, casting long shadows over the bloody scene. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the air thick with the stench of gunpowder and death. The guards, realizing the full extent of the massacre, began to retreat, their faces pale and stricken with fear.

Alejandro Vasquez’s cries echoed through the courtyard, a haunting symphony of anguish and despair when he reached into his coat and pulled out his own gun. He placed the barrel at his temple and pulled the trigger. His remaining guards, torn between their duty and their fear, hesitated, their eyes darting between their fallen employer and the darkening horizon.

Slipping away from my vantage point, I moved with practiced stealth, aware that the night would soon cloak the world in darkness. My contract was complete, yet the emptiness inside me remained a hollow void where vengeance should have thrived.

As the darkness enveloped the mansion, I slipped through the shadows, my footsteps silent against the warm ground. The echo of guards’ shouts faded into the distance as I made my way to my bike, but the emptiness within me gnawed at my soul, refusing to be filled by the act of revenge.

Sitting on my bike, my thoughts were a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, struggling to find meaning in the hollow victory. The memory of Vasquez’s face, frozen in terror and pain, haunted my mind, yet I felt no remorse. It was at that moment I wondered if I had finally become the soulless monster that I feared.

Shaking off the inevitable, I reached for my phone and texted.

Contract completed. Alejandro Vasquez and family are dead.