Page 262 of Remorseless

“Is Meggie your daughter?”

“Yes,” he said, giving Seraphina another piece of information to use against him. “Joey…Christopher…Johnnie…they don’t know about her. Rack and K-P do as do Cee Cee, Sharper, and Logan.”

She liked K-P, feared Rack, and hated Logan. She hadn’t a clue who Cee Cee and Sharper were.

In the end, Big Joe gave in to her demands. Not long after, she was brought back to Hortensia and set up in a small trailer near the cemetery, in an area where most of the Dweller girls and some of the brothers resided.

She saw her son weekly. She became a Dweller favorite, passed from brother to brother, sometimes hopping from one bed to the next in the span of a few hours. Christopher resisted more than anyone, though eventually she got him in her bed twice. Rack reclaimed her, then threw her aside again with a broken arm to boot. Joey, rechristened Snake with good reason, still fucked her from time-to-time; she seduced Johnnie on occasion. When the new boys, Lucas and Matthew, later Mortician and Val, arrived, she fucked them, too.

Then, Logan Donovan and Sharper Banks tasked her with shooting up Big Joe. Though Joey didn’t like the idea, he went along with those two devils because they promised it would benefit him in the long run.

That never happened. Instead, she almost lost her life. If Mortician hadn’t taken the bullet meant for her, she would have. When Snake ushered her to the front of the farmhouse to await Tex whom he’d summoned to pick her up, she’d gone back to her trailer, packed her things, and went to her son.

Mystic, president of the Imperials, had long wanted her, so she’d taken her boy, run to Mystic, and pledged her loyalty to him. He’d overlooked her pregnancy. Everyone believed it was Snake’s baby; it wasn’t. By the time they reconciled, she was already in her ninth week. She kept in touch with Big Joe. He even called her one evening to explain to Meggie about what to do for her period.

A few weeks later, they met up and he gave her a thick envelope that Mystic helped her to hide.

When she gave birth to her daughter, Mystic paid her sister to claim the baby and raise as her own. Amy was twenty-three, recently married, and their mother and father’s last shot to be decent parents.

One day, Mystic decided it was a good idea to cross Outlaw and drop the man’s wife into a hole. That stupidity got him killed, so she convinced Randolph to run with her. Her son had turned into a dependable, brave man; he listened to her.

For almost eleven years after Mystic’s death, she’d been Seraphina again. Randolph, however, was, and would always be, a biker. Of all the men to fall in with, he’d chosen Bash. Now, he was in trouble and needed help to escape that lunatic’s control. She’d repeatedly warned Randolph that Bash was bad news.

Did he listen?

No. He was as hard-headed and stubborn as any other Foy. Just as Mystic thought the Death Dwellers could absorb the Imperials, Randolph believed the Scorpions could do the same.

Nosy little shit opened the goddamn envelope she’d had no inclination to read. Then, the little fuckheadstole it and contacted Bash for help with the club in exchange for the information.

Unfortunately, Randolph finally fucked with the wrong motherfucker. According to her boy, Bash was furious. He believed Randolph was holding the real documents back.

Bash was sharp. A lunatic. But perceptive. Randolphwasholding back.

“I know where all the documents were once stored, Mama.”

Thirty-three and still a mama’s boy.

“In the attic of some house in New Orleans. I don’t know if they’re still there and Bash don’t believe me. He’s going to kill me unless I deliver. He said things are out of hand. Some chicks tried to murder his nephew.”

Seraphina wasn’t interested in Bash’s nephew. She wanted to save her son, thenshe’dkill him for putting her in that predicament. She flew to Utah and begged Bash on Randolph’s behalf, and ended up fucking him, Cleaner, Pounder, Tom Harris, and worst of all,Wally, Jr.She hadn’t been so abused in years. The only upshot was she got to care for a girl named Molly. They kept her in a little room, chained to the bed. In Seraphina’s two week stay, they only allowed Molly to bathe twice and only allowed her to eat in exchange for blowjobs.

To save her own daughter, Seraphina had given up Jana, only known to her as ‘Aunt Sera’. She’d begged Bash to allow her to take Molly, but her fuckhead father said no.

She wouldn’t have accepted that if Bash hadn’t warned her she’d forfeit Randolph’s life if she opened her mouth again.

“You have ninety days to get me what I want. Otherwise, I’m chopping off your son’s head. Now, get the fuck out of my face before I kill youandMolly.”

She’d had no choice but to leave, at a loss. At a loss about what was in the envelope. At a loss about how to save Randolph.

She’d lost Mystic on Valentine’s Day. Now, this year, she lost Molly and, maybe, her son.

Two days after she got back from Utah, Randolph returned home, too. She didn’t ask him where he’d been. She’d spent the past hours soaking in Epsom salt and seeing to all her injuries. She also started a regimen of penicillin.

Bunch of diseased dicks.

Until Randolph pulled a folder from underneath his jacket and laid it on the kitchen table, right in front of her.

“What’s this?”