Page 28

Sypher

September 19, 2024, New York City,

It had been a few weeks since the shit went down at the Soulless Sinners’ clubhouse, where Reaper played his part beautifully in front of a blissfully unaware Montana that the Golden Skulls and the Soulless Sinners were connected. Even better, it seemed Montana didn’t give a shit and concentrated on his own ghost file problem.

While Reaper had his work cut out with Montana, I had my hands full with compiling membership data from the Trick Pony and locating them, while working in conjunction with my current client list that was already demanding enough.

“Alright, King, I finished running the diagnostic testing on the system and everything looks good. If anyone tries to breach the Sons of Hell compound, every brother will receive an emergency alert on their phones. Scribe did a good job installing all the new cameras in the nursery, and I had no problem adding them to the alert program. If anyone so much as sneezes funny in that room, you will get the alert.”

“And the other matter?”

“I’ve looked into the Rosewood High athletic football program and nothing is amiss. Everyone checked out. Gunner did his due diligence.”

“So, you found nothing?”

“No, I said the football program checked out. As for the school faculty, I found a few discrepancies that I’ve already sent over to Mike for further investigation.”

“Anything I need to worry about?”

“Not at the moment, but I’m sure Mike will keep you informed.”

“Thanks, kid. Send me the bill, and I’ll take care of it immediately.”

“Will send it by the end of the day. Later.”

Disconnecting the video conference, I made a quick note to the Sons of Hell account before dialing my next client—the Biker Federation.

Like the Table, which comprised all the top heads of every underground organization around the world, the Biker Federation consisted of specific biker clubs chosen to represent a particular region. Kind of like regional zones in a way. There were five of them in the United States, and while most clubs did whatever the fuck they wanted, twice a year, the five chosen clubs would get together and talk about everything. Mainly, they fucking partied, drank, and fucked anything with two legs, but hey, that was the biker life. And it was my job to set up security for this weeklong party.

Setting up a time where all five presidents were available to take five fucking minutes to discuss logistics was a veritable nightmare, even more so for the hosting region, which this year just happened to be the Southeast Corridor—Gator’s territory.

“ Laissez les bon temps rouler, Sypher !” the drunk French-Cajun president of the Bourbon Kings slurred while he smiled into the camera.

I liked Gator, I really did, but the man had a few screws loose.

“Hey, Gator, I’m still waiting for the other calls to connect.”

“No problemo!” The man grinned as he leaned back in his chair, giving me a clear view of a bright red head bobbing up and down between his legs.

Rolling my eyes, I continued on with other matters when Lucifer Hawk, president of Disturbed and the head of the West Region, connected his call.

“Jesus fuck, Gator,” Luc growled, shaking his head. “Warn a fucker first!”

Gator smirked, threading his fingers through the woman’s bright red hair. “Say the word, you handsome devil, and I’ll send Jolly to visit you.”

“You want her back in pieces?” Luc deadpanned. “Because that’s exactly how she will be returned after my woman gets done with her.”

“Oh, mon Cher ,” Gator groaned. “I do love a feisty woman. Gets me hard every time.”

“Yeah well, get your own feisty woman and stay the fuck away from mine.”

“I’m fucking here,” a rusty Texan voice sneered. “You got five fucking minutes and then I’m leaving.”

Turning to my screen, I acknowledged Zeus, the president of the Gods of Mayhem and the head of the Southwest Region.

“ Mon Cher Zeus!” Gator happily greeted.

Zeus just growled and ignored the annoying Cajun.

“Make it quick, kid, I’ve got shit to do today,” Montana said when his face appeared on the screen, only for him to shout moments later as Gator grunted loudly and his body jerked.

“JESUS FUCK, GATOR!”

Smiling like a fucking idiot, Gator stood up right in front of his damn camera, showing everyone his semi erect cock as he helped Jolly to her feet. The beautiful naked woman smiled and leaned up to kiss Gator on his cheek.

“Thanks for breakfast, Gator.”

“My pleasure, mon Cher . Anytime.”

“Fuck, Gator,” Luc sighed, shaking his head. “You pierce that dick anymore and it will start spraying like a fucking sprinkler system.”

Looking down at his dick, Gator smiled. “ Non, Cher , I’ve got a spot here I’m saving for my lady love. Gonna have her lips tattooed right here,” the fucker said, lifting his cock and pointing to the underside right below the bulbous head.

“And who the fuck would be crazy enough to take on your stupid ass?” Zeus asked.

Gator grinned. “The perfect woman with just a little bit of the Devil in her.”

“Well, good luck finding her,” Montana snarked then asked, “Can we get on with this shitfest? I’ve got problems to deal with.”

“Just waiting on King,” I spoke up.

“Fucker better hurry.”

“I’m fucking here. Shut up,” King, the president of the Silver Shadows and head of the Midwest Region, barked. When King started his own chapter and moved to Nebraska, Morpheus wasted no fucking time passing off the baton to King, refusing to deal with biker politics or Montana’s snarky ass ever again.

Jumping right into business, I took control of the meeting. How I got roped into being the level-headed third-party emissary was beyond me. I learned early on that if I didn’t put a stop to the fucking snarky remarks and comments, these fuckers would take over the meeting and it would turn into a free for all and nothing would get settled.

“Gator and the Bourbon Kings are hosting the Biker Federation summit this July. So mark your calendars. Gator, I will send Juju a list of things he needs to accomplish before the summit happens. Make sure he completes it. Everyone is required to attend this year as the principal topic for discussion is the Brotherhood of Bastards and if the Biker Federation should sanction them.”

Everyone groaned, including Montana. “I say we just vote now and send a few of the clubs to take care of them. Fucking tired of their shit, and Morpheus is seriously pissing me off. Fucker never listens to anything I say.”

“No one fucking listens to you, asshole.” Zeus laughed.

Luc added, “Bet the fucking farm whoever we send doesn’t get within a hundred yards of the Brotherhood before those bastards take them all out. You’re closest to them, King. Anything new on the Brotherhood front?”

“No,” King admitted, sitting up. “Fuckers have been quiet. Too fucking quiet. Gut’s telling me they are gearing up for something big. Been in this area for five years now and this is the quietest they’ve been.”

“You think they have something to do with that drug problem you have going on in your area?” Luc asked.

“No,” King growled, rubbing the back of his neck. “From what we have gathered so far, we believe it’s some preppy pussy that can’t get a woman any other way. At least I hope that’s it, because I can’t handle much more.”

“Say the word and I can send Indigo your way. He’ll find out who’s doing what and take care of it,” Luc offered.

“Thanks, but for right now I think we’ve got it handled. If I need help, I’ll call.”

“Uh,” Zeus piped up. “Where the fuck did Gator go?”

Groaning, I looked at my screen and sighed, only seeing the chair the man was previously sitting in, and just like that, the meeting was over before it even started as the remaining men clicked out of the meeting.

I fucking hated bikers sometimes.

A knock at the front door disrupted my train of thought. Looking over my shoulder, I noted the time. I knew it wasn’t Dante because he had his own key, so that only meant someone was here without an appointment. I didn’t care who it was, I needed them to leave. I didn’t have time to sit and chat with anyone. My program finished compiling the list of names Reaper and the others needed. It was what they had been waiting for, and I couldn’t deal with any interruptions. The faster I could sort them by importance, the faster I could hand the list off and start concentrating on the next phase of my plan. I still had so much to do, and time was closing in on me fast. I knew I was getting close to discovering who Pandora was and wiping that bitch off the face of the earth.

I wasn’t lying to Reaper when I told him I wanted that bitch dead. She had become my sole focus since Dante told me his truth. The visceral need to see that cunt suffer overrode all logical thinking until only the overwhelming elemental need for retribution encompassed everything around me. I now knew what Reaper truly felt for Remi. It was a disturbing, consuming, prodigiously immense feeling that threatened to rob me of my own sanity.

They knocked again.

Grumbling, I got to my feet and stormed over to the door, throwing it open I found Crispin Sinclair on the other side. Ignoring the fucker, I tried to close the door in his face when he stopped me.

“We need to talk.”

Walking away, I sneered, “Got nothing to fucking say to you.”

He closed the door.

I fucking knew he wouldn’t leave.

“It’s about Dante.”

Rounding on the motherfucker, I got in his face. “You don’t get to say his name. Ever. In fact, I don’t want you near him ever again. What you did to him at that fucking club was cruel and you fucking know it.”

“Yes,” Sinclair simply said without inflection. The man was a fucking robot. He showed no emotion, nothing. It was like looking into the void. I couldn’t tell if the fucker meant what he said or if he was just saying what I wanted to hear. “I will forever regret my actions.”

“Go play your mind games somewhere else, Sinclair. I’m already playing my own game.”

“I know, and I’m here to help you.”

“Don’t need your fucking help. Go away.”

“How bad do you want her?”

Narrowing my eyes, I rounded on the son of a bitch and stepped closer, getting in his space. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Moving around me, Sinclair walked over to one of the couches in the living room, unbuttoned his coat and sat. “I know all about you, Danny Franks. Son to Roxanne and Lee Roy Franks. Youngest of four brothers and the brains behind the Golden Skulls and the downfall of the Society . You have a remarkable mind, Danny. You remember everything you see or read. Your eidetic and photographic mind is a veritable treasure trove of information, isn’t it? I know why everyone values your discretion because you never reveal what’s floating around in that wonderful brain of yours. I’m not a betting man, Mr. Franks. Never have been. I prefer to make my own odds, yet something tells me with what you have in your head, you could easily bring down the entire world to its knees with one word. That makes you the most dangerous man on the planet.”

“Get to the fucking point.”

“I’m here to offer you your greatest desire on a silver platter.”

Growling, I crossed my arms over my chest. “You don’t give shit away for free, Sinclair, so get to the fucking point fast. I’m losing my fucking patience.”

“That’s what I like about you, Mr. Franks. You don’t mince words.”

“I’m waiting.”

“How badly do you want Pandora?”

“Bad.”

“Enough to walk away from the very thing you love the most?”

The moon hung high, its silvery glow reflecting off the slick, rain-streaked streets as I weaved in and out of traffic, tires squealing, taking me out of the city I reluctantly called home. The scent of exhaust fumes and rain filled the air. The city that never slept pulsed with vibrant, chaotic energy. The sounds of car horns and distant sirens blended with the laughter spilling from open doorways, creating a symphony of urban life, even as a palpable unease hung in the air. Their laughter echoed through the air, a carefree sound that belied the grim realities of their existence. A sense of freedom tangible in every move. The fact was, there were dark, nefarious demons lurking in the shadows, their eyes gleaming with malice, just waiting, biding their time to strike fear into the hearts of the most unassuming individual. Safety was a nonexistent commodity. An absolute that no one was immune, especially with the present threats and dangers.

Not from what I now knew.

Everything changed with what Sinclair told me. I knew he was right. It was all there in my head, but I never put the pieces together. That was on me. Now it was time to accept the inevitable. My plan was futile, non-existent.

Nothing I did would erase the damage. All I could do was control the fallout and hope when the dust settled, those I cared about were still alive to see another day. There was no stopping the war. I knew that now, and the collateral damage would be great.

Memories flooded my mind—years of laughter echoing in my ears, the feeling of brotherhood warming my heart, the comfort of family enveloping me and the pure joy lifting my spirit. A lifetime supply, enough to see me through every hardship and feast. Each memory held a special significance, a cherished gem adding its unique brilliance to the larger mosaic that constituted the beautiful and intricate tapestry of my life’s experiences. Yet, interwoven with those memories were my dreams, once so vivid and full of promise, now tinged with the bitter realization of a future forever out of reach unless I found another way.

Dear God, please let me find another way.

With the horizon stretching endlessly before me like a canvas of infinite potential, I watched the hours slowly, almost imperceptibly, pass by, each moment a testament to the possibilities that lay ahead. Under the cloak of an inky, star-studded night, countless celestial bodies shone like distant beacons, their twinkling lights serving as a divine guide, illuminating the path forward as a new plan slowly began to formulate in my mind.

A resurgence of freedom, untamed and boundless, coursed through my veins like a powerful current, invigorating every cell of my being and leaving me feeling a renewed sense of liberation. Much like an endless expanse of open road, life was characterized by its unforeseeable and often convoluted path, rife with unexpected challenges and twists, but at its core, it remained a remarkable adventure that should be appreciated in all its complexity if I could handle it.

With the first light of dawn breaking, painting the sky in delicate hues of pink and orange, a decision solidified within my mind.

With firm resolve, I turned and headed back home, the weight of my decision settling on my shoulders. My return journey was slower and more deliberate, allowing for a more measured pace and a chance to reflect on what I was about to do. I retraced every plausibility and left nothing to chance, ensuring the outcome at all costs.

Only one person would know the truth.

The fewer people that knew, the less I could hurt.

Pulling up in front of a large house, I found him standing there in the darkness, watching me. Dismounting, I removed my helmet while the first rays of the sun touched my face, a warm and gentle reminder that no matter what happened next, the sun would continue to shine down on those I cared about most.

“You sure about this, kid?”

“No, but I don’t have a choice.”

“You do this, I won’t be able to protect you for long. When word gets out, you will become the most hated and hunted person on the planet.”

“I know.” I sighed, looking around.

“What do you need from me?”

Looking at the man my father trusted and loved as a blood brother, barely holding my shit together, I asked, “Promise me you will protect them, Popeye.”

Pulling me into a hug, I grasped the back of his leather cut, finally letting go of everything while he held me tight and whispered, “Been protecting them my whole life, kid. Not gonna stop now.”