Page 95 of Disturbed Lucidity

“Yeah.” Montana sighed. “She’s also the sister to a brother in my club. Storm.”

Luc looked around and asked, “Which one of you is Storm?”

“He’s not here,” Montana spoke up. “He stayed in the city.”

“Why?”

Grinning, Montana said, “Let’s just say being this close to the Golden Skulls isn’t in his best interest at the moment. In any case, Storm got word that his sister came and visited you. When she returned to the city, she stopped by the clubhouse to speak with Malice. That’s when shit went sideways. Since then, Malice has been hunting for his genetic material.”

“Father?” I whispered.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t call him that in front of Malice,” Montana advised. “Malice fucking hates the son of a bitch. My club has tried for years to kill that bastard, but Malice learned the fucker was roaming around, killing kids. Brother went off the rails. He has a soft spot for kids, but when he found out that Devlin Scott was looking for you, we couldn’t stop him. It took the entire club to lock the fucker down. Knowing Malice wouldn’t let it go, I had Pippen reach out to Sypher. They tracked Devlin Scott to Destiny.”

“Are you telling me that son of a bitch is in my town?” Luc asked.

Montana nodded. “Yes, and we’re not leaving until that fucker is shark bait. So, either we find a way to work together, or shit is going to get messy real fast.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Luc

I watched Ivy pace the room. There was no talking to her right now. She was deep in her mind. Not even Logic could reach her.

In the end, I told everyone to just give her space.

Her brother watched from the corner of the room, eating an apple, his eyes glued to Ivy.

Everywhere she went, his eyes followed.

It was fucking creepy.

“Ignore him. We all do,” Montana said, getting my attention as he too, watched Ivy pace. “Fuck me. Guess I don’t need a DNA test for those two. They look alike.”

I noticed that too.

I didn’t like it.

Looking at a recent picture of Devlin Scott, I couldn’t get over how much both of them resembled their tormentor. Malice was the spitting image of his father, while Ivy was the softer female version of the sick son of a bitch.

“What can you tell me about this bastard?”

Montana took a deep breath. “Well, he owns and operates a highly exclusive BDSM Club called the Trick Pony in Miami, Florida. He’s a pedophile, rapist, and a sadist. Ain’t happy unless he’s inflicting pain. He likes to torment his victims before he kills them. Gets off on it. He’s been trying to bring Malice to heel for years. Fucker wants Malice to take over the club when the time comes.”

“What does Malice want?”

Montana chuckled. “Malice wants that bastard on the cross while he slowly, methodically, and painstakingly tortures the fucker to death. That’s one of the few things Malice has in common with his genetic material. Malice likes to play with his victims before he kills them.”

I nodded. “Ivy’s the same way. She took on five Los Santanas all by herself before my brothers stepped in. She smiled the entire time. She was toying with them. Sliced a fucker’s hand off just like it was nothing, before she jabbed her knife deep into his throat. Didn’t even blink.”

Shaking his head, Montana added, “They are a pair, aren’t they?”

Looking at the brooding fucker, I asked, “He knows Ivy’s mine?”

“Yep.”

“That gonna be a problem?”

“Don’t think so. Malice isn’t like the rest of us. He only cares about two people in this world. Father Dominic and our club’s bartender, Silver. They have history.”

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