Page 9 of Sinner's Malice

Maybe on some level, I was just as sick and twisted as he was.

Maybe I was a glutton for more punishment.

Hell, maybe I was just plain fucking stupid.

All I knew was there was something about the man that called to me. I couldn’t explain it any more than I could tell you why the grass was green, or the sky was blue.

It just was.

“You want to get the fuck out of my way, asshole,” Montana groused from behind the big menacing man, leaning on a pair of crutches.

Smirking, I leaned on the bar and clearly said, “What the hell happened to you?”

Grumpily, Montana hobbled over, reached for the bar, then threw his crutches on the ground. Taking a seat, he sighed.

“Motherfucker shot me.”

Holding my grin, I asked, “Who? Malice?”

“No. Reaper.”

“Ah.” I nodded in complete understanding.

Made sense to me.

Reaper hated Montana, and if my memory served me well, Reaper did threaten to get back at Montana for the club’s fuck up regarding the whole Reaper/Remi situation. If I knew Montana wouldn’t chew my head off, I’d say he got what he deserved.

But I kept that bit to myself.

Reaching for a bottle of whiskey, I grabbed a glass and poured my good friend a double, sliding it over to him.

“Sooo,” I drawled out. “How was California?”

“Shut up, Silver,” the man grumbled, before swallowing the shot.

Malice growled.

Montana and I slowly turned to the non-talkative asshole and glared.

“I know you didn’t just fucking growl at me, asshole,” Montana snapped. “I got shot because you had to go see yoursister. Who, by the way, is way scarier than you. So put a cork in it!”

Malice growled again, storming off.

Shaking my head, I turned back to my friend and smiled. “So, is she really that scary?”

“That bitch fucking needs to be committed. She makes Malice look like a fucking Boy Scout.”

“She wasn’t that bad.” Fury chuckled, taking a seat next to Montana. “Think of it this way, Silver. Ivy is the female version of Malice. Only just more.”

“She took him down with no problem.” Payne smirked, dropping his bags, before reaching across the bar for a cold beer. “Best shit I’ve seen in a long time.”

“No way!” I smiled happily. “Tell me everything.”

“It was glorious,” Mercy spoke up. “One minute she was calm as a cucumber, the next she had Malice on the floor with a knife to his throat. I never would have thought a little thing like her could do something like that.”

“So, Malice has a biological sister?”

“Yep,” Montana groaned, pouring himself another whiskey. “And neither one is happy about it.”

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