Page 139 of Golden Atonement

“There’s more, too,” Pippen cautiously added.

“Of course there is,” Montana sighed, taking a seat as he looked at me. “Do you honestly believe this crap?”

Shaking my head, I growled, “Fuck no.”

“Well, then maybe this will help,” Sypher began. “In the mountains of files Ace had me go through, he found out that Devlin Scott had a fucking half-brother. Does the name Steven Hartley ring a bell?”

Montana’s head snapped up. “Popeye?”

“Yes,” Sypher confirmed. “Steven Hartley was instrumental to George Stone. He knew all of his secrets. But the big one, the reason Popeye is gone, is because George was blackmailing him to keep quiet, because George needed Malice off kilter. He needed Malice on a hair-trigger because he knew if Malice ever found out that he had a hand in the abuse Malice received at the Trick Pony, Malice would kill the fucker, sever his ties to the Soulless Sinners, and run back to Crispin Sinclair. And just so you both know, before the FEDs stormed the Trick Pony, someone accessed the club’s database and downloadedeverything. Someone out there knows everything Pippen and I know.”

I looked at Montana and we both muttered, “Graves.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill that motherfucker!” Montana sneered.

Leaning forward in my chair, I asked, “How do you want to handle this clusterfuck? Because regardless of what’s in those files, I’m not giving up my club.”

“Don’t want your club. I’ve got enough problems already.”

“Well, I hate to pile on...” a familiar voice declared, leaning against the door.

Bullseye slowly got to his feet when Massacre cursed.

Slowly turning in my seat, I stared at the one man who’d had my back from the very beginning.

The one person who knew me the best.

The one person I knew would never fucking betray me.

Smirking, I shook my head.

“You picked a fine fucking time to show up, Ghost.”

“You know me.” My best friend grinned. “I do like to make an entrance.”

“Why are you here, Ghost?” I asked curiously.

“Have an ace up my sleeve so I thought I’d let you know I’m holding a Golden Flush,” he said cryptically. Looking at the man I’d known damn near my whole life, I fucking knew that bastard didn’t play poker and that’s when I realized what he just said.

Grinning, I asked, “Just the one card or the full deck?”

Ghost smirked. “You know me. I play to win.”

“Can we get back to the matter at hand?” Montana griped. “You two can fucking hug it out later. We’ve got bigger problems, like this shit about our two clubs.”

Rolling my eyes, I groaned. “Are you deaf? I’m not giving you my club.”

“I don’t want it!” the man shouted. “Got enough trouble already besides taking on your little pissant boys club. I don’t care what the nerds found. Keep your damn club and get the hell out of mine!”

He was seriously pissing me off.

Looking at the fucker, I growled, “Everyone. Out. Now.”

My brothers moved, leaving the room, along with a few of the Soulless Sinners. The only one who remained was Mercy, who stood next to Montana when the asshole nodded.

Walking past me, Mercy stopped and groaned, “Play nice.”

“No promises,” I replied, never taking my eyes off fucknuts.

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