Page 162 of Golden Atonement

“Someone better tell me what the fuck is going on,” I seethed, taking my seat at the head of the table. When no one spoke, I slammed my hand down and shouted, “NOW!”

Taking the lead, Phantom explained, “I decoded another file. Only it wasn’t like the others. The information was recent, Reaper. Like gathered months ago.”

“I’m waiting.”

“The file contained information regarding the Mitchell family. Everything, from Carly’s mother spearheading theSocietyto her death. However, there were also pictures of Carly Mitchell, her father, and brother living in Maine.”

“And?”

“Along with more pictures of their house burning down to the ground. Isaac Mitchell is dead, Reaper. He died in the fire. Carly and her little brother are missing. But that’s not the important part. As to why Bullseye is ready to go hunting, that’s because we know who started the fire. It was George Stone.”

“That fucker’s been dead for months now.”

“We know. But he’s clearly in the pictures, and from the timestamp on the photos, he, along with a few other Soulless Sinners and brothers from the Satan’s Angels, killed Carly’s dad and burned the place to the ground.”

“So, they have Carly then?” I groaned, rubbing my hands down my face. God help me. I was not ready to deal with the remaining Satan’s Angels yet.

“No. They don’t,” Phantom stated, sliding a photo toward me. “He does.”

Picking it up, I stared at it before shoving the photo back toward her. I snarked, “Well, this is just fucking great. The one person who knows where she’s at and I fucking killed him. What do you know about him?”

“Shame was born Justin Phillip Peterson, on February 26, 1983, in Brooklyn, New York. He owned and operated Peterson’s Inc., the foremost investigative service in the United States. The man was good too, notorious for finding anything or anyone. There wasn’t a single computer system on the planet he couldn’t get into. The man was a fucking ghost.”

“How good we talkin’?” Matrix asked.

“Better than me and possibly Sypher, and that’s saying something.”

“Gab later. What else do you have?”

“This is the part you’re not going to like,” Phantom warned before she continued, “Flashback time, boys. Justin Peterson is none other than the illegitimate son of Samuel Peterson. The same Samuel Peterson who this club killed during the war with theSociety.”

“The fucking televangelist?” Player asked. “Thought that fucker married Ari’s aunt, then after she died, he married the granddaughter of the Disciples of the Word?”

“The very man. But that’s not the worst part.”

“Jesus fuck, Phantom,” I groaned. “Just get to the point.”

“Shame’s mom was a woman named Carolina Avery Sinclair.”

“Jesus fuck,” I groaned, closing my eyes. “Don’t fucking say it. Please don’t say it.”

“Crispin Sinclair’s sister.”

“FUCK!” I roared, jumping from my chair as Phantom continued.

“Unlike her brother, Carolina wasn’t raised at the Trick Pony. While she was conceived there, their father, Charles Sinclair, took Carolina right after she was born and raised her himself in upstate New York. According to what I found, Carolina had a decent childhood.”

“So, the dad only wanted the girl,” Ink stated.

“Yeah. Seems that was the thing at the Trick Pony. Boys were useless. Girls were gold. Only, I don’t know why.”

“Because women ran theSociety,” I said, raking my hands down my face. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. After this club got involved in taking down theSociety, those fuckers at the Trick Pony were trying to keep it alive. Think about it. Carly’s own mother groomed her from birth to take her place. Solomon and Kitty’s mom, Angela, was part of theSociety. Hell, my own fucking bitch of a mother was part of that shit.”

“But why women?” Matrix asked.

“Who the hell knows?” I groaned, slowly sitting back in my chair. “All I know is I now have a fucking problem, because when Sinclair learns I killed Shame, he’s going to demand retribution.”

“Fucker is a nobody. Why do you care?” Player asked.

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