Page 5 of Golden Atonement

One not of my making.

All because Reaper aligned himself with the wrong person.

Now, he was going to learn what that alliance would cost him.

I could have told him if he asked, but no one ever asked me anything.

A small part of me felt for the man.

A very tiny part.

But he’d made his bed, and now he must lie in it. I didn’t assume to know what he was going to deal with. It wasn’t my concern. All I cared about was making sure everything looked legit and his body got to the right people.

The sooner I did that, the faster I could get back to my Sunshine.

My instructions were clear.

Entering the clubhouse, I headed straight for his office, ready to get to work. Walking over to the whore on the floor, I shook my head. Maxim was going to be pissed. She was one of his girls. A plant to coerce Reaper into doing what they planned. Too bad for them because Reaper always did what he wanted. I could have told them that if they asked me. But no one ever asked me shit.

Looking at my former president, I sighed. “You made a deal with the Devil and look where it got you. Why didn’t you just take her and leave?”

Shaking my head, I was about to lift him when I saw his chest move. Placing my finger on his jugular, I sighed. “You lucky son of a bitch.”

Turning away from him, I reached for my phone and dialed Montana. As soon as the phone connected, I stated, “It’s done. She saw and left. But we have another problem.”

“What now?”

“Remi shot Maxim’s whore. The bullet went through her into him.”

“So, he’s dead, then?”

“No. Lucky fucker is alive.”

“Shit,” Montana cursed. “I can’t have him going after her. He will fuck everything up.”

“Not my problem.”

“It will be if this plan goes to shit and we all end up dead. How long before the club wakes up?”

“Five hours, maybe more.”

“I’m sending you help. You will know him on sight. So, sit tight. Where is Remi now?”

“Headed your way.”

“Good.” Montana sighed. “Keep your phone by you.”

I growled, then disconnected the call.

I hated that son of a bitch. I hated everything about the man and his fucking club. The Soulless Sinners were not what everyone believed them to be. They were fucking worse.

A few hours later, I received a text from Montana with more instructions when movement behind me had me spinning as a brother I hadn’t seen in a very long time stood, staring at our president.

“Damn,” he muttered. “I knew shit was getting bad, but I never expected this. What the fuck happened?”

Getting to my feet, I stated, “Doesn’t matter. Just need to make it look legit. Did you bring it?”

“Yeah,” Massacre whispered.

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