Page 45 of Golden Atonement

Sitting on my bed, I watched the news.

“Just south of Vegas, a campsite was discovered early this morning, with the remains of five individuals who are confirmed to be affiliated with the Satan’s Angels Motorcycle Club. The bodies had been torn apart and their limbs hung in the surrounding trees, while their heads burned in a fire pit. The authorities believe they are looking for a sadistic serial killer. They’ve brought in an FBI task force.”

Hanging my head, I slowly stood and turned off the television. Walking over to the closet, I grabbed my bag, placing it on the small bed. I opened it up and grabbed a clean shirt, quickly putting it on.

Reaching for my phone, I called the one person who could get me to Oklahoma the fastest.

I knew those fuckers wouldn’t stop.

The time had finally come.

I knew it would when those bastards showed up at my clubhouse demanding I hand over my brother. They were like cockroaches, infesting everything around them.

“Yeah.”

“Call Sypher and have him get me on a flight to Lawton, Oklahoma. I’m heading to JFK now,” I ordered, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

“Reaper?”

“Now,” I growled. I heard the sound of fast clicking.

Making my way out of the rectory, I didn’t bother looking for the priest. He’d done all he could. I tried telling him my damned soul wasn’t salvageable, but the stubborn man wanted to try.

So I let him.

I figured if a godly man couldn’t save my soul, then no one could.

“Kid got you a private jet that will take you straight to Lawton. It will leave when you are onboard. There will be two bikes in the hanger for you and Sandman.”

“Where is he?”

“Where do you think? It’s all over the news, man. Sypher is doing everything he can to keep that mute fucker off the FBI’s radar.”

“Where?”

“Got word moments ago, he crossed the border into Oklahoma.”

“Good. He and I will take care of the Satan’s Angels,” I said, slipping into the cab that pulled up to the curb. “You just make damn sure my wife stays safe until I arrive.”

“Tell me this is almost over.”

I smirked when the cab pulled away from the curb.

“I’m just getting started.”

February 15, 2024

Remi

Several weeks had passed since I talked with Ghost and since then, I tried hard to make sense of everything while the growing threat of Satan’s Angels loomed overhead. In the last few days, tensions had grown within the Diamondback clubhouse. Brothers with itchy trigger fingers struggled to maintain their composure.

With this club’s history, it was understandable.

None of them wanted a repeat of the massacre that decimated their club several years ago. While some brothers survived, they still felt that day painfully, like it had just happened.

“This is crazy. They want me because Sandman is my brother-in-law!” I shouted at Kansas and his brothers, Dakota and Arizona.

“No,” Dakota growled, leaning against the back wall in Kansas’ office. “They want you because you are the wife to the President of the club. And before you say it, they don’t give a damn if the two of you are estranged. The fact is, Remi, if Satan’s Angels get their hands on you, you know damn well that Reaper will tear apart this earth to get you back.”

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