Page 22 of Sinner's Fury

The air around me crackled with unspoken secrets.

This was not good.

“What the fuck was he into?” Vicious muttered, walking toward a wall.

“I don’t know, but we’re not leaving until we find out.”

An hour or two later, I sat up from the seat I was slouched in. “He fucking knew all along.”

“What?” Vicious looked over at me from Shame’s desk.

“That son of a bitch knew from the moment he joined the club that George was dirty. It’s why he joined. To investigate the old fucker.”

“Why not just go straight to Montana?”

Looking at my brother, I just stared at him.

“Yeah, sorry.” Vicious smirked. “My mistake.”

“Anyway, from what I can tell, Shame was compiling information, but to what end?”

“More like for who?” Vicious corrected, getting up from where he was sitting to hand me a printout. “I found evidence that he was talking with someone. Whatever Shame was into, he wasn’t loyal to the Soulless Sinners. I also found photos of you and Davina hooking up at your place.”

“Excuse me?”

Vicious nodded. “Yeah. He also has records and information on every member of the club from before he even joined. Shit, man, I found information that he knew about Tessa being pregnant, and I found pictures of her leaving the hospital with York. Montana will blow his fucking fuse when he finds out a brother knew and didn’t tell him.”

Taking the paper, I scanned it and frowned.

What in the hell did we just stumble into? Looking around the apartment at all the photos on the wall, a picture caught my eye.

Laying the printout on the table, I got to my feet and walked over to the far wall.

“Vicious?”

“Yeah?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought this fucker died in a shootout with Sergio Pavlov several years ago.”

Walking over and standing next to me, Vicious’ brow furrowed as he looked at the picture I was talking about.

“He did. Ghost was there. Witnessed the entire thing. Why?”

Ripping the photo off the wall, I turned to my best friend, held up the photo, and said, “Then explain the date on this photo to me.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Vicious roared, ripping the photo out of my hand as he stiffened, looking around the apartment. “What the fuck is going on here?”

I didn’t know how to answer that, and frankly, I was damn near positive I didn’t want to know. I knew we couldn’t take this shit to the board. Montana would lose his fucking head.

More importantly, it would cause a ripple of distrust within the club.

“Vicious, call Sypher.”

“I can’t. Montana still hasn’t agreed to the joint club thing. I do that and he finds out, he will take my brand. You know that.”

“What I know is, Montana is too fucking busy with those damn ghost files to give a damn about anything else. And I’m pretty fucking sure I know where they came from. Look around this place, Vicious. Everything is here. I’d bet the fucking farm that it was Shame. What I don’t know is why. With Reaper fucking with Montana’s head, that asshole won’t think clearly. We show him this shit, and it will start a war.”

“I call Sypher and I will too.”

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