Page 35 of Sinner's Fury

I could feel it in my bones.

Something was about to go down and it was going to be big.

“I need you to back my play.”

Confused, I looked at the man when I spotted several blacked-out cuts making their way through the crowd. Slowly turning back to Montana, I sneered, “What play?”

“I didn’t have a choice. It was the only way to protect the club.”

Stepping closer to him, I grabbed his fucking jacket and snarled. “What the fuck did you do?”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered as people started screaming and running in different directions.

Shoving him away, I turned and reached for my gun when I spotted Arizona and Dakota rushing Tessa and York away from the crowd as the truth hit me like a fucking wrecking ball.

All the lies, all the backstabbing, all the deceit was for nothing because, in the end, that motherfucker had taken the path of least resistance. Instead of accepting Reaper’s offer of help and doing the right thing by owning up to the club’s failures and admitting his father was behind everything, that son of a bitch couldn’t see past his own fucking ego.

And now it was going to cost him dearly.

“Get the kids out of here, NOW!” I shouted, holding my gun.

“Baby, just look at me,” Vicious said. His voice trembled, laced with fear unlike anything I’d ever heard. Slowly turning toward him, heart-stopping fear laced my body as my eyesfinally saw what scared him. “That’s it, baby. Only me. Nothing else matters. Just me.”

There, standing before the unlit Christmas tree, was Steele, the President of Satan’s Angels, and in his arms was Linsey, with a knife against her neck, and it was in that instant, I fucking knew Montana lied.

He lied about everything.

“Chris,” Vicious implored, as the police officers in the NYPD tried to hold him back.

“I know, brother,” I muttered. I felt as if my world was slowly closing in around me. Linsey was our little family’s entire world. She made everything better. Nothing worked without her. I needed her to survive this, and when she did, I was getting her, Vicious, and the kids so fucking far away from this city and the Soulless Sinners.

“I love you, Gregory,” we all heard Linsey cry as Steele tightened his grip on Vicious’ pregnant wife.

“I love you so much, baby.”

Turning to Montana, I threatened, “She dies, I will fucking kill you myself!”

Ignoring my comment, he aimed his gun at Steele as the NYPD surrounded him and us and roared, “Let her go, you sick fuck!”

Shit, this was bad.

Really fucking bad. Not only did he set this shit in motion, but he was also playing his part beautifully.

No one would believe he had anything to do with this.

Motherfucker was hedging his bets!

“We have you surrounded. Let the woman go!” several police officers shouted.

Steele laughed before licking the side of Linsey’s face, as she whimpered while police officers tried valiantly to hold me and Vicious back.

This was turning into a massive clusterfuck.

A logistical fucking nightmare.

“Steele, you aren’t walking away from this. Let her go!” Crispin Sinclair shouted as he walked over to stand next to Montana, brandishing his own gun, pointed directly at Steele.

What the fuck was he doing here?

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