Page 62 of Sinner's Fury

Stepping out of the vehicle, I didn’t even make it a step when the president of the club, Kingston O’Rourke, also known as King, spoke.

“You gonna bring heat down on my club?”

“That’s not my intention.”

“Never is,” King growled, shaking his head. “How many of you?”

“Two adults and four kids.”

King nodded, then snapped his fingers as a woman rushed over.

“Amber, help the woman get the kids inside. Movie night.”

“Sure thing, King.”

“You two, come with me,” King ordered firmly.

With no choice, I followed.

“You’ve got the entire underworld looking for you, Fury,” King stated as he took his seat at the head of the table. Kingston O’Rourke started this chapter of the Silver Shadows roughly five or six years ago, taking with him a select group of men who wanted more than the life of a 1% club. Unlike their Mother Chapter in Arkansas, the Diamond Creek Chapter was legit. An honest-to-God motorcycle club that straddled the line occasionally. It also helped that Kingston O’Rourke’s big brother, Declan O’Rourke, was the town sheriff. Overall, the Diamond Creek Silver Shadows MC was a decent group of men who wanted something better in life. That was something I could get behind. “If I had half a fucking brain, I would turn you over to Montana and wash my hands of you.”

Sitting up, I glanced at Carly, who stiffened and was about to interject when King held up his hand. “But since I don’t take orders from your prez, you both are safe here. Just tell me one thing. Is what’s happening in New York gonna spill over into my territory?”

Sighing, I rubbed my hands down my face and spoke truthfully. “It might. It’s a clusterfuck back home. No other way to describe it. We just need a place to lie low for a day or two. I noticed a tail the moment we left Chicago.”

“What?” Carly gasped as my hand tightened around hers, reminding her to stay quiet.

“Any idea who?” the vice president of the club, Cash asked.

Shaking my head, I answered truthfully, “Fuck no. Could be one of my brothers, the Irish Mafia, anyone. I didn’t leave on the best of terms, if you catch my drift.”

“The Irish Mafia,” King growled, stiffening in his chair. “What the hell do they want with you?”

“I just recently learned that I’m the grandson of Casper O’Malley.”

Carly’s head whipped to mine.

Yeah, I forgot to tell her that.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” a brother roared, jumping to his feet. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! Is there a fucking family reunion I wasn’t aware of?”

“Blade, shut the fuck up and sit down,” King commanded, before turning to another brother and saying, “Ryder, tell Billy to go get Beck and bring her over here. Until we know who is following him, I want her inside the gates. Then get Ellie and the girls, too. Everyone stays here tonight.”

“Are you serious, King?” Blade sneered. “This isn’t a fucking coincidence, and you fucking know it.”

Looking between the two, I asked, “What’s going on?”

King took a deep breath and said, “I just learned today that Braesal O’Malley is my brother.”

“And my fucking old lady is O’Malley’s niece.”

Shaking my head, I laughed. I just couldn’t anymore. This shit was too much. No one was who they thought they were, and everyone was fucking connected. As confusing as it was, it fucking made sense, because no one knew jack shit about anything.

“You think this shit is funny!” Blade shouted. “That motherfucker killed my parents.”

Shaking my head, I took a deep breath and said, “No, this shit isn’t funny, but you have to admit, everyone’s family seems to be coming out of the woodwork fast.”

“I don’t have to admit shit,” Blade snipped, sitting back down. “It’s not my fucking family.”

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