Page 70 of Sinner's Fury

Fury

“Give me a good motherfucking reason not to shoot you in the head,” Montana seethed as I felt the cold, steel muzzle of a gun against the back of my head.

With deliberate slowness, I extended my arms to their fullest extent, just as Malice emerged from behind me and seized the opportunity to swiftly remove my firearm from its holster. Carefully lowering my arms, Malice, standing silently next to me, offered no response while Payne guided Carly over to my bookshelves, his hand firmly gripping her upper arm.

I fucking knew it was a bad idea coming back here, and this just proved it. There was no way in hell Montana would ever let me just walk out of here without some sort of retribution. The bastard was vindictive like that, but what worried me most was Carly. If he learned exactly who she was, I didn’t know what that fucker would do, and that scared me more than anything else.

“You can let her go, Payne. She’s not armed.”

“The bitch stays,” Montana sneered, never taking his eyes off me.

Glaring at the fucker, I shook my head.

Shit.He was really fucking pissed.

“She’s not a bitch.”

“She’s whatever I fucking call her.”

Shaking my head, I steeled myself for a fucking fight.

“You still haven’t learned your lesson, have you, asshole? Her name is Charlotte.”

“And what lesson is that, Fury?”

“Never judge a book by its cover.”

Leaning back in my office chair, Montana sneered. “So, who is she then? Some piece you picked up on the side of the fucking road?”

“My wife.”

Montana laughed. “Oh, that’s fucking rich. The playboy of the fucking club got married. Brother, I’ve seen you with a different piece every other week. Don’t fucking start lying to me now. You’re already in deep shit. For starters, you fucking shot me.”

I smirked at that.

“I sure as hell did, and I’ll happily do it again if you don’t tell Payne to get his fucking hands off my wife.”

Lowering his gun, Montana challenged me, “You’re lying.”

“She’s my wife.”

“Bullshit.” Montana narrowed his eyes. “Payne, check her for the brand.”

I stayed rooted to my spot, glaring at Montana as Payne carefully turned Carly toward me and pulled down the back of her shirt to expose her shoulder. The fucking second his eyes landed on her back, I smiled at Montana.

“I don’t lie. Now, tell him to get his fucking hands off my wife.”

Payne took a step back, looking from me to Montana when the irate fucker roared.

“I don’t believe it!”

“Fury’s name is tattooed on her shoulder,” Payne easily lied.

I dared not move as I wondered what game Payne was playing at. I fucking knew he saw the Golden mark on Carly’s shoulder, yet he lied and said differently.

Why?

Montana slowly stood, leaning over my desk. “What the fuck did you do, Fury?”

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