Page 23 of Archangel

He typed as he talked. “She the viper out front?”

“Yep.” I waited to explain further until Shotgun glanced at the initial results.

“The fuck? Colm Flynn? Gloria Turcot is…your wife?” Shotgun shoved back from the desk and stood so fast he nearly knocked over his chair. “Your fuckin’wife? And you and Sonya --”

“Keep looking.” I pointed at the computer screen, interrupting him before he could give me the beating he thought I deserved. “You tell me what you find, then we’ll talk about my beatin’.”

Shotgun gave me a wary look. “How’d you know I was gonna throw you a beatin’?”

I gave him an exasperated look. “‘Cause it’s what I would fuckin’ do.”

He narrowed his gaze at me, but rolled his chair back over to his desk, sat, and got to work without questioning me further. It didn’t take him long to lean in closer to the monitors, that frown on his face deepening.

“The date on this marriage license is fifteen years ago.” Shotgun punched some buttons and clicked his mouse or whatever. “Two-thirds of your pay goes to her. Even what you make here.”

I tilted my head to the side. “Two-thirds?” I frowned. “I thought it was half.” I scrubbed a hand over the back of my neck and groaned.

“Well, sixty-five percent. This started the next deposit after the license was issued. No other withdrawals other than normal bank fees. Only major withdrawals come every May and November. Women’s shelters in the spring, children’s charities in the winter.” He kept typing, clicking, and reading. Then he looked up at me again. “Have you even seen this woman since you married her?”

“Not after my first mission. Not until I came back. I’d been in deep fuckin’ cover. So it was a couple years before I even had the chance to contact her. To be honest, I kind of forgot about her. Yeah, there was a piece of paper with our names on it saying we were married, but she was a drunk hook-up for me. Only reminder I had of her was the missing part of my paycheck. I didn’t need money for myself. I lived the job. Anything I needed was provided for me. It’s why I give so much money away. I don’t need it, and there are plenty of people who do.” I sighed. “Anyway, the last time I talked to her was about four or five years ago. She was supposed to meet me to sign divorce papers, but never showed up. There was no indication anything was wrong, then El Diablo needed me in Argentina and I was gone another year.”

Shotgun stared at the screen for a long time. “So… what you’re saying is, you… forgot? You were married?”

“My life isn’t normal, Shotgun, and I don’t have to explain myself to you. What I want is simple. I want tonotbe married to her anymore. I don’t give a rat’s ass about the money, but she’s not a nice person and I don’t want to give her any more.”

“No, I can see that.” Shotgun squinted at the screen just about the time Eden, his wife, stormed into the room, an angry frown on her face.

“Archangel? Does that woman out there in the expensive-looking car belong to you? Because she says she does and that you’re expecting her to be waiting on you in the common room to introduce her to El Diablo.” Eden huffed and stomped over to me, pointing a finger in my chest. I figured I was going to get yet another dressing down. Fuck my life.

“No,” I said, then shook my head. “Well, technically yes, but not for any longer than it takes Shotgun to make hernotbelong to me.”

“Already done,” Shotgun said, his fingers moving again. “Dissolving your marriage was way easier than fixing the money issue, but I can get Ripper to help. Breaking into a government system, while not out of my reach, isn’t something I want to do without backup.”

“Understood. The money’s not worth exposing you or the club. If it’s too risky, leave it. I’ll go through the old-fashioned way.”

“Nah, I can get it. Do you want anything taken out of her accounts? Any of the money she already has?”

“No. Just stop any more payments from going to her.”

“On it, Angel.”

“Never mind that.” Eden waved Shotgun off. “If that woman belongs to you, bring her inside. That way, when you spank her, no one will come to investigate.” Eden crossed her arms over her chest. “That one is rude. Teach her some manners.”

“Oh, I’m fixin’ to. Just not the kind of lesson she’s gonna want.”

“You need anything else from me?” Shotgun pulled out a lollipop and stuck it in his mouth.

“Yes. I want to know where Gloria’s been all this time. She indicated she had a rich man keeping her up and that they no longer have that sort of arrangement.”

“Yeah,” Shotgun grinned, talking around the sucker. “Looks like her boyfriend is some kind of oil billionaire. It’ll take me a while to find out everything -- they weren’t married, and therefore no legal documents. Give me a few hours and I should be able to find something.”

“Main thing I want to know is if the guy’s dangerous and likely to come looking for her, or would hurt her physically. I’m not taking care of the woman anymore, but I’m not a bastard either.” I took out my phone. “I need to talk to El Diablo,” I muttered.

“And, as luck would have it, Archangel, I’m here.” El Diablo, the president of Black Reign MC, stood at the door to Shotgun’s office and he didn’t look happy. “Come with me, please. My office is quieter.” His light English accent was deceptively calm.

“Good news travels fast, huh?” I sighed and stalked after my president and friend. El Diablo was the man I’d sworn to follow without question for the better part of my adult life. I’d met him in the middle of my first mission and I knew beyond any doubt, he was the only reason I survived. Now, he might be the reason I died right there.

“Indeed.” His clipped tone told me he was,indeed, pissed to shit and back.

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