Page 76 of Sypher

Memories flooded my mind—years of laughter echoing in my ears, the feeling of brotherhood warming my heart, the comfort of family enveloping me and the pure joy lifting my spirit. A lifetime supply, enough to see me through every hardship and feast. Each memory held a special significance, a cherished gem adding its unique brilliance to the larger mosaic that constituted the beautiful and intricate tapestry of my life’s experiences. Yet, interwoven with those memories were my dreams, once so vivid and full of promise, now tinged with the bitter realization of a future forever out of reach unless I found another way.

Dear God, please let me find another way.

With the horizon stretching endlessly before me like a canvas of infinite potential, I watched the hours slowly, almost imperceptibly, pass by, each moment a testament to the possibilities that lay ahead. Under the cloak of an inky, star-studded night, countless celestial bodies shone like distant beacons, their twinkling lights serving as a divine guide, illuminating the path forward as a new plan slowly began to formulate in my mind.

A resurgence of freedom, untamed and boundless, coursed through my veins like a powerful current, invigorating every cell of my being and leaving me feeling a renewed sense of liberation. Much like an endless expanse of open road, life was characterized by its unforeseeable and often convoluted path, rife with unexpected challenges and twists, but at its core, it remained a remarkable adventure that should be appreciated in all its complexity if I could handle it.

With the first light of dawn breaking, painting the sky in delicate hues of pink and orange, a decision solidified within my mind.

With firm resolve, I turned and headed back home, the weight of my decision settling on my shoulders. My return journey was slower and more deliberate, allowing for a more measured pace and a chance to reflect on what I was about to do. I retraced every plausibility and left nothing to chance, ensuring the outcome at all costs.

Only one person would know the truth.

The fewer people that knew, the less I could hurt.

Pulling up in front of a large house, I found him standing there in the darkness, watching me. Dismounting, I removed my helmet while the first rays of the sun touched my face, a warm and gentle reminder that no matter what happened next, the sun would continue to shine down on those I cared about most.

“You sure about this, kid?”

“No, but I don’t have a choice.”

“You do this, I won’t be able to protect you for long. When word gets out, you will become the most hated and hunted person on the planet.”

“I know.” I sighed, looking around.

“What do you need from me?”

Looking at the man my father trusted and loved as a blood brother, barely holding my shit together, I asked, “Promise me you will protect them, Popeye.”

Pulling me into a hug, I grasped the back of his leather cut, finally letting go of everything while he held me tight and whispered, “Been protecting them my whole life, kid. Not gonna stop now.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Pippen

November 3, 2024, Soulless Sinners’ clubhouse,

When I woke up this morning, I knew something was wrong.

I could feel it. I just didn’t know how to describe it or what it meant, but whatever was coming was about to change the fabric of everything I knew. For weeks, Danny had been distant, barely speaking and avoiding eye contact. He was unusually quiet, his eyes distant and clouded, and though something clearly troubled him, he refused to talk about it. Each time I tried to bring it up, he skillfully deflected the conversation by either ignoring me, steering it in a different direction, or he would fuck me senseless. I didn’t mind the last part, but that subtle unease blossomed into a suffocating dread that squeezed my heart, stealing my breath and filling me with a chilling fear.

He was pulling away from me.

I knew it.

I just didn’t know why. The only thing I knew for certain was his unwavering commitment to others, as he spent hours upon hours working diligently at his computers, tirelessly ensuring that everyone else’s needs were met before his own. He’d often take off on his bike for hours when not working, enjoying the feel of the wind, and return exhausted and worn out. What he did or where he went during those times, I didn’t know.

Something had to give soon because I couldn’t take much more. Inside the clubhouse, a palpable tension hung in the air as everyone, on edge and jittery, nervously awaited theinevitable next event. They felt it in the hushed whispers and hurried glances—something significant loomed, yet the absence of a clear objective made any preparations feel futile. The club persistently bombarded me with questions to which I had no answers, and even if I possessed some information, I was unsure of its trustworthiness and validity. I wasn’t like Danny. I didn’t have access to the resources he did. My area of expertise was more focused on practical, hands-on technology rather than complex, analytical algorithms. I was able to research and dig into a number of different avenues, but it took me a significant amount of time to uncover the actual truth. Unlike Danny, my brain processed information differently, and instead of seeking help from the one person with the resources and expertise, the Soulless Sinners exhibited a blatant and unacceptable refusal to cooperate.

Okay, well maybe not all of them, but one did.

From inception, Montana had to have things his way. Although it was possible that his inherent disposition played a role, the fact remained that even an animal confined to a cage showed a capacity to adjust to its surroundings over time.

Not Montana. It was his way or the fucking highway.

I understood Montana didn’t trust Reaper or anyone really, for that matter. In Montana’s mind, his motivations and the actions he took were entirely justified; however, the reality was that he was far more akin to Reaper than he had ever realized or admitted to himself. Neither man exhibited honesty nor forthrightness; in fact, both were demonstrably dishonest and evasive in their dealings. Driven by their own unique agendas, each president was prepared to use any method, no matter how questionable, to secure their goals. The problem was their callous disregard; neither man showed an ounce of empathy for those caught in the crossfire, their suffering unnoticed amidstthe chaos and bloodshed. At the rate they were going, when the dust settled, there would be no one left.

There was no winner in a war. Oh, they could win a battle, but both would lose the war, and even I knew there was a war coming. All the signs pointed in that direction, and if the two presidents didn’t get their heads out of their asses soon and find a way to work together, this war would cost them more than they ever bargained for.

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