Page 84 of Sypher

“Like I said, we can protect our own.”

“If I tell you, I need you to promise me something. If shit gets too hot, I need your word that you will get her the fuck out of here. You can’t tell anyone. Not even your brothers. Just get her the fuck out of here, fast.”

King slowly nodded.

Getting to my feet, I reached for my switchblade and flicked it open. Slicing down my palm, King slowly stood when I handed it to him.

“Blood pact or I walk out of here and take her with me.”

King took my blade and sliced his hand, before reaching for mine.

Gripping my hand tightly, he growled, “She stays.”

Nodding, we both sat back down, and I began, “Her birth name is …”

King was standing in front of his window, looking out into the dark landscape while I told him everything he needed to know. I left nothing out, giving him the full lowdown on what would happen if anyone discovered who he had in his club. When the last word slipped from my lips, the man hung his head and sighed. “God forgive me.”

“She doesn’t know any of this, King. Not one damn thing.”

“I had Nav investigate her when she showed up. All he could find was that her dad was murdered when she was sixteen and she ran. Then nothing for years before she showed up here in Diamond Creek. She told me about what her father had done. She was the one who killed him. She lived on the streets for a bit until she hooked up with an older guy who eventually beat her and pimped her out and then sold her to one of his johns, who took a shine to her. Then your club found her in Louisiana, but between then and when she showed up here, we don’t know anything. After what she did share, I didn’t press for more. I had reservations after hearing about what she went through, but fuck me, Sypher, she was so fucking adamant. She didn’t want my help that way. She said if we didn’t want her, she would find another club that did. I let her stay. She makes her own rules and the brothers respect them.”

“You couldn’t have known. I erased her existence and buried her identity deep.”

Nodding, King walked over and retook his seat, looking older as the weight of what I told him weighed heavily on his shoulders.

Getting to my feet, I headed for the door when King spoke. “Sypher, does Reaper know?”

Looking over my shoulder, I shook my head. “Only one other person on the planet knows, and if anything happens to her, you won’t have to worry about Reaper or anyone else, because a fury unlike anything you’ve ever seen will rain down hell upon you and this club.”

Leaving King’s office, I walked back into the main room, looking around for Dante. When I didn’t see him, Ryder piped up, “He’s with Sam and Ellie. They are giving Danika a bath and getting her ready for bed.”

Taking a seat at the table he was sitting at with Blade, Jack and Jingles, he passed me a beer.

“Thanks,” I muttered, taking a long swig while I looked around the room.

“So, you’re Sypher? The boogeyman of the biker world everyone is afraid of?” Jack snickered.

Smirking, I muttered, “Guess that’s me.”

Blade leaned forward and asked, “So, is it true you know everything about everyone?”

“Why?” I smirked, looking at the man. “You got something to hide, Justin Cimorelli, born August 12, 1999, at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston, to Kara Gallagher and Eduardo Cimorelli. Parents deceased. From age two, you spent your entire life in WITSEC because your dad got greedy and stole from the Irish Mob. Too bad for your dad, the Irish never forget.”

Blade growled while Jackass grinned. “Do me next!”

Ignoring the goofball, I looked at Ryder, who stiffened. “Awfully quiet over there, Ryder Montgomery Thomas. Got something on your mind?”

“Yeah, I do,” the man sneered, sitting up straighter. “If you’re such a good friend to my wife, then why didn’t you help her?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked before taking a large swig of my cold beer. “Help Ellie with what?”

“When I met her, she was living in a fucking trailer, under an assumed name, hiding from her parents because they wanted her to marry some fuckwit. When they found her, they showed up with papers declaring her mentally unstable.”

Slowly sitting up, I snarled, “What the fuck are you—”

“Danny!” Dante shouted, running down the stairs, causing everyone to stop talking. “It’s all over the news. Satan’s Angels… the Rockefeller Tree Lighting ceremony. Steele killed… Oh God, Danny. Someone shot Montana!”

“Turn on the TV, Prospect,” King ordered, walking into the room.

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