Page 23 of The Ghost of Rage's War

“Wrath?”

“Yeah, I ain’t authorising that twenty-five per cent increase.”

Volcano opened a door, and Sharp entered the office behind him and thanked God that Volcano’s huge ass body hid his reaction.

Wearing a dirty tank and sitting in a chair, jeans unzipped and getting blown, was Wrath. But it was the tattoo on his chest that made Sharp nearly break cover.

From shoulder to shoulder, there was a tattoo of death: a scene of a graveyard with skulls and bones piled up and dead bodies lying on the ground. And Sharp recognised it even though Wrath wore a mask.

Shit dropped into place. Wrath was another name for anger, and anger stood for Fury.

In front of Sharp, getting his dick sucked, sat Fury, one of the Founders of Rage.

Shock turned Sharp mute for a few moments, and he was grateful the whore was sucking Fury’s cock. Sharp’s skin crawled as he wondered if Fury would recognise him. But Fury looked at him with a disinterested gaze.

“Who’d you off this time?” Fury demanded, looking at Volcano.

“Gut Rot and Tits.”

“No point asking why. Stop killing members.”

“Then tell them not to piss me off,” Volcano snapped.

Fury sighed and glared at Sharp.

Sharp stared right back.

“So, you’re the fucker I’m now dealing with?” Fury bit out.

“Yeah.”

“And Santos wants an increase? Even though he’s hiding in Mexico from Rage and Washington?”

Sharp heard the hate in Fury’s voice. “Yes.”

“What do you think?” Fury asked, wrenching the woman’s head from his cock. He tucked away his deflating manhood as the bitch scurried from the room.

“About what?” Sharp replied.

“The fuckin’ sun rising asshole, what do you think I meant? Can Santos sell an extra twenty-five per cent?” Fury demanded.

“Yes.”

“Well, ain’t you a verbose prick?” Fury said snidely. “You deal with Volcano. He speaks for me. I don’t wanna see you again. Get the fuck out.”

Sharp got to his feet. As much as he wanted to race from the clubhouse and speak to Anderson, he couldn’t. That would raise suspicion, and the asshole he was following out had killed his own brothers and just murdered two people over a dirty clubhouse. Volcano wouldn’t flinch at killing Sharp.

“The extra you requested will be delivered from our next delivery. Now piss off, I got some asses to kick,” Volcano said.

Sharp nodded and escaped.

???

Later that evening

“And you’re certain it’s him?” Anderson asked over the phone.

“Yes. I saw that tattoo plenty of times. And his voice. Fury may wear a mask, but his voice wouldn’tchange that much. Anderson, it was Fury,” Sharp insisted.

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