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He gently kissed me on the mouth, to not scratch me with his beard. Not that I minded. I loved the feel of his beard on my body. Our tongues darted and danced together. He licked up at the roof of my mouth, as I licked at his teeth and beneath his tongue. I loved that he shared everything with me. He was not shy personally and the way he gave everything told me he was a deeply passionate man.
To my surprise, I sensed an urgency in him, a need I hadn’t seen before. I’d only known Vicious for a few months, but in that time, he was usually one of the calmest brothers. Nothing seemed to ruffle his feathers. “Gregory?”
“Just let me have you for tonight, baby.”
That was a cryptic thing to say.
Unsure what he meant by that, I nodded. “Okay. Take what you need.”
His primal need took over as an urgency fueled his need and I succumbed to him.
Fifteen
Vicious
Sitting in the soft chair next to the bed, I watched her sleep. My Linsey. The love of my life. She was everything I wasn’t. Soft, gentle, loving. The perfect woman and for tonight she was mine because when she found out what I was going to do, she would hate me forever. I still couldn’t believe I was even considering it. But for her, I would do anything. I needed the Soulless Sinners’ help to make her safe. She needed their protection. To ensure her protection, they required my allegiance. Not as a club member, but as a board member.
I would become one of the Soulless Sinners.
An unknown. When called upon, I would drop everything to do as the club instructed. I knew how the board worked. Seen it personally. Unlike the other club members, it was the brothers that made up the board, who were the real Soulless Sinners. On the outside the club was almost like any other motorcycle club. They rode together, partied together, fought together, but it was the board members, those particular brothers who lived in the darkness, that made the Soulless Sinners who they were. They were the ones who instilled fear into every man they crossed. And to become one of them, I needed to kill a man I once called a brother. A man who was married to my woman’s best friend. The same woman who was currently asleep in my living room.
God, Linsey was going to hate me if she ever found out, but I could never tell her. My first of many lies would start when I put a bullet in Reaper’s head. I didn’t bother asking Montana why he wanted Reaper dead. I knew he wouldn’t tell me. In fact, none of the board members would speak to me until my task was complete. That was how they rolled. The board handed down a task, and it was up to the applicant to complete it. The sooner the better, too, because I knew Montana hated waiting. If he wanted something done, he wanted it now, not later. Which meant I was heading back to Tennessee in the morning. I hated the idea of leaving Linsey and the girls alone, but I knew as long as they stayed in the penthouse, they would be safe. Davenport Tower was one of the most secure buildings in New York City.
I could catch a flight from LaGuardia to Knoxville, do what I needed to do, and be home by dinner if I worked fast. No one would even know I was there. I could sneak back into the compound, find my mark and leave before anyone was the wiser. Too easy. My only concern was Sandman. That fucker had the uncanny ability to be everywhere and nowhere. To be seen and not seen. Then there was the question of what he would do if he saw me kill Reaper. Would he end me just as I ended Reaper? Or would he turn the other cheek and let me walk away? It was a gamble I had to risk because, to solidify my allegiance to the board, I had to do the unthinkable.
Leaning over, I picked up the small to-go-bag I hastily packed and walked out of the bedroom, refusing to look back on the sleeping angel in my bed because if I did, I wouldn’t leave. Making my way downstairs, I quietly walked to the front door when I heard Remi speak. “Vicious?”
Turning, I looked at the beautiful woman now sitting on the couch and asked, “Yeah?”
“Don’t dig too deep. You won’t like what you find.”
“What?”
Remi just shook her head, tears silently falling from her eyes as she laid back down and rolled over, pulling the blanket up to her chin. I couldn’t stay and talk to her. I needed to finish this task. I needed to protect the woman I loved.
I landed in Knoxville in the early hours of the morning. The sun barely kissed the tips of the Smoky Mountains as I drove down Interstate 75. The closer I got to the clubhouse, the more resolved I became in my decision. I thought it odd that I felt no regret or sorrow. The Golden Skulls had been my home for close to five years. The men became my brothers. Brothers that I loved and respected. Then everything happened and brothers died. Died for someone who was a known liar.
A month ago, when the club voted to remove Reaper and install Ghost as the temporary Prez, I wholeheartedly agreed with Player when he talked about the death of his brother and Reaper’s part in it. Then there was Viper who lost his cousin, Smoke. Reaper’s decisions affected the entire club. Some good, some bad, but mostly bad. The man had too many demons. Too much blood on his hands to think clearly. All he saw was what he wanted, what he needed to ensure he lived. Logically, on some level, I knew he cared for the club and the brothers, but if it came down to it, I knew Reaper would sell us all out if it meant he lived. The fucked-up part is, I also believe he would use his wife in the same way.
There was a time where Reaper gave a damn. The man cared enough to do the right thing. I didn’t believe that now. I saw the confusion and worry seep into the brothers. The pain and heartache he caused his wife. The fear of the unknown as it seeped back into the clubhouse, but when Torque and Gadget died, it all hit home big time. But the last straw was seeing Remi and the kids on my doorstep asking me for help. That woman’s life was totally shit from the moment she was born. She deserved goodness and happiness and she wasn’t going to get it with Reaper.
The Golden Skulls Motorcycle Club was imploding and there was nothing anyone could do. With the new threat of Satan’s Angels, a one-percenter club from Alabama, the Golden Skulls didn’t have a chance. Satan’s Angels were bigger, stronger and had the manpower and clout the Golden Skulls didn’t have anymore. Which begged the question of how Reaper could reach out to Montana and what did Montana want, and what did Reaper use as collateral?
The compound was bustling with activity as I slowed down the car, taking in the brothers running around. Something was wrong. Pulling up to the gate, I lowered the window as Specs, one of the club’s prospects, stepped out of the guard shack.
“Clubs on lockdown. Turn around and leave. No visitors allowed.”
“It’s me, Specs. Vicious. Let me in.”
The young kid nodded and opened the gate, allowing me to pull in. I parked off to the side and cut the engine as I saw Ghost and Bullseye talking adamantly. I could see the tension and confusion radiating off them in waves. Slaughter was yelling at his brother Digger, who kept shaking his head until Slaughter took a step forward, making Digger leave to do whatever Slaughter wanted. Chaos was sitting on the steps of the clubhouse, head hanging low, ignoring everyone. Stepping out of the car, I barely made it a few steps when a hand landed on my shoulder. Turning, I stared into Sandman’s eyes. “You shouldn’t have come back, Vicious.”
“What’s going on?”
“You need to leave. Go back to New York City, brother. Shit’s about to hit the fan here.”
“I need to speak to Reaper.”
“He’s dead, Vicious. Someone killed him.”
