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“To protect Remi,” he admitted, then added, “Maxwell Doherty was many things Vicious, but being a cunning bastard was his best trait. The man trusted no one. He always saw shit for what it was. Shit, he knew the second Chaos had returned to the club. He was in trouble. You see, Reaper always knew the truth.”
“Which was?”
“That Chaos wanted the seat. You were there when Remi showed up. You tell me. What do you remember?”
Fuck. That was over five years ago. A lot of shit happened in the interim. “Remi showed one day and changed everything. Reaper went from the soulless bastard he was once to a man on a mission. I know when Ghost returned to the club, Chaos gave up the V.P. seat to Ghost. Just handed it over. Then shit started going downhill fast. Fuck Montana, I don’t know what you want me to say. It was a clusterfuck for the longest time.”
“Tell me what you know about Chaos.”
“He’s the son of Hellhound. The old V.P. to James Doherty. One of the last remaining old guards that survived. From what I remember, Hellhound favored a cut-slut. Got her pregnant three times but refused to claim his kids. James Doherty found them living in the streets and put them in a house. Even took Chaos under his wing to protect Reaper. Chaos always agreed with Reaper. On everything. I know Chaos used the Golden Slipper as a drug distribution drop off and pick up. Facilitated the deal for Reaper between several clubs needed to move product. After the wedding, we all thought Chaos was dead. Then he showed up out of the blue damn near a year later with some crazy ass story about being with some fuck named Reed in North Dakota.”
“What if I told you that this Reed Chaos was with is none other than the older brother of Steele and that Chaos’s mother was the personal fucktoy of Reed?”
“Say that again?”
“Your former President was a smart man. Volatile but smart. Reaper knew who Chaos truly was from the beginning. The man did nothing without knowing who all the players were. When shit was going down with theSociety, Reaper knew there was more at play. That he had a mole. The wedding was three-fold. Marry Remi, solidifying her protection as the wife of a President. Throw theSocietyoff the club’s scent and to get rid of Chaos. He learned right before the wedding that Chaos was double dealing with several M.C.’s. Mainly with Satan’s Angels. Reaper knew Chaos had learned the truth. So, when Satan’s Angels showed up at the clubhouse, he knew Chaos was making his play. So, he called and made a deal with me.”
“To protect Remi.”
“Yes, and to ensure that the Golden Skulls survived for his son. Reaper knew with Chaos backing Satan’s Angels and giving them information, he was on borrowed time. He knew Remi would never agree to go into hiding. So, he set things in motion to make it easier for his wife to walk away.”
“The cut-sluts.”
Montana nodded. “Yeah. As fucked up as it was, Reaper knew having those bitches back in the club would piss his wife off to no end. The problem was it only had half the desired effect.”
“Are you telling me Reaper intentionally fucked a cut-slut to get Remi to leave?”
“Never said the motherfucker was a saint.”
“Did he know she would be the one to kill him?”
Montana shook his head. “No.”
“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” I muttered, trying to process everything. All this time, it was Chaos. The backstabbing, double-dealing motherfucker. The more I thought about it, the more I knew Montana was right. For a brief time, the club was going in the right direction. Everyone was happy. Thriving. Then everything went to shit fast. Fractured, the Golden Skulls were disintegrating fast.
After theSociety, the club wanted peace. To live out the rest of their days without a bullseye on their backs. Thanks to one fucking man, that was impossible. To make matters worse, Remi was now a target. She killed the President of a major motorcycle club. When word got out, every club loyal to the Golden Skulls would look for her. There was no place she could hide. She was on borrowed time. But it just wasn’t her. If Chaos got what he wanted, there was still one threat to him and his endgame.
“It’s not just Remi you are protecting. You are protecting Jesse.”
Montana nodded. “Jesse Doherty is the rightful President of the Golden Skulls. Eventually, in time, he will take over the club.”
Twenty-Five
Linsey
“Get back in bed,” I said firmly, rooted in place. It had only been four days since the hospital released Vicious into my care and though I was happy to have him home, he was the worst patient ever. The man refused to listen to reason. “Your leg is still healing. If you keep walking on it, it won’t mend properly. The doctor’s said you needed to stay off it.”
“Baby, I’m fine.”
The sweat beading on his forehead and the slight grimace told me differently. Refusing to back down, I threatened, “You either get back in that damn bed or I will call Montana and have him send some brothers over here to ensure you stay put.”
Vicious chuckled. “Ain’t gonna work, baby. Got stuff I need to do.”
“Get back in bed. Now,” a firm voice said, making me turn. Smiling, I grinned triumphantly as Virginia Stone walked into our bedroom. “There is nothing that can’t wait another week. Push me on this Gregory and I will get Happy and George in here. I will have them hold you down while I tie your ass to the bed. So, stop being a pain in the ass and let Linsey take care of you.”
Huffing, my man grumbled as he got back into bed. Covering him up, I reached for the nightstand next to him, picked up his pill bottle, then handed him two white pills. Watching him take them, I busied myself picking up a few loose items that were lying around the room. “I’ll be back with your lunch in a few minutes. Stay in bed.”
I didn’t bother waiting for a response. I knew I wouldn’t get one, or if I did, I wouldn’t like it. Gregory Van Otto was hands down the worst patient ever.
