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“Kansas, it’s Ghost. Bad time?”
Sighing, I sat down in my chair and took a deep breath. “No. What can I do for you, Ghost?”
“It’s a courtesy call.”
Fuck.
Shaking my head, I moaned. “Okay. Who’s in the neighborhood?”
“My brother, Shadow.”
And just like that, my tension tightened. Out of all the Golden Skull members that could be in the area, it had to be Shadow. The brother who killed Jinx. God fucking help me if any of the brothers saw him before I could let them know. It would be a bloodbath.
“How long is he going to be in the neighborhood?”
“Don’t know. He left his colors, Kansas. He’s gone nomad.”
“Fuck,” I cursed. That created a whole new set of problems. I couldn’t kill a fucking nomad without provocation. What Shadow did as a Golden Skull was in the past the second he took off his cut.
The brothers weren’t going to be happy with that news.
“Where is he?”
“Visiting our sisters in Wichita Falls. Don’t know if he intended to come see you or not, but I wanted to give you the courtesy of a call.”
“I appreciate that.”
“How are things on your end? Heard about Reaper.”
“It’s a clusterfuck here. Clubs divided. Brothers fighting brothers. Thinking about calling in for reinforcements if you catch my drift.”
I did.
My eyes shot to Montana, who was busy on his phone.
I knew exactly what Ghost was referring to. Few clubs around the world could be called upon to do what Ghost was suggesting. Knowing my brother, he would jump at the chance to get a foothold in Tennessee. The Soulless Sinners motorcycle club wasn’t just any club. Always looking to expand, the club was all about solidifying their foothold in the M.C. world. So far, no other club has come close to the expanse of the Soulless Sinners. They were a breed like no other in their own right.
“Don’t worry about your brother. Next time you talk to him, tell him to come by. I will let my club know he is off limits. In the meantime, you need anything, let me know.”
“Will do and thank you, Kansas.”
Hanging up the phone, I leaned back in my chair when Montana said, “How are the Golden Skulls doing?”
“You already know that answer.”
“I do.”
“You going to do anything?”
“Monitoring the situation in Tennessee, little brother. Sounds like they lost another brother.”
“Not really,” I muttered. I really didn’t know how to explain the Shadow situation. I knew he was Ghost’s little brother and the former executioner of the club. He suffered from PTSD and needed medical help from his demons. Why he left the club was anyone’s guess, but with him close by, I would need to keep a vigilant eye out for the new nomad.
“Shadow isn’t like Vicious, Montana.”
“No, he is not,” my brother said, putting his phone away. “He is a killer who’s gone nomad. A killer with ties to this club. Looks like your troubles are piling up.”
“I can handle it.”
