“Nope.”
“He’s gonna kill that man.”
“Good.”
“Funerals always bring out the good in people.” Slightly turning, I looked at Chains and questioned his mental state. Who the fuck liked funerals? The more I thought about it, the more it was starting to give me a headache. “You’re an idiot.”
“True, but you have to admit, they are a lively affair.” Chains grinned, watching the show. Turning in my seat, I had just taken another swig when Reaper threatened Denton. “You step one foot on my property again, and I will fucking reap your soul! Get the fuck out of my house.”
“This isn’t over, Reaper.”
Nobody said shit as the older man left the clubhouse, shutting the front door behind him.
“Ghost!” Reaper roared. “Church. NOW!”
Sighing, I grabbed my bottle of Jack and proceeded to do as instructed. Not that I gave a shit. What could he do to me? Kill me? I was already dead inside. My wife was dead. My daughter was better off without me. Hell, my own brothers didn’t want me around.
Walking into church, I took another long swallow, then took my seat. The door slammed shut seconds later as Reaper walked over to me, snagged my bottle of Jack, and threw it across the room.
Great. It’s going to be one of those meetings.
“You want to tell me what the fuck is going on in that messed up head of yours? Because I am fed up with this shit. You take off for five mother fucking years, without a word, then show back up as if nothing is wrong. Then you bolt from the hospital, seconds after hearing of my sister’s death. None of us had a clue where you were at for five fucking days, then you show up looking like some GQ model, with that fucking cult’s brand on your back, not to mention the fucking tracking device embedded in your skin, which by the way, I gave to Phantom so she could do her tech thing.”
I didn’t bother saying shit because Reaper was just gearing up. When he got his mad on, he could rant for weeks. So, instead, I stretched my legs under the table and got comfortable. I was going to be sitting here for a while.
“And another thing! What the fuck did you say to JefferyFuckingDenton? That man is pissed off, and now he is threatening me. And why was my mother so freaked out when she saw him. I saw what you did. We all did. I may not have heard what you said, but I know when you are threatening someone, and you threatened him. Why?”
“Ask your mother.”
“I’m asking you, asshole.”
“Not going to bring up old wounds today. Ask me any other time. Not today.”
“Too fucking bad!” Reaper roared. “That mother fucker is threatening to sue my club and me along with having Homeland do an internal investigation into the running of this club.”
“Let him.”
“Oh, easy for you to say. It’s not your head on the fucking chopping block.”
“Look, man, any other day, and I would lay it all flat for you, but this shit is different. Not today.”
“You either tell me yourself, or I will have Phantom in here in a heartbeat.”
“She won’t talk either.”
“Why not!”
“Because I asked her not to.”
“FUCK!” Reaper yelled, slamming his hands down on the wooden table. “This is my mother fucking club! PHANTOM! Get the fuck in here and bring that fucking computer that’s always glued to your ass!”
Moments later, Phantom peeked her head in behind the door and asked, “Is it safe, or do I need my Kevlar?”
Reaper growled, I chuckled, as Phantom stayed put.
“Get in here before he blows a fuse.” I sighed.
Phantom came in, closing the door behind her, and sat down at the table, placing her laptop before her. She said nothing as she opened it, typed something then looked up. “So, what can I do for the King of the Golden Skulls today?”