Chucking, I returned to my seat and said, “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you are no cupcake. You are one of the biggest ball busters here.”
Smirking, she said. “I have a reputation to keep up.”
“It’s solid. No worries there.”
“Thank you for being understanding about all of this. I didn’t mean to bring this down on the club. I honestly thought everything was taken care of, that I was safe here. If I thought for one minute I would be bringing more problems, I never would have come.”
“No worries. Your brothers and I will make sure nothing happens to you.”
“You can’t promise that, Reaper.”
“The fuck I can’t. This club had been through too much shit already. If it’s the last thing I do, I will make sure my sister is safe.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You still have to tell your brothers,” I said and nodded to Ghost, who was waiting outside the door. Seconds later, he opened the door, and all my officers walked in, all looking at Phantom.
An hour later, the room emptied as I tried to wrap my head around everything Phantom had said. I still couldn’t believe it myself, and I had the evidence before me. The brothers took it well, and when all was said and done, they all vowed to help her seek her revenge.
I just hoped her demons waited until I could clear up some of the drama in the clubhouse, with Player going all vigilante on Savage and me slowly trying to drink himself to death. I needed something to give, anything.
A slight buzzing in my cut had me sighing as I reached inside my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. Seeing that it was Giovanni, I answered it.
“Hello.”
“Any word on Reggie and Catarina’s situation?” he asked, getting right to the point. I liked that about Giovanni. He didn’t play around. Neither did I, but unlike him, I worked with children most of the time, so I was constantly beating my head against a brick wall.
It had been almost two weeks since Layla was rescued from that sick bastard who took her. And though I wasn’t happy to hear what physically happened to her, I was pleased she was on the mend. I wasn’t shocked when Giovanni told me that Bullseye showed up in New York. I had a feeling he would want to make sure his sister was doing okay. What it was doing now was anyone’s guess. I just prayed that the fucker didn’t get himself into too much trouble. I hated myself for what I was putting him through. I wanted so much to explain, but until he was ready, the only thing I could do was give him the time and space he wanted.
I was surprised and elated to hear that Jekyll was deader than a fucking doornail. No disrespect to doornails, though. And though Giovanni told me he emptied both clips of his guns into Diablo, Gio informed me that Massacre was unable to identify his body. Apparently, having an entire tanker ship explode in New York City harbor wasn’t conducive when it came to finding the missing bastard.
But I wasn’t worried.
Even if he somehow the fucker miraculously survived twenty-four bullets and exploding ship, I knew he wasn’t going to be doing shit until he was healed. I just hoped that gangrene set in, and it killed the bastard slowly.
However, finding Diablo would have to wait for another day because I wanted Toxic. That slimy piece of shit was on the Golden Skulls most wanted list, and I wasn’t going to rest until I had him in my shed.
Bianchi was in the wind. No one had seen or heard from him since the hit in Italy, which totally fucking pissed me off when Massacre called and told me. I gave that shit one fucking job…to protect Layla, and still, a hitman damn near got her. Yeah, Massacre knew he was on my shit list and wasn’t eager to come home yet. Something about tying up loose ends. What he actually meant was that he wasn’t ready for me to kick his ass.
I put Sypher on Bianchi, and I was just waiting for the kid to come to tell me he had located the fucker. Until then, like everyone else, I was sitting on my ass, twiddling my fucking thumbs.
I hated not doing anything.
I felt as if a storm was brewing.
I didn’t know when but soon, the skies would open and rain down hell.
I just hoped we were all ready for what was to come.
“No,” I growled. “Antonio and Vicious have thought of several different legal ways to rectify the situation, but so far, every time they file the paperwork, a judge immediately dismisses it. Hughes knows he’s in trouble too. Word is slowly spreading in D.C. that he isn’t as clean-cut as he seems, and it’s causing trouble for him and his family.”
“Anything I can do?”
After the last court decision, I didn’t bother telling Gio that his cousin fled the compound with Catarina. The man had enough on his plate as it was. Besides, Player was still mine. He was my brother. The club would handle him. Instead, I skimmed over the essential details and gave a semi-standard response. Which, by my estimate, was technically the truth.
“No. This is a fucking logistical nightmare. Reggie seems to be taking everything in stride, but I know he is simmering below the surface. Luciano keeps him busy, but it’s Catarina we’re all worried about. She gets her hopes up every time, and when nothing happens, she disappears to their room and doesn’t come out for days. I still think we need to go in and let the chips fall where they may.”
This had gone on long enough.