Page List


Font:  

I wouldn’t lie about this shit.

However, when he narrowed his eyes and lightly shook his head, I knew the information was finally sinking in. “He’s fucking dead. Pops killed him before he took over the club.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, but the old fucker is alive. Even had Merc and the boys interrogate him. They even fingerprinted the fucker. It’s him.”

“Impossible,” Reaper said shaking his head. “It’s someone else. Pops killed him. He said he did. Pops wouldn’t lie about something like that. You’re wrong.”

I knew this part wasn’t going to be easy. The only way he would believe was to see for himself. “Phantom, get Matrix on the line.”

Doing as she was told, Matrix’s ugly mug appeared on the big television screen. “What?”

“Show him.” I simply said.

Seconds later, the screen split in two as a non-descript white room appeared. The room wasn’t much to look at. It was a simple room with minor amenities like a small bed and a single chair in the room. There were no windows. No paintings on the wall. Just a simple white room with an old man sitting in a chair reading a book.

Reaper slowly stood; his eyes never left the screen as he walked closer. I didn’t claim to know what he was thinking. The man on the screen was the cause of all this club’s problems. Thought to be dead, William Doherty was hands down the vilest man on the planet. A known rapist and murderer, how he was still breathing was anyone’s guess.

“Connect the coms,” I ordered as I heard a crackling noise in the white room. I watched as William slowly lowered the book and turned to the camera in the room, giving Reaper a clear picture of his face. The son of a bitch grinned. “Hello boy.”

“MOTHER FUCKER!”

Ghost jumped to his feet, reaching for his gun as the old man laughed. Before the old man could start spewing filth, I motioned to Matrix to kill the comms.

“How?” Ghost sputtered. “How is this possible?”

“From what we can gather, William survived the attack by his son James. He was picked up by Sylvia St. James. She nursed him back to health and kept him hidden. Why we don’t know. We do know that Gideon St. James had him moved to his private island a few years ago, where he’s been ever since. William has had no contact with the outside world. None. His room is basically a prison.”

“I want him dead!” Reaper roared, his demon pushing forward, desperately wanting William’s blood. I didn’t blame him. I wanted the mother fucker dead too. The death and destruction he caused were too much. Knowing I was related to this fucker was enough to curl my stomach. I hated him. The sooner he was in hell, the happier I would be. Yet, it wasn’t going to be that easy.

“We can’t kill him.”

“The fuck you can’t. Open the fucking door and put a bullet in his head.”

“It’s not that easy, Reaper. This is William Doherty. The head of the Original Seven. The instigator for everything this club’s been through. He has information we need about the players and their endgame. We can’t kill him till he talks.”

“I don’t give a fuck!” Reaper shouted, slamming his hands down on the wooden table. “I want that fuckers brains painting the fucking walls. I want his body dismembered and fed to the fucking sharks.”

“He will get what is coming to him,” I nodded, then schooled my features before adding. “After he talks.”

“He needs to die,” Ghost growled, agreeing with Reaper. “There is nothing he can say that will change the past. Just kill the asshole.”

“Matrix,” Reaper shouted, turning back to the screen. “Kill that mother fucker now!”

Matrix looked at Reaper, then turned to look at me. “Boss?”

That’s when the whole room turned to look at me.

Fuck.


Tags: Rebecca Joyce Dark