Page 50 of Sinner's Malice
Montana moved and Mercy quickly stepped in and prevented him from going any further.
“What are you asking, Malice?” the vice president said.
I looked up at Malice while he stared directly at Montana and pointed at him. “I want his permission.”
“I’ll die before I ever give that!” Montana roared.
“Then I will take her and leave.”
“WHOA!” Torment shouted, rushing between the two men, holding his hands up. “Everyone needs to calm the hell down right now.”
“Get the fuck out of my way, Torment.”
In the next instant, Torment reached into his front pocket and pulled out a golden medallion. Its intricate engravings gleamed in the morning sunlight, the weight of it making a satisfying thud when he dropped it at Montana’s feet.
“You can’t touch him.”
There was an eerie stillness, and Montana stood motionless as he stared at the Soulless Sinner medallion at his feet. The rest of the brothers cursed.
Confusion overwhelmed me and I became intrigued by the sudden shifting demeanors as Montana and Malice both took a seat. Torment was just a sitting board member. That’s all. He had no pull, like Fury or Mercy, and he was certainly no Montana, yet both men calmly sat like nothing was wrong.
Torment let out a heavy sigh, taking in the sight of the brothers sitting before him.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Malice muttered.
“I wasn’t going to let him kill you.”
“He could have tried.”
“Just shut up, Malice,” Torment groaned.
“You sure about this, man, ‘cause if you’re wrong, you can lose your brand and your life? Going against a direct order from the president is a death sentence,” Mercy clearly stated.
“I’m sure.”
“Uh, what the hell did I miss?” we all heard Storm say as he stood in the doorway, looking at the gold medallion at Montana’s feet.
“Someone want to tell me what the fuck is happening?” I asked, looking about the room, and when no one spoke up, I glared at Montana, who refused to say a damn word. “Well?”
As Montana bent over and picked up the medallion, he couldn’t help but shake his head in disbelief. With a sneer, he pocketed it and locked eyes with Malice, his own expression filled with distain. “Just so we’re clear. Torment may have saved your ass right now, but this isn’t over between us. You and I will have our day in the ring.”
Malice said nothing.
Restlessly, I paced back and forth in my room, the ticking of the clock becoming more pronounced with each passing minute. I had been holed up in my room since Malice and Torment escorted me here and ordered me to stay. I was still clueless about the situation, and both men were equally unhelpful in providing answers. It wasn’t surprising that Malice remained silent, but I had expected Torment to contribute something, even if it was just a small remark.
Instead, I got nothing.
Not even a see you later.
From the beginning, I knew that my connection to Malice would not be a simple or straightforward journey. Although I was finding it challenging to come to terms with the situation, I firmly believed that he did not have any malicious intent to hurt me. The man I knew would sooner sacrifice his own hand than inflict harm upon me in a fit of rage. No matter how hard I tried to make Montana understand, he turned a deaf ear to my explanations. All he saw were the marks that marred my body.
No matter what, Montana would always see me as the lost, homeless girl that desperately needed him to save me. And for a while, I accepted that, because I did. I didn’t know where to go or where to turn. That night, I planned on ending everything and would have if it wasn’t for Montana.
Because of him, I found a place where I belonged and wanted to be. I never had a father growing up. Hell, I didn’t even know who the man might be. Considering my mother’s nocturnal activities, it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. It could be anyone.
Not that it really mattered.
In my head, I already had a so-called father.