Page 59 of Sinner's Malice

As for me, well Montana was really playing up the indignant dad card. Of course, the more I thought about it, I guess on a really tiny, minuscule level, Montana was somewhat of a father figure to me. I knew he trusted me. Moreso than the others, maybe even Mercy, and that was saying something. With Montana, there were layers of bullshit that masked the real man beneath. And as much as I thought I knew him, these last few weeks showed me, I didn’t.

The fact was, I was an adult, capable of making my own decisions, and regardless of who I chose, nothing, and I mean, no one, would ever be good enough for Montana.

“Running away again?”

Looking up, I didn’t move when Popeye sat next to me, shaking his head. Glancing around the park, I wondered where he had come from. Bastard looked like shit and smelled awful.

Though I was no longer at the clubhouse, I wasn’t stupid.

I knew Malice would know exactly where I was. He made sure of that after the whole Petrovitch shit went down and I took off out of the blue. When the dust had settled, the crazy fucker snuck into my room one night and injected me with a tracking device under the skin of my wrist, right where my scar was. Before I could say anything, he got up and left my room like nothing happened.

“Let me guess. Montana’s not happy that Malice claimed you.”

“How do you know that?”

Popeye looked at me and smiled. “I know everything.”

“Everyone is looking for you.”

“And eventually they will find me. Until then, I’m going to enjoy this peaceful day and sit on this bench next to you.”

“Did you really do all those things they think you did?”

Popeye sighed, looking down at his hands. “Yes, and so much more.”

“Why?”

“I wasn’t given a choice. Like most of us back then, we served at the pleasure of George Stone.”

“He was blackmailing you, too,” I muttered as Popeye nodded.

“There is so much that old fuck did back in the day, Silver. Shit that will eventually come back to haunt the club. While Layla did the world a favor in killing George, I’m afraid all she did was open the door for all the skeletons to walk out. And trust me, Silver, there are many.”

I knew he was telling me the truth.

Pleading with him, I said, “Popeye, turn yourself in to Montana. Tell him everything. Tell the board what you know. If it’s as bad as you say, they are going to need your help.”

“That’s what I thought when I called Malice. But apparently, it didn’t work. I knew Malice could be reasonable when the mood suited him. Guess I picked the wrong time. It doesn’t matter anyway, because I’ve got a mark on my head now, and Montana will stop at nothing until he collects my brand.”

“There has to be someone that will make them listen to you.”

Popeye looked at me and smiled. “I’ve really missed you, girlie. You are too good for Malice.”

Getting to his feet, Popeye looked around the park as he reached into his jacket before handing me a piece of paper.

Taking it, I looked up at him, waiting.

“Give that to Malice.”

“What is it?”

“Tell him I did everything in my power, but now it’s his turn.”

With that, Popeye walked off, leaving me alone once more on the park bench. Opening the piece of paper, all that was written on it was a name and place.Gray Greer, Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

Chapter Fifteen

Malice