Sinner’s Redemption by Rebecca Joyce

Chapter Twenty-Five

Montana

It was damn near three in the morning before my brothers left. Dad tried to stick around to talk some sense into me, but I wasn’t interested.

I was fucking bone tired. Tired of dealing with family drama, tired of dealing with fuckers who didn’t know how to stay dead. Tired of greedy bitches, snitches and fucking whores. I was tired of fighting with my woman. I was just plain fucking tired of it all.

I needed a moment to myself.

In order to find the peace I desired, I needed to locate Petrovitch and Graves and take them out of the equation, fast and efficiently. Mainly, I wanted their bodies at the bottom of the harbor as fish food.

My life wasn’t like most men. I didn’t get up every morning and work some nine-to-five job in some corporate industrial complex, losing my sanity one fucking day at a time.

Fuck that shit.

Life was meant to be lived, and I lived it on my own terms.

While the world was all about their political correctness, conspiracies and the need to make everyone feel included, I did what I wanted. Fuck everyone else. I didn’t give two shits about who I pissed off, offended or made to cry. They didn’t like me. I didn’t give a fuck. They weren’t living my life.

I made my own rules. Always had. Didn’t like them, then walk out the fucking door. I wasn’t here to hold anyone’s hand or mend their fucking delicate sensibilities.

Life was hard.

It was cutthroat and only the strong survived. The sooner they learned that, the better off they would be.

I knew early on that a normal life wasn’t for me. It wasn’t because my dad ran the Soulless Sinners. It wasn’t because I watched as people respected and feared my dad. No. It was because of a split-second decision I made that changed the outcome of not only my life, but the life of my brothers.

In that split second, I knew who I was, and I owned it.

I would never apologize for that.

Never.

If my brothers couldn’t understand that, then fuck them. I didn’t need them. I’ve survived the last twenty years without them by my side. It was no skin off my back.

After August ran his mouth, I gave up stopping Kansas from beating the hell out of the fucker. As far as I was concerned, August got what he deserved. In the end, Dad and the Rejects pulled Kansas off the prone fucker before he snapped his neck. I wouldn’t have cared if my baby brother had or not. He would have taken care of one of my problems for me. Instead, August was recovering and sleeping off his drunken stupidity in his room under lock and key. Kansas was once again refusing to speak to me, and my other brothers wanted my blood.

What else was new?

What I didn’t get was why Arizona and Dakota were angry? I got Kansas’ anger. He was in love with Amy. The fucking bitch lied and told him she was pregnant when she wasn’t. But the other two? That made no fucking sense.

Sitting on my bed in the clubhouse, I looked up when I heard a soft knock at the door. I should have known she would show up.

She always did when she knew I had reached my limit.

I grinned. “Yeah?”

The door slowly opened as she walked in with a bottle of whiskey and two tumblers. Only she wasn’t alone. Watching as they both entered, I said nothing as she sat the bottle of whiskey on the nightstand next to me. I kept quiet as he walked over to my desk and grabbed two chairs. Setting them near me, they sat as she poured whiskey into the glasses before handing me one.

“You okay?” she asked, taking a sip of her drink.

“What’s going on?” I asked, looking at Malice.

My brother shrugged, saying nothing as he cautiously watched Silver, whose hand was slightly trembling.

Twirling the amber liquid in her glass, she whispered, “Full disclosure. I heard and saw everything.”

I smirked.

I wasn’t surprised.

There was nothing in this club that she didn’t see or know about.

“Don’t want you involved, babe.”

“I’m not,” she said, throwing back her drink before refilling her glass. “We’ve never discussed my past, Montana. I think it’s time.”

That got my attention as my head snapped to Malice, who sat stoically, looking at his hands.

Focusing on her, I asked, “Why now?”

“Because you need to know what you are really facing,” Silver said, throwing back the contents of her drink again before refilling it and doing the same again. I’d never seen her drink heavily like this before. Whatever she needed to tell me must be bad. If she needed the liquid fortitude to get it all out, who was I to say otherwise?

“My birth name is Arianwen Paisley Hughes,” Silver smirked. “I know it’s a mouth full, but what can I say? Mom believed in the old ways. Anyway, I was born in a small fishing village at the tip of the Llyn Peninsula in Northern Wales. I had an idyllic life, friends and family. I had it all until I didn’t. I was thirteen years old when mom told me we were going on a trip to the big city. I thought she meant Cardiff or London. When we landed in Los Angeles, I’d never seen anything so spectacular before in my life. I grew up by the water my whole life. I thought I knew how big it was, that was until I saw the Pacific Ocean.”

Silver swallowed another glass of whiskey, then poured herself another drink.

“I didn’t know why mom brought me to America. I never asked. In hindsight, I should have. At least I could have prepared myself. In the end, she blindsided me. What I didn’t know at the time was my mom was a whore. The money she brought home she made by spreading her legs for any dick that could get hard.”

Confused, I never once asked Silver about her past. It was hers alone to share, but I didn’t understand why she thought I needed to hear this now.

“Three men picked us up at the airport and drove us to a mansion. I’d never seen one. Heard about them, saw them in magazines, but never thought I’d be in one. What my mom failed to tell me was that she sold me to her employer. Her debts were clear, thanks to me.”

“Excuse me?” I muttered.

“Let her finish,” Malice growled.

“For three years, he raped, sodomized, terrorized, beat and drugged me into compliance. Yet, I refused to bow to his demands. I rebelled, fought him every step of the way, until he ordered his men to kill me. Apparently, I was unbreakable. His wild mustang, he called me. Five of his men took me out into the desert, where they had their fun at my expense before he showed up.” Silver said, frowning at Malice.

What the fuck?

“I was in Vegas on club business when I decided I needed a ride. I just happened upon the fuckers when they were raping her. I didn’t think. I killed them all. I didn’t know what to do with Arianwen. She was fucking hurt so bad. I was on my bike. I didn’t think. I picked her up and brought her back to the hotel, cleaned her up as best as I could, gave her some money and told her I paid the room up for the rest of the week.”

“You left her there!” I roared, throwing my glass against the wall. “How could you, Malice?”

“Didn’t want the complications.”

“Complications!” I seethed. “She was a child!”

“Still is,” Malice muttered.

“Montana, let me finish,” Silver said quietly, reaching for my hand. “If I don’t finish, I never will.”

Sitting back down, I glared at my brother.

“It’s not Malice’s fault. Don’t be angry with him. If I was in his position, I would have done the same thing. What Malice hasn’t said was the men he killed worked for Boris Petrovitch. I was his whore for three years. When I heard you talking tonight, I knew it was time to tell you my story. I knew I should have told you sooner, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want you to kick me out. This is the only place I feel safe. That’s why I don’t leave. I’ve never left this clubhouse. Storm can attest to that.”

Fuck.

Sighing, I hung my head. “I know, baby. You did nothing wrong.”

“Yes, I did,” she whispered. “It’s why Malice hates me.”

Confused, I looked at them. “I don’t understand. What could you have done that Malice could never forgive?”

I watched as Silver removed the leather cuffs she always wore and turned her wrists so I could see. On both wrists were jagged scars. Reaching for them, I held her hands in mine. “When?”

“The night you found me. After Malice left me in Vegas, I stayed in the hotel room until my time was up. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I knew I couldn’t go back to California. I had no identification, no driver’s license, nothing. I wasn’t even an American citizen. Still not. The only money I had was what Malice gave me. So, I bought a bus ticket and made my way to New York City. I knew Boris never stepped foot in the city because it belonged to Fedorov. He hates the Bloodletter more than he hates me. When I arrived in the city, I didn’t know where to go. I kept to dark alleys and stayed hidden for a while. I tried finding a job, but everyone wanted identification, a social security card I didn’t have. In the end, I became a street rat. I just happened upon the clubhouse by accident. The money Malice gave me ran out weeks beforehand. I was hungry. I hadn’t eaten in days. That’s when you found me. When you brought me inside, I didn’t know what to make of you. Then I saw Malice. He took one look at me and knew who I was. I knew I couldn’t stay. He knew my secret. He knew who I was. That night, with no other choice, I snuck into the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and decided to end everything. Malice must have known because he found me minutes later, bleeding all over the floor. He stitched me up the best he could and has avoided me ever since. In his eyes, I committed a mortal sin. He can’t forgive me for that. That’s why he hates me.”

“Don’t hate you.” He grumbled.

“No, you just think my soul is going to hell.”

Malice shrugged. “Wasn’t your choice. Only God can take a life.”

“Fuck you, asshole. God doesn’t have to live my life.”

“Maybe if you asked for forgiveness.”

“I know you just didn’t say that shit to me?” Silver gasped.

Holding up my hand, I firmly said, “Malice. Leave. Now”

My brother quietly got up, put his chair back where he found it, and left the room.

“I don’t understand him, Montana,” Silver whispered, her voice catching. “He saved me. He didn’t have to, but he did. He cared for me, made me feel safe. He gave me money. Yet I do one thing he disapproves of and I’m a pariah. A sinner.”

“Malice is a devout Catholic, sweetheart. He only knows two things. The church and the club. He’s not good with everything else,” I calmly said, as she wiped a lone tear from her face. Silver got along with everyone except Malice. Now, I understand why. It wasn’t her fault my brother was the way he was. Just like it wasn’t her fault, she reached her limit and tried to kill herself. Everyone has a breaking point. Even me. “Baby, we need to talk about your time with Petrovitch.”

She sighed. “I know.”

“Fury, Silver needs identification. Everything.”

My brother looked up at me, confused. “Huh?”

“Social, Driver’s license, birth certificate, everything. I want it airtight. Make it happen. Fast.”

“What’s going on with Silver?” Mercy asked, as I stared at Malice, who sat at the end of the table eating one of his damned apples as if nothing was wrong.

“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head then asked, “Is there anything else we need to discuss?”

“Got the Vanderveer Cancer Research Gala tomorrow night.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Bad timing, I know, but we’ll make it work,” Mercy replied, shifting in his seat. “Also, the gate guard told me that Tessa came by to see you last night. He turned her away. Told her you were busy with another woman.”

I sighed, hanging my head. “Motherfucker.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“He’s out. Take his cut and ban him from the property. Put another brother in his place. Let the club brothers know that if my woman shows up, she is to be admitted immediately.”

“Already did,” Mercy grinned.

“Okay. Everyone get the fuck out of here. None of you need to hear me grovel,” I said, reaching for my phone as my brothers got to their feet and left.

This was one phone call I didn’t want to make.

If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. It was already bad enough she was angry at me for accusing her of shit she didn’t do, but now she thought I was with another woman. Leaning back in my chair, I had just pulled up my contact list when Dakota walked in.

Fuck my life.