Page 84 of Ruger's Rage
The family resemblance is subtle but unmistakable—something in the set of her jaw, the shape of her eyes that mirrors my own, my father's.
"Talk," I order.
She takes a deep breath. "My father isn't who I thought he was."
"No shit."
"I never knew him growing up. My mom—Raven—she told me stories about this great man who had to leave us behind. Made him sound like some tragic hero." Bitterness creeps into her voice. "When he came back into our lives three years ago, I thought I was finally getting the father I'd always wanted."
Bloodhound interrupts. "Is there a point to this?"
She shoots him a glare. "The point is I believed him when he said he was exiled because ofyou." She nods toward me. "Said you'd betrayed him, taken the club, took his woman for yourself. I believed him because I wanted to."
"And now?" I press.
"Now I know he's a fucking liar." Her hand unconsciously touches her bruised face. "Two days ago, I overheard him talking with Viper—the man who raised me before Dad came into the picture. They were arguing about Marco Santini and some bartender."
Tildie stiffens beside me.
"Viper was pissed, saying Striker promised them exclusive distribution rights in Morgantown but was double-dealing with Santini. When I confronted him afterward..." She gestures to her eye. "Got this for my trouble. Said I should mind my own business if I knew what was good for me."
"So you came running to us," Ounce says skeptically. "Why?"
"Because Viper's been good to me, and he’s my godfather." The answer surprises me. "He took me under his wing when Striker brought us to Pittsburgh. Treated me like the daughter he never had. And now my father's setting him up, playing the Vultures against you, all to help this Santini asshole get his ex back."
I have to clarify. "You're saying Viper doesn't know that Striker's double crossing him?"
"He suspects, but doesn't have proof. My father's been careful, using me to feed information to your prospect while feeding Viper false intel from supposed contacts here."
The pieces start falling into place. "That's why Striker's been so blatant about framing us. He wanted to ensure Viper would retaliate."
"War benefits Santini," Kinsey confirms. "While you and the Vultures are tearing each other apart, he slips in and grabs what he's after." Her eyes flick to Tildie. "You, I assume."
Tildie meets her gaze unflinchingly. "Marco doesn't like losing what he considers his property."
"Yeah, I got that impression." Kinsey's expression softens slightly. "He's been staying at the Marriott downtown. Striker meets with him daily, usually around 6 PM."
"How convenient that you're offering this information now," Bloodhound says. "After months of helping Striker spy on us."
"I didn't know what they were planning until two days ago!" She leans forward, desperation in her voice. "I thought I was helping my father reclaim what was rightfully his. Then I realized he's the exact monster everyone warned me about."
"Including Rookie?" Ounce asks.
Her expression crumples slightly. "Yeah. He tried to tell me Striker wasn't the victim he claimed to be. I didn't listen. I… I genuinely wanted to believe my father was a good man, but the moment he put his hands on me, I knew better."
Something about her remorse feels genuine, but I've been fooled before. "Why should we trust anything you're saying?"
"Because Viper's planning to hit one of your warehouses tonight. South side, the one near the old factory. And my father's going to be there, pretending to help while ensuring maximum casualties on both sides."
The specificity gets my attention. "How do you know this?"
"Because I drove Striker to the planning meeting yesterday." She pulls out her phone. "And I recorded it."
She swipes through, then holds it out.
Ounce takes it, checking for anything suspicious before pressing play.
Striker's voice fills the room, unmistakable even through the phone's speaker.
