Looking at me, Reaper grinned. “It’s actually fucking brilliant when you think about it. Sypher has been a major player in the underworld since he was sixteen. He contracts for the table and damn near most of the Biker Federation. There isn’t a single fucking soul connected to the underworld that Sypher hasn’t investigated. The kid is a veritable encyclopedia of who’s who in the criminal underworld.”
“Add in his stellar fucking brain and sense of morality, it only makes sense he would do something stupid. I can’t believe we didn’t figure it out sooner. His dad was the same fucking way. Always did the right fucking thing.”
“And just like his father, Sypher will do anything to protect his family,” Reaper finished, turning to Val, who hadn’t moved an inch.
Walking over to the woman, he sighed. “Val, it’s time. You’ve been running your entire life. I know Sypher’s been helping you keep your secret, but we can’t save him if we don’t know everything. Why would Danny risk his own life for you?”
“He’s not,” I said as I stepped toward Val, who visibly paled and took a step back. “He’s doing it for my intern, isn’t he? I’m so fucking stupid. How could I miss it? I saw him every motherfucking day and never put two and two together. He’s the spitting image of him. Tell me I’m wrong?”
“Montana, don’t,” Val whispered, her eyes laced with fear.
“Who is Pippen’s father? And don’t you fucking tell me it’s Dakota, because I know it’s not him. My fucking idiot of a brother may be a sadistic sociopath, but he’s fucking sterile.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Reaper asked, looking at me. “We already know your dick of a brother raped Thena and works for that fucking cunt.”
“He’s right, Montana,” Fury added. “Carly said as much when she dug into his past. You know this.”
Shaking my head, I never took my eyes off the woman. Had mad respect for Valhalla and her club, but she fucking knew I was telling the truth. I may not know everything, but I was quickly catching on to all these games. It was too fucking easy. Whoever was holding the strings wanted us to believe that Dakota was the father. So that meant he wasn’t. Thena Hartley, Valhalla or whatever fucking name she used, knew this too.
Shaking her head, she whispered, “I won’t tell you.”
Refusing to let up, I pressed on. “I know you weren’t raised at the Trick Pony.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Montana?” Malice sneered. “She was with us when we escaped!”
“That may be true, but she wasn’t born there. Tell them the truth, Meredith?”
All eyes turned to Valhalla when she gasped, and Popeye stepped up behind her protectively.
Yeah, I wasn’t as stupid as everyone thought. There was a lot I remembered and still shit I didn’t, but that didn’t negate the fact that I fucking knew the woman standing before me. It always bugged me how she and her club avoided anything biker related yet registered their club with the Federation. Now it all made sense. She needed to keep an eye on all of us. My club specifically. Or should I say one particular brother?
“Don’t do this, Montana,” she whispered.
“Why not?” I sneered. “You are the reason for this whole fucked-up mess. The time for secrets is over. Your club prides itself on protecting the innocent. Well, now is your chance. If you know something that can help us save Sypher, start talking. Because either you tell them, or I will. It makes no difference to me. But when this shit is over, you and I will have a fucking in-depth discussion woman. Got me?”
“What the hell is going on here?” Reaper snarled.
Scoffing, I shook my head and went to sit down. “Ask her.”
“You are still a fucking dick, you know that, Montana?” Val sneered.
Leaning back in my chair, I grinned. “Should have stayed hidden if you didn’t want anyone to know. Speaking of which, does he fucking know? Or have you been keeping secrets from him, too?”
“Someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on here and how it pertains to my fucking brother?” Ace snarked.
Popeye whispered, “It’s time, Val. Tell them.”
I watched the woman’s shoulders slump like an immense burden weighed heavily on her as she walked over to a table and sat. Leaning forward in the chair, she took a deep breath and began. “You’ve heard of the saying bad blood? Well, Edward Goldman took that shit to a whole new level. In the beginning, there were five of them. Brian Doherty, Frances Lombardo, White Wolf, Gregory Stone, and Edward Goldman. All from different backgrounds, but with one thing in common—they were all some of the first prisoners in Nebraska State Penitentiary.”
“Hold up,” Fury interrupted. “Carly found no evidence of prison time.”
“Because Sypher erased it.”
“Why?” Ace asked.
“To protect the innocent,” Val said, looking at Reaper who stiffened. “Like I was saying, each man was doing time for various petty crimes, except for Edward Goldman, who, at the time, was the youngest prisoner to be incarcerated. He was fifteen and sentenced to death for murdering his family and several accounts of rape. The man was seriously mentally ill, but back then there was no place to put him but in a prison. Because of his age, the four other men kind of protected him, especially Brian Doherty. In the early 1920s, the prison scheduled Edward to be the first person executed for his crimes when he started a riot, killing two guards and raping the warden’s wife. During the riot, Brian and the others escaped, taking Edward with them. For a few short years, they stayed under the radar, doing nefarious things for cash, but hit it big when prohibition hit the scene. The five men ran moonshine and other vices, like tobacco and drugs. But everything came to a fucking halt when Edward assaulted Brian’s youngest sister, Frances and left her for dead. However, when Frances died giving birth, he vowed to find Edward and kill him.”
“So it’s true then,” Fury muttered. “Carly was right. It was Edward who raped Frances.”
