Sinner’s Malice (Soulless Sinners MC #4)

Twenty-Seven

Malice

“Sit down, Gideon.”

Doing as she demanded, I stared, unsure of what to do or say next.

“The others need to hear this,” Torment said, walking away.

Leaning close, I whispered, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Amelia shook her head. “I only want to tell this story once.”

Knowing she wouldn’t talk until everyone arrived, I sat back in my chair and looked at Rage, who was now sitting next to Snoopy. The two men had always gotten along.

“You home for good?” Snoopy asked Rage.

“Yeah. I fulfilled all my contracts for the year. With winter approaching, I’ve decided to give my crew the next few months off.”

“Sure they enjoyed that.”

Rage smirked. “With the bonus checks I gave them, they sure did.”

Alexander Cruise, also known as Rage, was a former Army officer before he left the service and started up his own demolitions company. Rage relocated his company to New York City, after the murder of his parents, and applied to become a brother in the Soulless Sinners MC. His company, Cruise Demolitions, was one of the best demolition crews in the world. There wasn’t a building, structure, or bridge that Rage couldn’t bring down.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Montana and the others walk into the main room. Before Montana could say anything, Torment spoke up, “Montana, this is Amelia Scott. Malice’s mother.”

Montana smiled as he greeted her, lightly shaking her hand. “Welcome to the Soulless Sinners, Mrs. Scott.”

Torment quickly made the rest of the introductions, and when everyone found a seat, Amelia began.

“Back in the sixties, the south was nothing like it is today. There was so much turmoil, so much hatred, it was suffocating. But growing up in the backwoods of Alabama, well, that was worse. Especially for anyone of color.

“My mother’s name was Naomi Clare Pride. She was the daughter of a housemaid and a prominent businessman, and more importantly, a landowner named Daniel Pride. Born on a plantation in Lynchburg, Virginia. Back then, illegitimate children of landowners were a dime a dozen. It didn’t matter if the children were born somewhat white. They were considered less and used as help for the white people. However, Naomi was born white as snow, with corn silk hair and the bluest eyes anyone had ever seen. My grandfather knew he couldn’t keep Naomi because that would cause a scandal. So, he sent her away to live with distant cousins in Alabama.

“Over the next several years, my mother lived a relatively normal life. Everyone who met her adored her. She was kind, gracious, and full of spirit. Then Daniel died when Naomi was about to turn seventeen. The family sent a representative to the reading of the will and that’s when they learned Naomi wasn’t who she seemed. She was part Negro. Daniel had regretted his decision and left a portion of his land to Naomi, stating that twenty acres were to go to his Negro daughter, Naomi.

“The family felt appalled and disgusted that Daniel had deceived them. When the town learned the truth about Naomi, everything changed for her, but more importantly, a man named Devlin Scott came forward and offered to buy her. The family agreed.

“That night, Devlin Scott raped Naomi, damn near killing her. No one cared. She was a Negro in their eyes and deserved everything she got and more.

“The Scott family was old money. Their ancestors helped shape and mold Alabama back then. No one did anything without the backing of the Scotts. There were rumors that Charles Scott, Devlin’s father, held the position of grand master in the Ku Klux Klan, but there was no evidence found to substantiate it. Charles Scott was a mean, vile man. He taught his son well.

“Anyway, after Devlin raped Naomi, he sold her to a man named Cordell James, the leader of a group called Satan’s Angels.”

“Jesus Christ,” Mercy whispered. “This is like the worst Lifetime movie ever.”

“Cordell James and Devlin Scott were cousins and raised with the same ideology. Raised under the same beliefs that women were nothing but fodder for men to do as they wished. Over the years, Cordell punished Naomi religiously, for just being born, but when she gave birth to twins six months later, well, that’s when Cordell really showed his true colors.”

“Twins?” I asked, looking at Amelia as she nodded.

“I have a twin brother. Reed.”

“Wait,” Vicious interrupted, looking at Montana. “I know that name. You told me that Reed was Steele’s older brother and that Chaos’s mother was the personal plaything to Reed.”

Montana groaned. “That’s what I was told.”

“Well, you were partly right, Montana,” Amelia stated. “Reed is Steele’s half-brother. Different dads. Reed and I were raised in the Mother Chapter of the Satan’s Angels, just outside Birmingham, Alabama. Cordell never gave my mother a moment’s rest. After Reed and I were born, Cordell extracted two more children out of her before she was unable to have anymore. It was her blessing and ultimate curse, because when Cordell learned she was no longer useful to him, he threw her to his men. I was sixteen when Devlin Scott came back around. The second he saw me, I knew I was about to befall the same fate as my mother. Only Cordell refused to sell me. So, Devlin Scott made him a deal. All the men, women, and children he could ever want in exchange for me. Cordell agreed only if Devlin took Reed as well.”

“What happened to Reed?” Payne asked.

“Devlin couldn’t control him. Reed, like Matthew and Jack, ran wild. They did what they wanted without fear of punishment. Reed escaped Devlin’s clutches, leaving me to my fate. I never saw him again. I never saw any of them again until after I gave birth to you, Gideon. I was uneducated and knew nothing, so I went home, when I should have stayed away, because when Cordell realized I was free of Devlin Scott, he called him and made a new deal. Devlin agreed and said he would come get me himself. Only it wasn’t Devlin who retrieved me. It was Snoopy.”

All eyes turned to the old man, who was now sitting, shaking his head. “I didn’t have a choice, Montana. George ordered me. Only I couldn’t do it. When I arrived in Alabama to get Amelia, I saw what those fuckers had done to her. They were no better than Devlin Scott. George had already met with the man several times, even enjoyed all the Trick Pony offered. Instead of following a direct order, I took Amelia and hid her. I made sure she was safe and made her promise me to never go near the Satan’s Angels, her family, or any of the Soulless Sinners’ members again. But it didn’t matter, because when I returned home, George congratulated me and said thanks. That Devlin Scott was happy to have his wife back.”

“How did he find you?” Rage asked, leaning forward in his chair.

“The same way he always did,” Amelia said, laying her right hand on the table. Turning it over, showing us her wrist. “He tracked me.”

“When George learned I didn’t follow his orders, he took his anger out on Happy. He knew there was no one I cared about, so he punished Happy, knowing it would upset Virginia, and in turn, anger me. The man was vile, Malice. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect your mother. I tried. I really did.”

“Gideon, I’m tired.”

Saying nothing, I got to my feet and escorted Amelia upstairs. After ensuring she had everything she needed, I headed back downstairs to find Montana sitting at the bar.

He had said little throughout Amelia’s story.

It was a lot to take in.

Taking a seat next to him, I watched as Arianwen slid a cold bottle of beer my way.

“Your mother settled?”

“Yes.”

“I feel like I should apologize. Say something.”

“There is no need.”

“You realize this is a clusterfuck, right? Got enough shit on our plate already with whatever Graves has and this fucking stupid ghost file. Don’t fucking need Satan’s Angels showing up out of the blue.”

“Did you know?”

Montana turned and looked at me. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? I know I’m an asshole, but I’m not that fucking bad.”

“Malice, I’m going to my room,” Arianwen said stoically before getting up from her seat behind the bar and walking away. I watched as she headed for her room and not mine. I wasn’t sure what to make of that and tried really hard not to read into it, but it still bothered me.

“She’s not talking to me.”

“She’s grieving, asshole. Give her some space.”

Getting up from the stool, I had no intention of doing that.

Ever.