Sin & Suffer

by Pepper Winters

  Samson jumped in. “That’s what I always thought, but thanks to Arthur, my eyes have been opened.”

  Arthur said, “I have my own issues with the government. The judicial system leaves a lot to be desired. They believed lies formed by my own father and let your attempted murder go unpunished, sentencing you to eight years with no memory, living all alone.” His voice turned coarse. “Those reasons are personal and no one else’s. Unless it hits them at a deeper level, no one cares about what I’ve been through, or you, or any other stranger. It took me a long time to decide if my reasons for doing this were purely selfish or warranted.”

  I shifted in the chair, completely absorbed by his righteous anger.

  Arthur smiled, telling me with a simple look how deeply immersed he was. “I couldn’t decide, even after soul-searching. So, I put it to a vote. I traveled to numerous biker gangs and spoke to many presidents. I asked them all one thing.”

  “And what was that?” I placed my unwanted drink on the side table and clasped my chilled fingers in the bushel of tulle.

  Arthur smiled grimly. “Why do they do it? Why turn their backs on society?”

  “And their answer?”

  Arthur looked to Samson. “You want to do the honors?”

  Samson ran a hand over his short hair. “The unanimous answer was: because they were sick of being stolen from by a system disguised as the law. They were sick of having their rights tampered with, their wives’ rights, their future children’s rights. They were sick of a future where obedience was punished and lies were granted rewards. That’s why they sought a different kind of life.”

  Arthur nodded. “Sure, there are men who crave the forbidden, the danger, and the downright seedy aspect of living outside the law. Those men will never fit in with society, no matter how it conformed. Rape will never be okay. Robbery will never be okay. But the majority of men I spoke to are hard workers. Ex-army, ex-navy, and men who have given their lives to a corporation only to be royally fucked in return. Families live harmonious existences in the Club with laws that protect each other and their assets rather than penalize them. Sure, a few are still archaic with the way authority is run, but ultimately, they treat most members fairly and choose to live off the grid to protect their loved ones, not to boycott society.”

  I nodded, my mind swimming. “That sounds like the reasons why my father started Dagger Rose. He wanted a sanctuary for hardworking loyal people who were sick of being lied to by the men and women who were supposed to protect their livelihood and futures.”

  “Exactly.” Arthur slapped his hand on his knee. “Once I took over the Corrupts and made them Pure Corruption, our main goal was to be honest and courteous but be ruthless to protect what we’d created.”

  Samson stole the conversation. “That’s all we’re trying to do. We’re trying to show the country what they can have in a society that is out to help them again. Not focused on stealing their rights or taking away their future. I’m not saying the entire protocol is shady, but there are a few men in power that shouldn’t be there. They have to be stopped. And sooner rather than later, before they pick another war or introduce yet another privacy invading requirement that strips all our rights away.”

  My heart raced. “You’re talking about taking on the largest organization in the world.”

  “Not taking it on,” Samson said. “Improving it.”

  Arthur took my hand, stroking my knuckles with a calloused thumb. “We aren’t out to bring anarchy to the country, Buttercup. We’re out to show the truth.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Kill

  What qualified another to dictate what I could and couldn’t be?

  What right did anyone have over another?

  My father had given me life, but did that give him the right to beat me if I didn’t obey?

  My brother shared my blood, but did that give him the right to taunt and manipulate me?

  I didn’t need an answer. I already had one.

  Nobody had the right to make another do what they didn’t want to—especially when it was wrong. —Kill, age fourteen

  It was done.

  My ultimate plan was out in the open and Cleo knew everything.

  My steadfast concentration over almost a decade was aired, admitted, and alive. Trading hadn’t been for wealth or prestige—it was to finance the largest operation in reform we’d ever seen. Pure Corruption’s overhaul wasn’t for Wallstreet’s enjoyment; it wasn’t so small-minded to be about the members or our way of life—it was to show the world that communions who put their followers first thrived. It was to show that men voted into power had the responsibility to govern and direct without constant manipulation or supervision.

  That was what the government forgot. It was so out of touch with its people. So blinded by kickbacks and bought by men through campaigns and under-the-table dealings that they’d become the enemy rather than the savior.

  All of this had a purpose.

  My revenge was multifaceted. Yes, I wanted my father’s blood. But I also wanted payback. This was what kept me going in those pitch-black moments of missing Cleo and wishing for death so I could join her. This was what gave me energy to keep fighting. Keep believing.

  Not to kill my father.

  Not to extract revenge.

  But to make the world better. So no one else had to suffer the betrayal I had.

  “Say something,” I finally murmured.

  Cleo sat frozen, the blue beads on her dress twinkling every time she breathed.

  “It’s a lot to take in.” Samson got up and poured himself another drink. “I was the same when Kill first explained it to me. But if you let it mellow, you’ll see we’re doing it for the right reasons.”

  Cleo swallowed, her hand opening and closing beneath mine. “I honestly don’t know what to say. It’s huge. I can’t get my head around it.”

  I wanted to gather her close and chase away her dumbfounded fear. “I understand. I’m not asking you to follow everything we’re saying, or even appreciate why it’s up to us to do this. But I am asking for your support.”

  Please accept this part of me. Don’t run.

  I hadn’t let myself acknowledge just how fucked I’d be if she said no.

  Cleo’s green eyes latched on to mine, blazing with honesty. “You never have to doubt that. You have it. Forever.”

  A huge weight dissolved.

  I squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

  “But why tell me now?”

  I smiled. “A lot has come into alignment. I’d always promised Wallstreet that I would take my time in the limelight when my father was dealt with. And …”

  How could I tell her that the man who helped organize this—who gave me the confidence and skills to pull this off—would be released soon. He was the linchpin in all of this. He would become the spokesperson and it was up to me to have his throne ready for when he was freed.

  “And …,” Cleo prompted.

  Scooting to the edge of the chair, my leg bounced with nervous energy. Talking about this sort of stuff never failed to energize and stress me out in equal measure. I knew the mammoth task we’d set. I also knew the lies and bad press that would come to light. Nothing about my life would be spared, and in turn—nothing about Cleo’s life either. She was a part of this, even if she didn’t want to be.

  “Wallstreet has been pardoned. He’s just waiting on the final discharge papers and he’ll be a free man again.”

  Cleo’s eyes narrowed. “And he thinks the world will follow him because he’s a white-collar criminal who got done for what exactly? Tax evasion?”

  I shook my head. “No, of course people wouldn’t listen. He’s not exactly an upstanding member of society. But in many ways, he’s exactly what’s needed. He’s willing to donate the fortune he kept hidden from the government to aid those who need it most.”

  Cleo scowled. “So you’re saying he’s going to be a modern-day Robin Hood? Taking from the grubby paws of le
aders and giving back to the penniless public?”

  A grin broke my face. “It’s a rather flattering analogy, but it sort of works.”

  Samson perched on the arm of the chair he’d vacated. “It’s a lot more complicated than that. To pull off something of this scale, we need unlimited resources.” Pointing at me, he smiled. “That’s where the genius comes in.”

  A sharp lance in my skull reminded me that if I didn’t fix my brain soon, all our plans might be in the fucking gutter. My ease and ingrained knowledge was still lost to me. The trades I’d placed yesterday clunky compared to before.

  “And we need members on each side of the fence to be in accordance with one another. Politicians, bikers, journalists, squeaky clean businessmen, and convicted criminals. We all have a part to play.” Samson raised his glass. “So you can see why it’s been a long planned strategy.”

  My thoughts turned to all the other senators and men in power who’d agreed to work with us. Some had taken a lot of persuading with facts and figures. They didn’t believe the blatant lies and forged documents from their departments were true. Others had been waiting for an upheaval like we offered and were only too happy to help. The biggest surprise had come from the local and worldwide MCs. Most of them had been only too happy to band together. For the first time in history, we weren’t fighting against one another but working as one.

  It was a fucking miracle.

  Hopefully, Cleo would see now why I could never leave. When she’d died, I’d tried to replace her with this—given myself over to making other people’s lives so much better than mine could ever be. Giving everything. Giving more.

  And until it was done, I couldn’t abandon it. No matter how much I might want to live a simple life. To have no worries or intricate plans. To have contentedness rather than obsession. What I wouldn’t give to wake up in the morning and only have to care about what position I would take my woman in and for how long.

  But this was global. This was infinite. This was my duty.

  “Yes, but surely this isn’t your fight? It’s the responsibility of—”

  “If we don’t fight, who will?” I asked.

  I’d started this journey with vengeance on my mind for both my father and the system that allowed him to destroy my life. But as time passed, my goals evolved. I became less selfish.

  I wanted others to have the freedom and truth. And I had the means with which to make it happen. The global system was so fragile, so easily tainted by those who were out for themselves. And that was why I was an expert at foreign currency trading. All it took was one piece of misleading news, or mention of war, or market uncertainty by a politician in the pockets of some mega conglomeration, and the dollars fluctuated like crazy, allowing people in the know to swoop in, scoop up untold millions in the trade, and then get out. Insider trading was rife—and not just on the FX market but on everything known to fucking man.

  Stocks. Fuel. Climate change. Property. Medical.

  All of it was guided and directed by puppeteers who had no moral compass.

  Corrupt.

  The world was fucking corrupt.

  Cleo never answered my question, so I did it for her. “If no one fights, it will only get worse. It’s our duty to stand up now … before it’s too late. People are desperate—just like I was before Wallstreet helped me. But I’ll change that. If I can.”

  Cleo glanced between me and Samson. “And you want to be in the limelight? You want to be … what? A politician?”

  My headache pressed harder. “No, I don’t want that. The thought of being open to ridicule and scandal is the last thing I want.”

  “Then … why?” Her forehead furrowed. “Why put yourself forward? Why do something you don’t want when you’ve been through so much?”

  I smiled softly. “I started this when I had nothing to lose. I pledged my life to helping others, hoping to find value for mine since I no longer had you.”

  She gasped.

  “I’ve been planning this for years, Buttercup. Regardless that I now have everything I ever wanted, I can’t turn my back on something that got me through those darkest days. I can’t give up on helping others find happiness and equality.” Lowering my voice, I asked, “Do you understand?”

  Her green eyes shimmered. The love shining there was infinite, decimating my heart all over again. “I … I understand.” Her shoulders squared. “I’m with you every step. What can I do to help?”

  My soul lifted with thanks. I wanted to kiss her so fucking bad. “Nothing yet. I just wanted you to know what the future holds. Wallstreet will be out soon. And then it will be all over the news.”

  Samson cleared his throat, dispelling brutal honesty and changing the subject to less heavier subjects. “You’re okay if I let Duncan and Spears know to begin?”

  I nodded. “Go ahead.”

  Smoothing his trousers, Samson stood. He winced as his legs creaked. “Well, in that case, I’m heading back to my party. Don’t think we need to confirm anything else, but if so, I’ll send you an encrypted email.”

  I stood and shook hands with the senator who Wallstreet had told me to contact. My lessons hadn’t ended when I’d been released from jail—they’d only just begun. I came out of Florida State despising the judicial system and everything to do with bureaucrats, but through Samson and Wallstreet, I’d immersed myself in men and women who wanted change, too—they just didn’t know how to do it.

  “Stay and mingle. Get a few more of these leeches onto your side.” Samson laughed and bent over to kiss Cleo on her cheek. “Lovely to meet you, Ms. Price.”

  Cleo stood, looking as graceful as a fucking ballerina in her heels. “Thank you, Senator. I can’t tell you what a relief it is to finally have some answers.”

  Samson’s eyes softened. “No problem at all. And please, call me Joe. I think we’re all on a first-name basis.”

  Moving to stand beside her, I asked Samson, “You’ll talk to the other cabinet members? Tell them about Wallstreet?”

  “First thing Monday, I’ll go through what we’ve discussed and get the campaign started. The first advertisement will go live at prime-time viewing and then we’ll be in for the long haul.” Unlocking the door, he looked back again. “Once I have the extra funds, it’s all systems full steam.”

  “Good.”

  Samson gave us a quick salute, then disappeared.

  The moment he’d left the room, the air turned thick with questions—all originating from Cleo.

  Grabbing her wrist, I said, “I know we have a lot to discuss. But right now, I need to do something.”

  My cock throbbed in my trousers—like it had the entire meeting. My headache compounded until I couldn’t think straight and the alcohol hadn’t done my hazy vision any good.

  I needed pain relief and I knew how to get it.

  “Do what?”

  I gathered her close. “I meant what I said before. I’m going to have you here.”

  She trembled in my arms. “There’s probably cameras everywhere.” Trying to pull away, she fought a smile from her lips. “Can’t you wait till we get home?”

  I growled and bit her neck. “No chance. Not while you’re in that incredible dress with your hair just begging me to fist it while I ride you.”

  She froze, her skin flushing with heat. “Well, when you put it that way.”

  Chuckling, I nipped at her ear. “You drive me fucking wild.”

  I didn’t know how she felt about everything she’d learned. I didn’t know if she was afraid, proud, or confused. But I did know she hadn’t run. And by staying by my side she made me fucking invincible.

  Lassoing my arm around her, I pulled her from the office. “Come on. Time to attend a different kind of meeting.”

  She trotted beside me in a rustle of skirts and smiles. “Are you doing this to avoid the huge cliffhanger you just left me with? Here I was thinking all you cared about was math and brotherhood—I couldn’t have been more wrong. I want to know mo
re, Art. You can’t dump all that on a girl and then seduce her, you know.”

  I smiled. “Watch me.”

  She tried to act frustrated but she was just as hungry as I was. “If you won’t tell me more now, shouldn’t you at least mingle—like Joe told you to?”

  Smiling at the odd democrat and not pausing to be roped into flowing conversation, I pushed Cleo toward the stairs. “I doubt they’ll miss us for ten minutes or so.”

  “Just ten minutes?” she asked coyly.

  I groaned under my breath as my cock grew harder with every step. “Stop looking at me like that.”

  A sexy glitter entered her gaze. “Fine. I’ll let you hide your secrets about this revolution for a bit longer and play your game.” She swayed closer. “Now, just to clarify, you don’t want me looking at you how? Like I want to devour you? Like I want to pull your trousers down and kneel before you while I wrap my lips around your cock?” Batting her eyelashes, she laughed. “You mean that look?”

  Shit, what was she trying to do to me? One minute she’d been the height of decorum and politeness and now she painted my mind with images of lips and tongues.

  Yanking her to a halt, I pressed her against the wall. Her shoulders slammed against a family picture with Samson and his kids on donkeys in some mountain ranges. My fingers dug into her hip. “Yes, exactly like that.”

  Her body scorched my fingers. Her perfume made me drunk.

  With smoldering eyes, she gazed at my lips. “Wow, I had no idea you had such big plans.”

  I captured her throat. “Oh, you have no fucking idea. I have huge plans when it comes to you.”

  Bigger than governments. Larger than reforms.

  Her body tensed and melted all at the same time. “Oh really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  Nipping at her bottom lip, I pushed away and captured her hand again. “Time to go upstairs. Away from curious bystanders.”