“Not since I’ve been alive. Karlyn is what, twenty-five?”
“Twenty-three,” Reaper confirmed.
“Not one of ours,” Zeus argued. “I’d remember a man from seven fucking years ago.”
“Or he is but is using another road name,” Montana said flippantly. When we all stared at him, he shrugged. “I never knew Dakota even had a fucking road name.”
Reaper’s phone rang, and he answered, “Hello?” He sighed heavily. “Carly, slow the fuck down. Hang on.” He set his phone on the table and hit the speaker. “Say it again, slowly.”
“Who is with you right now?” Carly, Fury’s old lady, asked.
“Me, Montana, King, Morpheus, and Zeus.”
“Fuck, I was afraid of that. Five presidents, all descendants of the original five founders of the Golden Skulls.”
“Carly,” I began, shaking my head. “I’m not related to them. My family is Irish.”
“So is Christian’s; he’s related to the Dohertys. I’ve been running through his family tree. You and Christian are related through Casper O’Malley, King. Casper had a mistress, Meridiana Doherty. That’s Christian’s connection. She was his grandmother.”
“I’m not related to her,” I argued, cutting her off.
“No, you aren’t.”
“Speed it up, Carly,” Reaper rumbled.
“Eamon O’Malley was the son of Casper and his wife, Aileen Healy.”
“Eamon was my grandfather,” I confirmed, still unsure where the hell she was going with this.
“Yes, he may have been a legitimate heir, but he was a bastard. He’d gotten in trouble in Ireland, so his father sent him to the States. That was why Sean Buchanon, Casper’s son-in-law, took over the IRA and then handed it down to his oldest son, Brian.”
“Charlotte! We don’t have time for a fucking history lesson,” Montana shouted, using Carly’s full name.
“Don’t yell at my wife, asshole,” Fury barked into the phone.
“Carly, can you go any faster? Please?” I begged.
“Eamon fathered four children. Braesal O’Malley, Eduardo Cimorelli, Nina Olenski, and Caitlin O’Malley.”
“What the fuck did you just say?” Reaper snarled, standing up and slamming his hands on the table. “Nina Olenski?”
“Yes, Reaper. Eamon O’Malley was Remi’s grandfather.”
Reaper picked up the chair behind him and threw it against the wall. “SON OF A BITCH!”
“I guess that makes me related to your old lady.” I sighed. I’d meant it to lighten the mood, but it fell flat given the circumstances. “How does that make me related to the first five? And which fucking one?”
“It would have to be Goldman,” Montana surmised.
“Montana’s right,” Carly confirmed.
“How the hell did you know that, fucknuts?”
“Because you’re a Doherty. I’m a fucking Stone.” He pointed at Zeus. “He’s a Lombardo, and the big bastard is a Wolf. Goldman was the only one left.”
“Yes. King, your grandmother, Kathleen Flanagan, was the daughter of Rachel Goldman. Making her Edward Goldman’s granddaughter.”
I sat back in my chair, reeling at this new information. “We’re the fucking targets,” I muttered, just as an explosion rang out through the clubhouse.
