Chance Encounter (God's Reapers MC Book 1)

by Parker, Kara

  Finally, David stepped back and then away, going over to the corner to stand with Rick. He held his hands behind his back, but the two men did not speak to each other. They just stood by a tall brick wall and watched Olivia.

  “Everything’s fine, Officer Waters. I swear it. It’s real nice that you always come and check on me. I really appreciate it. But me and Rick were just talking. It wasn’t nothing bad. I swear it.”

  Olivia looked at the woman, at the bags under her eyes, the bruises on her arms, her cracked and dry skin, her hair a dirty stringy mess. There was desperation in her voice; she was desperate for Olivia to believe her. But there was something else going on here; Olivia was sure of it, and David was in the middle of it. When the time came, would she be able to do it? Would she be able to put David in handcuffs and take him to jail? Would be she be willing to testify against him?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  David could feel the anger radiating from Rick. He looked calm and relaxed, but underneath his calm mask was a furious man who would need to lash out. And he would lash out at Olivia, that much was clear. What was she doing here? The boys were supposed to lead her and Lance away and keep them away. The truck filled with the shipment from Mexico had arrived without issue and was currently locked in the warehouse, a place the cops couldn’t enter without a warrant. Olivia must have figured out that she was being distracted and come back to town; it must have been dumb luck that led her down Marigold Street.

  Rick, stupid Rick getting into a fight with Mike’s newest side-piece. David was furious with Rick. How could he have done something so stupid as to get into a fight with a woman right outside his own warehouse? It was dumb and cocky, and might just get him arrested.

  At least Hillary knew what she was doing. She was convincing Olivia that she was fine, that everything was ok. David could see Olivia softening with every false promise from Hillary that everything was ok. Finally, Olivia nodded and agreed; she turned back around and looked at David and then Mike. Her eyes were unreadable, her face a blank mask.

  “Don’t make us come back here,” she said, turning and walking to her car with Lance following behind. Neither David nor Rick moved. They just watched as the officers got into their car and drove slowly down the street—until they were finally out of sight.

  “God dammit, David,” Rick said, his voice dangerously quiet. “Get out of my sight,” Rick spit at Hillary.

  “What about my stuff, you promised,” Hillary whined desperately.

  “Hil, go,” David said quietly. He needed to get everyone out of here, or at least inside before Olivia came back. He followed Mike inside, staying a few feet away from the furious leader.

  “I put you in charge of keeping the cops off my back. So what the fuck was that?” Rick demanded, his voice was getting louder and louder. They had entered the warehouse and his voice was echoing. The front room of the warehouse had been set up to resemble a sort of reception area. There was a desk with a computer and a few chairs but no one was ever actually sitting in them. It existed solely for the cops and the IRS. They walked through an almost empty office, just a desk with a computer and old shag carpeting. From there, they walked back into the actual warehouse. The front half of it was filled with automotive supplies. Parts to carburetors and other components sat on shelves, but they were just a ruse. Behind that was where the real money was made. Hidden in the back were about twenty workers weighing and packaging their newest shipment.

  “Why is there a cop tapping on my shoulder when I’m having a conversation with a girl, David?” Rick demanded.

  “I’m working on it, Rick. She won’t be bought. I led her out town when the shipment came; she had no idea about that. And that’s what I’m supposed to be hiding from them. The drugs, not you.”

  “Don’t you mistake me, boy,” Rick said, towering over David. “I am this club. You will do what I say, when I say, and when I tell you to keep the cops away that means from everything, myself included. I thought you could handle this, David. But now you tell me that you’re “leading the cops away” distracting them like this is some fucking movie. I want the cops taken care of permanently. That tall bitch might not take the money, but the one who replaces her will. Take her out and don’t let anyone find the body.”

  David felt the world spin around him. He had messed this up. From start to finish he had done this badly. He had let Olivia worm her way into his head. He had treated her differently than other cops, but she had been different. Olivia worked too hard; she cared too much. She answered calls other cops ignored. Instead of hiding away from danger or the more difficult calls, she sought them out. And now it was going to get her killed. He should have offered her a set amount of money, enough that she would have to consider it. But that would have been pointless; she would never have taken a bribe, never.

  “Taking out a cop is kind of big deal, Rick,” David said. “It’s the kind of thing they don’t turn a blind eye to. If we take her out, it will only raise suspicion on us. Doing this brings them right to our doorstep.”

  “Not if you do your job right. Take the girl out to the desert, kill her, and leave her there. There’s nothing that links her to us. Nothing.”

  “She works our streets. She’s answered about three calls—all related to Hillary. That’s a connection.”

  “It’s a lead and barely one at that, and if you don’t tell and I don’t tell, then no one will ever know.”

  No one would ever know. Hardworking, beautiful Olivia would be killed and no one would ever know why or how or when. Her body would never be found. It was wrong that her life was going to end like that, a bullet to the back of the head, no body for the funeral.

  “You took an oath when you joined this club, David,” Rick said. He was done yelling. He was staring over the floor, at the silent workers down there. “You swore to put this club before all else, before family, before love, before women. You swore a blood oath that you would be faithful to this club until your death. Do you remember?”

  “Yes,” David managed to whisper.

  “Hasn’t this club been good to you, David? Hasn’t it always been there when you needed it? Hasn’t it sheltered you, cared for you, healed you when you were sick?”

  “Yes,” David answered.

  “The club has always been there for you, David. I have always been there for you. Now we need you. Promise me that we will not find you wanting, David. That our faith in you has not been misplaced.”

  “It hasn’t,” David said.

  “Good. Call me when it’s finished. But remember the lines aren’t secured,” Rick said. He put one hand on David’s shoulder and held it there for a moment before walking down to the floor.

  David remained frozen in place. He placed his hands on the railing in front of him to steady his shaking legs. His strong hands gripped the railing tighter and tighter. He wanted to rip it out of the wall; he wanted to rip the railing out and send it right through Rick’s gut. Why did Rick need to argue in the middle of the day where anyone could see? Why had Olivia traveled down that street instead of any other? All of his work, all of his planning had meant nothing. The one thing he didn’t want to happen had just happened.

  Bile rose in his throat; he felt like he was going to be sick. He loosened his grip on the railing and let his head hang down. How could he have let this happen? How did he let this spiral so far out of control? He wished that he could go back in time. He would go back and do everything differently. He wouldn’t have flirted with Olivia. He would have offered her tens of thousands of dollars, and he would have convinced her to take it. No matter what the cost would have been, no matter how long they argued, he would have convinced her.

  He would never have slept with her. He would never have allowed her to take him to her home. He would never have sat and had a drink with her. He wouldn’t have thought about her, dreamed about her, fantasized about her. He would have kept his distance and kept it professional. Nothing in his life had ever had stakes this high,
and look at the mess that he had made. The workers on the floor kept glancing up at him. He wished he was down there, still doing the grunt work—no responsibilities, no thought needed. Just weights and measurements. Things that did not require finesse or subterfuge—just measure the right amount and move on. But now, instead of measuring things in grams and ounces, he measured them in the price of a person’s soul. His soul was up for grabs now; Olivia’s was already sacrificed to God’s Reapers.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “All units. All units, report to Eighth and Wolf street, continued on channel ten,” the crackling voice of the dispatch operator interrupted the otherwise silent car ride that Olivia and Lance had been sharing. Olivia had been driving down random streets, lost in thought about David, about what she was going to do with him from here on out.

  It was Lance who switched to the private channel and said, “This is Sierra Five. We are on route.” His call was echoed by dozens of other cars, as they all began to converge on Eighth and Wolff Streets. Olivia turned on the cherry and siren, as her entire body went numb.

  “You know what’s on Eighth and Wolff?” Lance asked her.

  “God’s Reapers clubhouse,” Olivia answered. She was trying so hard to keep her voice even that when she spoke it didn’t even sound like her. Please, she thought, not him. Anyone but him.

  They were ushered past yellow police tape and onto the street. It was a raid, a big one. There was a SWAT team ready to enter the building, and the commissioner was there, surrounded by dozens of lieutenants. Olivia had never felt more like a little fish in a big pond. There was nothing she could do for David here, nothing at all. She could only stand by and watch.

  “Other side of the Wolff. No one comes down here. No one,” a lieutenant said through Lance’s window.

  “Yes, sir,” Lance answered. Olivia felt so numb that she wasn’t sure that any sound would come out if she opened her mouth. But she was good at following orders. Her foot hit the gas and her hands handled the steering, as she drove to the other end of the street. Quickly, she and Lance hung up the yellow police tape and stood behind it, ushering pedestrians, news crews, and everyone else away.

  Olivia couldn’t help but look behind her. She was trying to find one face in a sea of faces. This was bad, really bad. The raid on the club was a good thing; Olivia should have been happy, but instead she felt sick. David didn’t deserve to be in prison; he wasn’t what they thought he was. But she couldn’t do anything. She was a cop; she had taken an oath to protect and serve. Her entire life she had told herself that she wasn’t someone who threw her entire life away for some boy. That was true, she wasn’t, but she couldn't deny her feelings for him anymore. She didn’t want David to be in jail; she didn't want to have to visit him with a pane of glass between them; she didn’t want to have to pretend like she didn’t know him and forget about him. She needed to know if they had him.

  “Go,” Lance said.

  “What?” Olivia said, turning back to face him.

  “You obviously want to be where the action is. I got this. Go. Just don’t get in trouble.”

  “You got this?” Olivia repeated, wondering when Lance ever took the opportunity to do more work.

  “Look, Olivia. I’m trying. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  “Yeah...” she said, her voice trailing off.

  “Then go. I got this.”

  Olivia was grateful. She gave Lance, who finally felt like a partner for the first time, a smile, and then she turned and walked towards the chaos. She walked purposefully, like she had been ordered to walk to a certain place. Lines and lines of bikers stood along one wall, handcuffed to each other, each being processed as they were put into a police van. She searched for that clean-shaven face, his shaggy blond hair. But he was nowhere to be seen. She looked into one of the vans, but he wasn’t there. She checked the arrest list, but he wasn’t there either.

  Olivia walked back to Lance, unsure what to think. David hadn’t been here. Luck had been on his side—but for how much longer? This was not going to be good. The club members were going to get mad and retaliate against the police, and it could mean a war.

  Olivia spent the day under the hot baking sun, repeating: “Please move along. Nothing to see here,” so many times that the words had lost all meaning. Finally, her shift ended. Exhausted and dirty, with sand in every nook and cranny of her body and uniform, Olivia headed home. She parked her car in the building’s lot and drug herself to the elevator. She was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and she still wasn’t sure what she was going to do about David Creely. She was desperate to know where he was, but not foolish enough to go looking for him.

  The elevator reached her floor, and Olivia slowly walked down the hall, turning at the corner and pulling out her keys to open the door. All of the sudden, she felt someone grab her by her hair and push her head against her still closed door.

  “Hi Olivia. Remember me?” David demanded, whispering into her ear. It only took one second for her adrenaline to kick in and all the tiredness fled from her body. Olivia slammed her right foot onto David’s so hard, she heard something crack. He yelped out in pain and loosened his grip, and she elbowed him in the stomach and spun around, grabbing her gun from her jacket and pointing it at David.

  He stood in front of her gasping for breath and glaring daggers into her.

  “How dare you come back to my house,” Olivia hissed at him.

  “How dare I?! You raided my clubhouse today; most of my brothers are in jail on bullshit charges. Was it you who told them to go after us? You the nosy cop who’s always in everybody’s business?” He spat at her.

  “I’m doing my job. I made that very clear to you on several occasions,” she responded. “And I didn’t know about the raid today.”

  “Bullshit!” David said. “The club is going to blame this on me, Olivia. It’s going to ruin me!”

  “Then maybe you should quit the club,” she responded. Her gun was still pointed at his chest, and she tightened her grip on it.

  “You were right,” he said, disdain and disgust dripping from his voice. “We never should have slept together. You know the expression, ‘You lay down with dogs, you get fleas.’ I don’t know what I should have expected from some whore cop who goes home with random men she meets at the bar. You understand nothing about loyalty and brotherhood. Don’t ever let me see you again, Olivia. Don’t ever involve yourself in my club’s business. You see something on the street, you keep driving, or I will make sure that you never see anything again.”

  David turned and walked away, Olivia’s gun following him as he turned the corner and eventually left down the stairs. Her hands were shaking as she opened her door, slipped inside, and then slammed the door closed, locking all of the locks. She raced around her apartment, closing the blinds on the windows, keeping the lights off. Finally, there was nothing left to do, and alone in the darkness, Olivia crawled into her bed and cried as silently as she could.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Just drive. For so long that had been David Creely’s solution to everything. Life got too complicated, or money got too tight—just drive. He would put on his boots and jacket, get on his bike, and just drive. Sometimes he never came back. He could still remember the girl he had met in Columbus, Ohio. She had been a bored secretary who had taken a liking to him. She lived in a cookie-cutter condo, the furniture and décor had come with the place, and she had never changed it in any way. She had so little personality it was scary, but she had been terribly lonely and so David had spent a week eating her food and sharing her bed—until he got up one day for a drive and never came back.

  But he couldn’t do that anymore. When he had joined God’s Reapers, he had taken an oath of loyalty to the club. He was a member for life and that worked both ways. The club couldn’t leave him, and he
couldn’t leave it—even if three quarters of the members were currently sitting in a holding cell at the precinct.

  “GTG,” the text had read. It stood for Go to Ground. It was their version of an SOS or a red alert. The text had come in seven hours ago, and David hadn’t stopped driving since it had come in. It meant the cops were there; it meant that people were looking for them. There were several safe houses, but there was no way of knowing which ones the cops knew about. So, for the moment, David was just driving. Driving out into the desert—as far as his gas tank would take him.

  The warehouse on Marigold had been raided, as well. Despite all of David’s best efforts, they had found out about it. No doubt they had easily made their way from the fake reception area, past the fake warehouse, and into the real warehouse where the real business happened. It was over for the Reapers; they had been caught with enough illegal drugs to warrant federal charges. Any Reapers that the cops arrested were going to go away for a long time.