CHAPTER 27
SCOTTY
I slid a vanilla biscotti K-Cup—Sky’s favorite—into my Keurig and hit the brew button. Last night, we’d alternated between holding each other, and making love with a desperation I couldn’t deny. Around three in the morning we both passed out, and I’d held her tightly all night long, only letting go to come down and start some coffee for her. She didn’t have class, but I wanted her out of here early in case the Sons came for me today like I suspected they would.
She didn’t need to see that.
Didn’t need to be put in the middle if Tate came.
I’d never really understood love before, but I got it now. It was putting someone first. It was always thinking of them before thinking of yourself. It was trusting them with the most vulnerable parts of yourself, the ones you hid from the rest of the world, and believing them when they swore they’d never use those things against you. It was a big-ass giant leap of faith you took if you wanted to be with them, and I wanted to be with her.
So I was taking that damn leap.
And hoping I came out of it alive.
I’d done my best to reassure her that Tate would never kill me, but I had no way of knowing if that was true or not. More likely than not, I was a dead man walking.
But she didn’t need to know that.
When I was gone, she’d need her brother.
As the coffee finished brewing, I heard her come up behind me. I rubbed my jaw and pulled another mug out of the cabinet for myself.
“Good morning, sugar,” I said without turning around.
“I prefer you call me Brian,” a deep, un-Sky-like voice said from behind me. “But whatever floats your boat.”
I stiffened. I wore nothing but a pair of boxers and felt way too damn vulnerable. “Brian. What a pleasant surprise. Want some coffee?”
“I think we both know what I want.” He came up beside me, rested against the cabinet casually, and crossed his arms, looking anything but casual. His mouth was pinched tight, his eyes were cold, and his Glock stood out against the white of his shirt. “Where’s the girl?”
“Upstairs in bed,” I said slowly. “Let me wake her before you do anything. As you can see, I’m unarmed. Let me go up and—”
“No.”
“I don’t want her to see you. She doesn’t understand,” I said quietly, keeping my voice hushed. “I’m just trying to make it easier on her. She doesn’t need to be here to see this.”
“Then you should have kicked her out last night.” He crossed his arms. “You can call her down, but you’re not leaving my sight . . . Agent Donahue.” He let out an angry breath. “What the hell, man?”
“Sky?” I called out, ignoring Brian’s glare. There would be plenty of time for him to demand answers out of me. Now I needed to take care of her, and clearly I wouldn’t be doing it my way. “Get dressed and come down. We have comp—”
“I’m already dressed,” she said, coming into the kitchen, yawning. Her hair was a mess, but she’d thrown on her clothes from yesterday. “Is that coffee—?”
She broke off when she saw I wasn’t alone.
Brian inclined his head. “Ms. Daniels.”
“No.” She rushed to my side, putting herself between me and Brian. “No.”
“Sky . . .” I picked her up and set her aside, giving my back to the other man. She stared at him over my shoulder, her cheeks flushed. “We talked about this. I’ll be fine. When this is all over, after they jump me out and let me go, I’ll come to you, and you’ll see you worried over nothing.”
Brian snorted.
Sky shook her head. “But Tate—”
“Is only doing his job. If he hurts me, it’s only because he has to. Not because he wants to.” I forced a smile and cradled her chin in between my fingers. “Hey, I have a request. Can you go hang with my friend Molly? She’s Chris’s fiancée. She can keep you company.” And if things went sour . . . Chris could help pick up the pieces. Sky would need that. He’d keep her safe, too, which I needed to know would happen. “Please?”
“I don’t want to go,” she said, her voice cracking as she grabbed my wrist and didn’t let go. “Let me come with you.”
“No way. It won’t be a place for you. Go to Molly, and when this is over, I’ll come back to you,” I said.
Brian made a choking sound behind me. If he kept it up, he’d see my fist, up close and personal, and I wouldn’t give a damn that I was kicking the ass of one of the men responsible for deciding my fate. “We need to get moving.”
“And if you don’t?” she whispered, ignoring Brian. “If you don’t come back to me?”
“Then you’ll be okay. You have to be. For me.” I kissed the tip of her nose. “But I’ll be back. Okay?”
“You better be.” She nodded, closing her eyes. “I love you.”
Brian cleared his throat. “Scotty . . .”
“I love you, too,” I said, ignoring him. “Let me write down Molly’s address for you.”
I handed her the address, kissed her one last time, poured her coffee into a to-go cup, and then I walked her to the door, holding her hand, Brian trailing after us. When I tried to pull free, she wouldn’t let me go. I forced a laugh. “Sky . . . you have to let go.”
“If he hurts you, I’ll never forgive him,” she said.
The sun was shining down on her strawberry blonde hair, and the tree overhead cast shadows over her eyes. A bird sang from behind her somewhere, and a bunny hopped into my backyard. Everything was calm, and quiet, and normal. Everything but us, anyway.
“You have to. He’s your brother.”
Brian stiffened. “You need to go, Ms. Daniels. Now.”
“But—” she started, still holding on to my hand with a death grip.
“It’ll only be worse for Scotty if we’re late,” Brian warned. “They’re waiting for us.”
I kissed her one last time, lingering over her tear-streaked lips. “See you soon, sugar.”
Nodding, she turned and left without another word.
After her car pulled away, Brian cleared his throat. “You lied to her. You won’t be coming back.”
“I know.” I smiled and waved until she turned the corner. “But at least she won’t blame Tate for it. He can tell her I was reassigned, and couldn’t come back.”
Sighing, he shook his head and picked up a bag he’d set next to the door. “You know the drill. Shower time.”
After I showered with the shower curtain open so Brian could watch and make sure I didn’t pull any fast ones, like tucking away a hidden wire, I walked into my bedroom, running my hands through my damp hair. Brian tossed a set of clothing at me I’d never seen before. Another way to ensure I wasn’t wired. They were being smart.
If I planned to have any tricks up my sleeve, I’d be screwed right now.
After I dressed, Brian frowned at me. “Why did you do it?”
“Why did I do what? You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Become a fed.” He rested his hand on his Glock. “Why’d you do it?”
I eyed the hand on his weapon. Maybe I’d be dying here, in my house, in the same room my mother breathed her last breath. It was almost poetic. A cold calmness washed over me. “I wanted to clean up Steel Row. Make it a place tourists came to see, instead of being number one on the list of areas for them to avoid.”
Brian’s frown deepened. “Were you going to turn us in?”
“I’m DEA, not ATF.” I shrugged a shoulder. “It wouldn’t have come to that.”
“But if it had?” Brian persisted.
“Then I would have done my damn job, and slapped the cuffs on you myself.”
Brian’s face flushed with anger. “Start walking.”
I walked down the stairs and out the door. When I passed two other Sons waiting for me, I didn’t even acknowledg
e them. We must’ve taken too long, and Tate had sent reinforcements. Once outside, I walked right up to Brian’s truck and slid into the passenger seat. The two recruits got in a Ford Focus. They’d follow us to the docks, then leave.
Brian started the engine.
We drove in silence. Apparently I didn’t have much to say on the way to my death. No wise words. Nothing that would live on after they put a bullet in my brain. Instead, I would meet my end with a silent dignity. If they chose to kill me, I’d hold my head high and accept it. When we passed the clubhouse, I glanced at it in confusion, because we went right by it without stopping.
That meant—shit.
It was clear how they thought this was going to end. If we were doing this in the warehouse as opposed to the clubhouse . . . I was definitely a dead man walking.
No way I was getting out of this alive.
I’m sorry, Sky.
I tapped my fingers on the window, watching as we pulled off the exit for the docks in Steel Row. He pulled into an area I’d never seen before. The Sons owned a small section of the waterfront, with an empty warehouse that we used for deals. It would have been the perfect place for murder. I would know. I’d seen it used once or twice, on traitorous members such as myself. Instead of that warehouse, though, we pulled up next to a small, dilapidated building that was practically a shed.
“New property?” I asked.
Brian parked. “We needed somewhere the feds didn’t already know about.”
I said nothing to that.
“Why didn’t you run when you had the chance?” he asked as he took his keys out of the ignition, white-knuckling them.
I wasn’t going to tell him about Tate threatening my family, because as far as they knew, I didn’t have any family left . . . besides Chris, who wasn’t actually blood. If I was going to die, I’d do it while keeping my brother’s secret safe. “Because I didn’t want to. I’m exactly where I need to be.”
“Under trial?” he asked incredulously.
Shrugging, I undid my seat belt.
“You’re protecting someone. Or something.” Brian studied me, and I could practically hear him thinking, trying to figure out why I hadn’t run for my life like any sane man would have. “But what could it be?”
I opened the door, not answering him.
Soon enough, I’d be gone, and he’d stop worrying about why. Walking right up to the entrance, I tugged the handle, but it was locked. I turned around, half expecting Brian to be pointing a gun at my head. Was this where it was going to end?
He held up a pair of cuffs. “Hands behind your back, Agent.”
I stiffened, but did as told. The scent of the salt water from the ocean mixed with the smell of decaying fish parts and old, musty wood. Shivering slightly against the brisk fall air coming off the water, I stood completely still as Brian cuffed me. As soon as he finished he checked my pockets, and once he confirmed I was still clean of anything suspicious, he opened the door for me.
We walked in to exactly what I suspected to see.
Since Tommy was still missing, along with Frankie . . . that left the rest of the living lieutenants as my judge and jury: Tate, Brian, Roger, and Jamie. Chris was nowhere in sight. While I was secretly happy he wouldn’t be around to do something stupid, his absence wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
When they all continued to stare at me, frowning, I forced a grin. I hated tense silences more than I hated that I’d let myself get in so deep that the only way out was a body bag. “Hi, guys. How’s it going? It’s chilly outside today, huh? At least it’s not snowing again. I’m sick of that shit.”
Brian shook his head and locked the door. “You’ve got a real pair, Donahue.”
“So I’ve been told,” I said dryly, fixing my eyes on the oldest member in the room. He had the hottest temper and would be the first to pull the trigger. He already had a hand on his gun, like he couldn’t wait for the order to shoot. “How’s it going, Roger?”
Roger stepped forward, glowering, face flushing red. “You won’t think this is so damn funny when a bullet is lodged in your—”
“Go ahead,” I snarled, stepping forward to go at him, even though my hands were cuffed behind my back. If I was going to die, might as well get it over with quickly. No point putting it off, or pretending to have a trial. At this location, it was clear how this was going to end. If Tate thought I’d be walking away from this, we’d be at the clubhouse. “Do it.”
Brian grabbed my arm and hauled me back. “Easy.”
“No.” I struggled to free myself. “Enough bullshit. If you’re gonna do it, just fucking do it already. I’m done waiting. You wanna shoot me? Shoot me. I don’t give a damn.”
Roger lifted his gun, his wrinkled hand holding it securely. “Gladly, you dirty—”
“Enough,” Tate interjected, stepping between us.
We both fell silent.
“Put the gun down. Now.”
Roger didn’t lower his gun.
“We all know why we’re here.” Tate stepped forward, tugging on his tie, and forcibly pushed Roger’s hand down. “Scotty Donahue is a fed. A DEA agent, to be exact. He’s been living among us, pretending to be one of ours. He’s been lying to us. Endangering us.”
I squared my jaw when they all eyed me like I was a snake. “I never endangered you.”
“You never told the DEA about us?” Tate cocked his head. “Never, I don’t know, maybe . . . told them our plan to take down Bitter Hill once and for all?”
He knew damn well I had.
But what happened to them in that parking lot wasn’t on me.
“They were working with you in that op, not against you. They saved the first wave of Sons’ asses, because they were worried I might be in that group, and swooped in to stop that attack before you lost more men.”
Brian rocked back on his heels. “And if they’d known you weren’t?”
“They would have waited until shots were fired and then arrested everyone, and you know it,” I snapped.
Tate nodded. “I do. I think we all do.”
I didn’t say anything as they nodded.
There was nothing to say.
“Were you operating alone? Is there another undercover agent?” Tate rubbed his jaw, looking like he was thinking, but I knew better. He’d rehearsed this speech long before today. He always did. A good leader was always prepared. “Or an informant?”
I gritted my teeth. If this was heading where I thought it was . . . “No, sir. I worked alone.”
“I see.” He paced in front of me, still rubbing his jaw. “You pretended to be one of us. You turned on your brothers and sold us out for a badge.”
A murmur of assent filled the big room, echoing off the cement walls and floors.
“I was both, an agent and a Son, but the time for leading a double life is over.”
“You can’t be both,” Tate agreed. “When I found out your secret, I told you you’d have to choose, and you chose them, not us. Your loyalty is to them, not us.”
I lifted my chin. “Yes.”
Brian’s face flushed, and he fisted his hands.
Roger cursed under his breath and kicked a metal machine of some sort.
Jamie just stared.
“So you knew, when you came to me and asked for a chance to be one of my men, that you would be betraying us the whole time,” Tate said slowly.
It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway.
Roger lifted his gun again, pointing it at me.
I smirked at him.
Jamie ran his hand down his face, looking upset.
It was so quiet in the room that I swore I could hear a clock ticking. It was counting down to my last breath, and it was starting to go faster, cutting my time down even more.
“So it was always them,” Tate finally said
.
I tore my gaze off Roger and nodded again. “Yes. I tried to do right by the Sons, too, tried to balance on the line, but no more.”
“Why?” Jamie asked.
“I don’t want to see another dead kid bleeding out at my feet. I want to clean up the city, and the DEA knew that the best way to make a difference was from the inside. Steel Row could become a safe place again.”
Brian shook his head. “That’s impossible.”
“Maybe.” I locked eyes with him. “But look at what happened with Bitter Hill. They won’t be recruiting from the high schools any time soon.”
Roger laughed.
“I respect that.” Tate nodded. “Or I would have . . . if your path to cleaning up the city wasn’t running directly through us.”
I shrugged.
“You say you were alone in this,” Tate added.
I narrowed my eyes on him. I thought we’d moved past this topic. “Yes. I was absolutely alone.”
“No one helped you from the inside.”
I tugged against my cuffs. “No one.”
“Bring him out,” Tate said, tipping his head toward the office.
I stiffened as Roger went to the door, opened it, and entered the room. “Bring who out?”
All too quickly, Roger came out . . .
And so did Chris.
Son of a bitch.
He had his hands cuffed behind him, like me. When he was led out, his mouth bleeding, more than likely from someone’s fist crashing into it, we locked gazes. The resignation he felt was there, loud and clear, for all to see. It mirrored my own.
My gut tightened, and my heart sped up, and I saw red.
Motherfucking red.
I growled, lurching forward, gaze locked on Tate. “You promised me.”
Brian grabbed me from behind, stopping me. “Easy, Agent Donahue,” he said, low, his voice almost nonexistent. His grip, however, was very clear. “Don’t be stupid.”
“Chris, tell Agent Donahue what you told me,” Tate said, ignoring me, his jaw tight.
Chris shot me an apologetic look, and I knew what he was going to do before he opened his mouth. I could see it. “It was me. I’m the agent, not him.”
Dare to Lie Page 26
