by Cat Mason
“Be serious, Schrader.” Rolling my eyes, I shove his feet to the floor. “You can’t compare everything to getting a piece of ass.”
“Ro, I’m a man,” he winks. “We come out of a vagina, then spend our entire life tryin’ to get back up in there as often as possible. I will forever compare everything to pussy. Goals are goals.”
Shaking my head, I grab one of the bags of food and peek inside. The smell of cream cheese wontons and pepper steak make my stomach rumble with hunger. Arranging the containers, I make a plate for Jinks then reach up to place it on the desk next to his stack of empty energy drink cans and beer bottles before making my own. “These are my favorite.” Grabbing the wonton from my plate, I take a bite, groaning when the crispy sweet taste of deep fried goodness explodes on my tongue.
“Mine too.”
Jensen walks into the room, his smile spreading as he strides my way. Dropping his hand to my shoulder, he bends down and presses a quick kiss to my lips before stealing a bite himself. “Mmm,” he purrs, his lips twitching up into a sexy smirk that has me pressing my thighs together to ease the burn it causes. His smile widens, obviously noticing my body language. “I’m starving.”
“Everything go okay?” Schrader asks. Grabbing a box of chow mein, he starts eating it right out of the container with his fingers.
“He’s on board,” Jensen answers with a nod, his eyes moving between Schrader and me. “I’ll catch everyone up at the table.”
An alarm goes off on the wall beside Jinks. “Fuck.” He jolts up in his seat, fingers flying over the keyboard as images from outside flash up on the screen. “Yo, Prez. We’ve got cops.”
Every one of us are on our feet in seconds. Rushing out the front doors of the clubhouse, Jensen shifts me behind him as Chief McKelvy and two other uniformed police officers make their way toward us from their patrol cars. “Jensen Stone, Roanne Frazier, and Jason Schrader,” the shorter of the two men says, his dark eyes scanning each of us. “The three of you are wanted for questioning in a missing person case.”
“Got a warrant, Pig?” Schrader asks, lighting a cigarette. Jensen and I both shoot glares at Schrader. “What?” He shrugs, blowing out a puff of smoke. “That’s a legitimate fuckin’ question, man. If I’m gettin’ cuffed there better be a warrant or a safe word.”
“Chief,” I start, maneuvering around Jensen.
“The hell is this shit?” Jensen interrupts, his arm wrapping around my waist the moment my feet hit the steps. Hauling me back against his brick wall of a chest, his body vibrates with anger as he towers over me protectively. “If you have more questions about Al, you could’ve just picked up the damn phone.”
“Not here about Roanne’s father,” Chief McKelvy informs us, stopping at the bottom of the steps. “Knoxville police reached out this morning about a missing person case. Woman named Olivia Rose. Your names came up. I figured a friendly face might make this go more smoothly.”
My body tenses. My mind already starting to put things together. Olivia is missing? Immediately, dread settles in my gut. I may not like the woman, because of the situation, but that doesn’t mean I wanted anything to happen to her.
“Friendly,” Schrader snorts, earning another glare from Jensen and myself. “You’re about as friendly as a rattlesnake in a duck pond.”
McKelvy stiffens, his mouth pressing into a hard line. “Let’s go, smartass.”
Jensen, Schrader, and I are separated into separate cars and taken to the police station. As I expected, the minute we are instructed toward individual interrogation rooms, Jensen immediately starts to protest, but his ranting does no good. Chief McKelvy is not calling the shots, and at this point, I am not sure he wants to.
Escorted down the hall, I am placed in the same room as the last time I was here. Thankfully, this time, I am not left alone with my thoughts for very long before Agent Laswell and one of the officers who came to the clubhouse walk into the room. “Always a pleasure, Roanne,” Agent Laswell says, closing the door behind them before making his way over to me. The folder he tosses to the table before he sits makes my hands tremble. Sitting back in the chair, he blows out a breath and meets my eyes. “I’ve asked K.P.D. to allow me to speak with you while they handle your friends. Officer Cooper will be sitting in as well,” he says, jerking at the collar of his dark green dress shirt. “Can you tell me how you know Olivia Malcolm-Rose?”
“I don’t really,” I shrug. Taking a breath, I decide to give him as much truth as I can without adding my own speculations or any of the pieces I feel are not my story to tell. Along with not giving him anything that would cause trouble for Jensen or the club. “Well, not directly, I mean,” I begin to explain when he looks confused. “She’s a friend of my dad’s. I went to see her shortly after he went missing.”
“Escorted by Mr. Stone and Mr. Schrader?”
I nod. “I figured it best not to go alone.”
“Oh?” His brow quirks up, questioningly.
“I’ve learned, recently, that the world isn’t as safe a place as I once thought,” I reply, arching a brow of my own. “Can’t be too careful. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course,” he nods, tapping his fingers on the folder. “And you haven’t seen or heard from Ms. Rose since?”
“No.” Shaking my head, I meet his eyes straight on, not wanting there to be any doubt in his mind that I am giving him the damn truth.
Laswell nods thoughtfully. Flipping open the folder, he taps a sheet of paper. “K.P.D. interviewed the man at the front desk. It seems Ms. Rose rarely entertained visitors. In fact, according to the visitor’s log, you were the only guests she has had since moving in.”
“That’s not true,” I argue, remembering the photo I saw the day we went to see Olivia. “My father visited her regularly. She also had family.”
“Interviewing your father isn’t an option. Now, is it, Miss Frazier?” Cooper bites out coolly, causing me to ball my fists. Stepping forward, he shuffles through the papers and begins arranging them into three piles in the center of the table. In the center, are photos of Olivia’s apartment. “There were no signs of forced entry, but they did find signs of a struggle inside the residence,” Cooper says, his dark eyes locking on mine. Pushing the stack closer to me, his inquisitive stare hardens, as if waiting for me to crack under the pressure. “Looks like you’re a dangerous woman to be in close contact with, Miss Frazier.”
“Are you accusing me of something?” I ask, leaning up in my chair. “If I went there with the intention of hurting that woman, why the hell would I sign in at the front desk?”
“Just looking at the facts,” he assures me, holding up his hands. “One of those being how you were the last person to see both your father and Ms. Rose before they disappeared.”
“Well, it doesn’t escape me that your focus is skewed as hell,” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest, annoyed with his tone.
Cooper and Laswell look at each other before turning their quizzical expressions back toward me. “Where should we be focusing, Roanne?” Laswell asks, running a hand over his dark blonde hair. “I’m curious to hear your theory on this.”
Swallowing hard, I shake my head. “I don’t have one. I just want my dad back. That won’t get accomplished by focusing your time on interrogating me like a criminal. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Maybe not,” Cooper interjects, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Though some might say you were guilty by association. That’s enough for, at least, a hold in my book.”
“By association?” I ask, then realization sets it. Shaking my head, I sigh. “Officer Cooper, if I’m guilty of anything, it’s believing the police actually give two shits about finding my father. Now, either you let me walk out that door, or you pick up the goddamn phone and call my lawyer.” Leaning up in my seat, I brace my forearms on the table, narrowing my eyes on him. “I won’t even ask for a glass of water from you without legal representation.”
Cooper’s shoulders sti
ffen, his face hardening as he returns my angry glare. Clearing his throat, Agent Laswell pushes to his feet. “Officer Cooper, could you give me a moment alone with Miss Frazier, please?”
“Have it your way,” he replies, turning for the door. “I’ll let ‘em know she lawyered up.”
Storming out of the room, Officer Cooper slams the door, making me jump in my seat. Reaching across the table, Agent Laswell grabs my hand. “No one believes you hurt your father or Ms. Rose. I know I sure as hell don’t think you did. You’re here of your own free will, at this point.”
“There’s a but in there,” I snort, rolling my eyes.
“But,” he continues, his face serious. “Officer Cooper’s isn’t the only one missing the bigger picture here. Open your eyes, Roanne,” he pleads, squeezing my hand. “When this goes bad, and it’s about to, you’re going to be the one who gets hurt. Because you’re too blind to see what you’re walking into.” His demeanor changes, his eyes hardening. “Or who you’re sleeping with.”
“Alright, that’s more than enough.” Pushing to my feet, I move for the door. “This conversation’s over.”
Flinging open the door, I storm up the hallway. I don’t have any idea where I am going, since Jensen and Schrader are still probably being questioned, but anywhere is better than back there, listening to that shit. When I reach the front doors, I spot Colt on his bike out front parked beside D.A. in the black cargo van. Shoving through the doors, I head for them.
“Roanne!” Laswell says, his fingers wrapping around my arm, stopping me in my tracks. Whipping me around to face him, he grips both my arms tightly, shaking me. “If you go back there, you’ll end up just like your father.”
“Let me go,” I bite out, fighting against him.
“Get your goddamn hands off my woman, Dick.” Jensen’s voice sounds murderous. Meeting his eyes over Agent Laswell’s shoulder, the rage burning in them makes me shiver. “No one touches her.”
Laswell’s body stiffens, but he doesn’t release his grip. “You think his brand on your ass will save you?” he asks, his eyes not leaving mine. “You’re in more danger now than you’ve ever been. Every enemy will come after you just because you’re his weakness.”
“Wrong,” Jensen barks, grabbing my arm and yanking me into his body. “I have no motherfuckin’ weaknesses.” Pointing his finger at Laswell, his stare hardens. Colt and D.A. are at our backs in seconds, ready to back Jensen up. “She doesn’t need your help,” Jensen growls possessively. “Stay the hell away from her.”
“Fine.” Agent Laswell’s eyes move to me. Holding up his hands, he takes a step back. “Message heard. Loud and clear.” Turning, he yanks open the door and disappears inside the police station.
“You good?” Jensen asks, looking me over.
I nod. “Where’s Schrader?”
“Posin’ for his mugshot,” he replies, shaking his head. “K.P.D. came at him with some bullshit about an outstanding warrant for indecent exposure and public intoxication from a few years back. Shit won’t hold up. He’ll be out by morning.”
“Need to get back, Brother,” Colt says, clapping Jensen on the back. “Table’s waitin’.”
Jensen nods. Wrapping his arm around me, he guides me down the steps toward the van. Opening the door, he releases his hold to help me inside. Settling in the seat, I can’t help looking up at the doors through the windshield. With one fist balled tightly at his side, Agent Laswell paces as he talks on his cell phone. Even from here I can see the tension coming off him.
“What the hell was that” I mutter, feeling sorry for whoever is on the other side of the call.
“That was the last time that prick puts his hands on you,” Jensen says, dropping into the seat beside me. Slipping his arm along the seat, behind my head, his jaw ticks as he watches Laswell carefully. “Next time, I’ll rip his arms straight out of the sockets.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I reply, tilting my head to look at his profile.
“I know,” he admits, his eyes locked on Laswell’s as he stares out the doors. “I also know shit with him is far from fuckin’ over.”
Chapter Sixteen
Stone
I could smell the bullshit the moment I stepped outside the clubhouse and spotted McKelvy with the Knoxville cops. The fuckers were grabbing at straws; I knew it from the damn jump. Had they really believed we had anything to do with Olivia’s disappearance, they sure as hell would have had warrants and brought a fuck ton of armed to the teeth backup to go over the entire compound with a fine-toothed comb.
It’s crystal clear that the K.P.D. are pawns in this shit. The same as Chief McKelvy. Goddamn puppets, their strings being pulled by that fucker, Laswell. The golden question is why? The only thing that comes to mind is that he has his own hidden agenda.
One that has fuck all to do with finding Ro’s father or Olivia.
I wanted to rip Laswell’s fucking head off when I walked out and saw him shaking my girl like a rag doll. Today is his lucky day. Because, had I been wearing my gun, I would have put a bullet in his head without blinking. I would have gladly taken my twenty-five to life knowing that he would never put his goddamn hands on her again.
Everyone is on edge when we get back to the clubhouse, residual adrenaline still lingering in the air from having cops show up on the lot unannounced. Generally, Chief McKelvy gives us a heads up when shit is brewing or about to blow back our way. Instead, he took advantage of the opportunity to try and shake me. Old man didn’t rattle me.
He pissed me off.
The prepay in my pocket buzzes as Ro and I make our way inside. Fishing it out of my jeans, I check the screen. Not recognizing the number, I release my hold on her and press a kiss to her cheek. “Need to get this. Let Colt know I’m in the chapel,” I tell her, then head into the through the double doors, needing privacy. “Yeah?”
“Hello, Stone. Seems we have some unfinished business.”
“Wright,” I bite out, kicking the doors closed.
“Have time to chat?” he asks, and I can hear the fucking smile in his voice.
“Little late for ransom demands, isn’t it?”
“I don’t have Frazier,” he replies with a laugh. “I only arranged a small distraction and secured delivery for a friend in exchange for business and financial records. My associate is the one who demands Alfred pay for his past sins.”
“Is that so?” His callous tone makes me want to slit his throat.
Wright laughs again. “Alliances are often formed because of monetary gain, Stone. Common goals can deepen those bonds. Originally, I had no reason for vengeance against any of you. My sole interest was money. That changed when—” Stopping mid-sentence, he growls low in his throat. “You took my son.”
“Don’t worry,” I assure him. “I showed Brandon a good time before I put a bullet in his head.”
“I’m going to kill you,” he bites out. “Every last goddamn one of you.”
Now it is my turn to laugh. “You want me, motherfucker?” I taunt, challenging him. “You’ve got me. Name your time and place. I’ll slice you open from neck to nuts and throw you into the same fuckin’ hole I threw your kid in.”
“Greedy Creek Road,” he bites out. “I’ve got a cabin and a barn out there. Half a mile passed the last turn. Midnight.”
“Tell that friend of yours to sleep with one eye open,” I ground out. “When I’m done with you, I’m comin’ for them too.”
“They asked that I handle another delivery. That’s actually the reason for my call,” he replies, ignoring my threat. “I do hope Roanne enjoys it. Though, soon enough, she can see it all up close.”
His laughter fades as I drop the phone to the table. Flinging open the doors, I frantically scan the room. “Where’s Ro?” I shout, shoving around Colt.
“Outside,” Shy says, gesturing toward the opened doors. “Hoss said a courier needed her signature. Doc’s with her.”
Running out the door, I spot Roanne and
Doc talking to the delivery driver. Taking the clipboard from her, he hands her a large manila envelope. Leaping over the railing, I haul ass toward them. “Stop!” I shout, yanking the envelope from her. My eyes land on the delivery guy, then drop to the package. The sender’s name immediately grabs my attention.
Brushing her fingers over her father’s name, scribbled in the top left corner, Roanne gasps. “Jensen,” she shouts, her voice cracking. “Give it back.”
Meeting her eyes, I shake my head. “It’s not from him.” Opening the envelope, I peek inside quickly. The relief that it wasn’t a fucking bomb is short lived when I realize what the contents of the package really are.
Photos.
“Hoss, take Ro inside,” I say, turning my back to them. “Shy could probably use some help in the kitchen.”
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not standing right here, Jensen,” she barks, shoving at my back with both hands. “I’m not going anywhere until I see what’s in that envelope.”
Tucking everything back inside the envelope, I hand it off to Doc. “Get everyone at the table. This can’t wait.” Nodding his head, he turns and walks away. Blowing out an exasperated breath, I turn to face a very gorgeous and very fucking angry, Roanne. As hot as she is when she is pissed, I don’t have the time to enjoy her mood properly. “You’re gonna have to trust me to handle this shit.”
“Like hell I will,” she argues, shoving me again.
“Don’t have time for this shit, woman,” I warn, making her nostrils flare.
“And I’m not in the mood for your macho man, alpha male, biker bullshit,” she snaps, jabbing me in the chest with her finger. “No, I’m not a patched member. But I have a vagina. If you want back inside of it, any fucking time soon, you’ll tell me what the hell is going on.” Hoss chuckles behind her, but stops quickly when I glare at him. “Do you know what I can’t get out my head?” she asks, shaking her head. “It’s knowing that I’ve been kept in the dark this whole time. That I’ve been lied to my entire life by the people I’ve trusted. People who I love that didn’t think I was strong enough to handle the goddamn truth. Don’t keep shit from me anymore, Jensen. I refuse to live another second blinded by some kind of distorted reality.”
