Cole: A Bad Boy Romance

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Cole: A Bad Boy Romance Page 9

by Hart, Michelle


  A light blue Frisbee came spiraling out of nowhere and narrowly missed my head. A bunch of kids came running over and froze in their tracks when they saw my leather cut and menacing Rabid Dog spider on the back.

  I smiled and picked up the Frisbee. “Go long,” I announced, throwing the disc as far as I could.

  “Thank you,” the children screamed in unison, running away. The town was afraid of us and we needed to fix that. The Rabid Dog MC didn't hurt innocents. We kept the streets clean of rapists and pedophiles—we did the dirty work that Sheriff Mendoza couldn't do.

  I walked over to Leland and Constance sitting on a picnic blanket on the grass. The scene was right out of a movie. “You two look like a lovely couple,” I said.

  Leland grinned and stood up to embrace me. “How's it going, Veep?”

  Constance strained to stand and I stopped her, helping her back to the ground. “No no, lady. You stay off your feet.”

  Constance waved my hand away and stood up, holding her swelling belly. “I don't need your help yet, Sawyer. Another few months and you guys might need a crane to carry me to the hospital.”

  “Thought of a name yet?” I asked.

  Constance looked at Leland and smiled. It was clear she loved him dearly. “We were thinking of Isaac.”

  My heart warmed at the name and my eyes began to water. Isaac was the MC Treasurer until he was tragically gunned down last year. I watched him die in Leland's arms. It was a hard time for the MC but things were beginning to look better. “I think that name would be perfect,” I replied, taking Constance's hands. “Congratulations, and Leland, don't fuck this up.”

  Leland narrowed his eyes at me and laughed. “You don't have to worry, Constance will kill me if I mess this up.”

  Constance threw a glance at Leland and ran her finger across her throat.

  I left them laughing and wondered how Leland could ever be happy in a relationship. Like most of the other MC members, our relationships were limited to one-night stands and prostitution. I fucked a different girl every night. Fuck and Forget—that was the MC motto. Leland should've remembered that.

  I stopped under the shade of trees and rested against the trunk. Big Mike was serving food to a long line of hungry people. Slade was hitting on a set of blonde twins with big fake tits next to the playground. His long dark hair made him look like he was from a 80's Metal band but the chicks loved it.

  “Nice day out, eh, Sawyer?” I turned around to find Cole approaching me. The gray in his hair was more and more evident as time passed. His horn-rimmed glasses made him look a lot less menacing than he really was. Cole was like a father to us all and I'd follow him to the depths of hell if he asked me to.

  I looked over at the same kids throwing the Frisbee around. “Remember those carefree days, Prez?”

  Cole leaned against the tree trunk with me and watched the kids scream and run around. “When I was a kid, my father put me to work everyday at the construction site. I don't think I've ever experienced a carefree day. That's actually why I need to talk to you.”

  I shifted towards him and tuned out all the other noise. “What's up, Cole?”

  The wrinkles on his face showed off his age. Cole had seen a lot as President of the Rabid Dog MC. As Vice-President, it was my duty to second-guess him and offer alternative solutions. But that didn't happen often with Cole. He always made the right decision.

  Cole stared off into the distance. “I've been doing this a long time, Sawyer. Way too long. I started the Rabid Dog MC with my friends to escape my father. Now all those friends are either dead or moved on. I'm the only one left of the originals.”

  I didn't like where he was heading. The somber tone of his voice and the sadness in his eyes. He had been thinking about this for a long time.

  “It's time I hang up my hat, Sawyer. I want to know what a carefree day is like. I can't be the Rabid Dog President anymore.”

  All the blood drained from my face. Everything was going to fall apart without him. The end of an era. How could we go on? “But you can't quit, Cole. Rabid Dog is in your blood.”

  “And it always will be.” Cole grit his teeth and took a deep breath to keep from crying. “I'm recommending you become the new President.”

  My jaw dropped to the floor. I never even dreamed of becoming President. I always pictured Cole leading us into battle and us coming home victorious. There was no way I could fill his shoes. “I don't know if I'm ready for that, Cole.”

  Cole put both hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. “You're ready. You've been ready for years. The MC needs someone who is smart and strong. Someone who can carry them through the tough times. That someone is you, Sawyer. After what happened with Isaac...I can't go through that again.”

  I gulped and nodded. I couldn't believe this was happening. My whole life was about to change. Could I really lead the Rabid Dogs?

  Cole brushed off my leather cut. “We can make the transition official later. Enjoy the day and I'll see you back at the clubhouse.”

  I grabbed his hand and shook it firmly. “Thank you so much.” There was so much more I wanted to tell him. How he was my hero and a father to me. But I couldn't get the words out.

  Slade walked up to us. “Sorry to interrupt but we have a small problem.”

  Cole winked at me. “Good luck,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets and strolling away, whistling a tune. That son of a bitch.

  Slade looked confused. “Where's he going?”

  “What's the small problem?” I asked, ignoring his question.

  Slade turned my head and pointed off to the far edge of the park at a gaunt man dressed in rags, smoking on a cigarette. A thin wispy beard went down to his chest and the hair on his head was disheveled. He didn't even have to tell me who it was—Lil' Johnny was unforgettable. He was never supposed to set foot back in Sacks County.

  “Let's go take care of this,” I said.

  Slade smiled and cracked his knuckles.

  “But quietly,” I added.

  Slade nodded and we walked a wide arc around the park until we came up behind Lil' Johnny.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked in a deep voice.

  Lil' Johnny spun around and almost swallowed his cigarette when he saw me. “Oh Sawyer, I've been looking all over for you.”

  Slade came between us and drove his fist into Johnny's stomach. The frail man doubled over and coughed up a lung. We carried him to the men's bathroom and Slade punched him one more time while I checked that all the stalls were clear.

  I grabbed Johnny's hair and pulled his head back. “What are you doing here, Johnny? We told you if you ever set foot in Sacks County again, we'd put your head on a pike.”

  Lil' Johnny continued to cough, trying to catch his breath.

  I pulled my black G20 Glock from behind my waistband and waved it in front of Johnny's face. “I'm not a very patient man, Johnny.” Slade nodded in agreement.

  “I have some information for you,” he choked out, whimpering at the sight of the gun.

  “What could you possibly know?”

  Lil' Johnny's eyes darted left and right. “I heard something about The Death Merchants MC.”

  My curiosity was piqued. The Death Merchants MC were the Mexicans who ran the east side of town. The Blacks owned the middle and acted like a barrier to the Mexicans. We rarely had to deal with them. “Tell us what you know or else I'll let Slade loose.”

  Slade was slobbering at the mouth. There was a good chance he had rabies. He lifted Johnny to his feet and let him go. “Spill it.”

  Johnny held his side and began, “I was minding my own business outside the laundromat when I heard two Mexicans talking about arming up. I followed them and listened in on their conversation. They're arming up to finally take out the Rabid Dog MC so they can rule the west.”

  I kicked Lil' Johnny in the shin and he fell to the ground, groaning and holding his leg. “Why should we believe a bullshit story like that? Especial
ly when it's coming from you.” I put the tip of my pistol against his temple. “Give me one good reason I shouldn't pull the trigger.”

  Johnny pissed himself and tears streamed down his face. This happened way too often. At least we were in a bathroom already. “I'm telling the truth, Sawyer. I swear it.”

  Lil' Johnny was the scum of the earth but he wouldn't be able to come up with a lie like that on his own. I pulled the gun away and holstered it back behind my back. “Slade, try and contact our Black brothers and see if his story checks out.”

  Johnny got on his knees, his pants soaking in urine. “Does this mean I can stay in Sacks County?”

  “For now. But if we find out you're lying. There's worse things we could do than killing you.”

  Lil' Johnny's eyes widened and he bent down and kissed my boots. “Thank you so much, Sawyer.”

  I kicked him away and left the bathroom with Slade. “You really think he's telling the truth?” Slade asked.

  “Probably not but we need to know for sure. If the Mexicans want war, we'll give em' one.”

  Chapter Two

  Charlotte

  The video cameras and a room full of reporters made me nervous as I stood on stage next to Sheriff Mendoza. I'd never done a press conference before and I had a true fear of public speaking. My palms always got sweaty and my hands would shake uncontrollably. The moment I opened my mouth, everyone would laugh me straight out of town.

  Sheriff Mendoza continued his speech as the cameras flashed. “It's with a heavy heart that I retire today as Sheriff of Sacks County. I have put in over twenty years trying to make this town safe. I hope I did enough to make a difference.” The crowd clapped and cheered. “I spent a lot of time looking for the perfect replacement and I finally found her. I want to introduce you to your new Sheriff, Charlotte White.”

  I put on my best fake smile and shook Mendoza's hand. His face twitched for a microsecond as he felt all the sweat on my palm. Keep it together, White. Deep breaths. I took the podium and the crowd silenced. I unfolded a piece of paper that had my speech written on it. “Good afternoon,” I announced to the crowd.

  I looked over my writing and realized that nobody wanted to hear about my ten-point agenda for cleaning up the county. That would come later. For now, I needed to keep it short and sweet. “I think Sheriff Mendoza deserves one more round of applause for all his service.” I waited for the clapping to cease. My heart was beating at a mile a minute, my ankles trembling in my boots. I took a deep breath and continued, “I hope I could be half as good as Sheriff Mendoza was. If you can give me a chance, I know it in my heart that I can make this city safe. Thank you and I hope to meet all of you soon.”

  The applause was sparse and quiet. I exited the stage and almost felt like I was going to collapse. Hopefully I'd never have to do that again.

  “You did great up there, Sheriff White,” Mendoza said.

  Sheriff White. I liked the sound of that. “So what now?” I asked him.

  “Let's get you settled at the station and you can meet everyone. I'd like to get everything squared away as soon as possible. My wife and I have a trip planned to Maui.”

  “That sounds very relaxing.”

  “It better be. I'm going to lay on the beach and drink for two weeks straight.”

  I chuckled and followed Mendoza to a black-and-white police car. We drove down Main Street, passing by rows of family-owned businesses. This town had a lot of charm and was exactly what I needed after working with the LAPD for so long. Some would say that a sheriff of a small town was a demotion but I thought it was much needed after the horrors of Los Angeles.

  A serial killer of children was loose on the streets and we hunted him for months without any luck. Finding pieces of these kids was hard to live with. The last kidnapping was the worst. We knew we only had twenty-four hours before the kid was dead. With the help of the FBI we were finally able to track the killer to a shipping container on the docks. We thought we had made it in time. But the kid was already dead, his throat slit just ten minutes before we got there. If only we got there sooner...

  The killer got away and he was never found.

  Mendoza and I arrived at the station and he introduced me to a lot of the officers. The station was made up entirely of men and they didn't look too keen on a woman becoming their new boss. Tough shit. They'd have to deal with my wrath if they couldn't handle it.

  “And here's your office,” Mendoza announced, opening the door to what looked like a broom closet. My new office was small and narrow with a tiny window on the far wall overlooking the parking lot. The desk looked like it barely fit and there was only room for one chair. “I know it's not much but you wont be spending much time in here anyways.”

  Mendoza was probably right. I set my box of stuff on the desk and began unpacking. Framed pictures of my mom and dad and my lucky pen was all I really brought. And I'm glad I packed light because I wouldn't be able to fit anymore in here.

  “Can I give you some advice?” Mendoza asked, sitting down in the chair opposite of the desk.

  “Of course,” I replied, taking my seat. The chair was comfy and I leaned back, enjoying the thought of being in charge of this town.

  Mendoza scratched his dark bushy mustache. “I don't know how things were run in Los Angeles but here in Sacks, things are a little different.” I nodded and waited for him to continue. “We like to say that we control this town but in reality it's the MC's.”

  “You let the motorcycle clubs do whatever they want?”

  Mendoza shook his head. “Not exactly. It's just that over the years the one thing I learned was not to fight them and instead, work with them. The less blood on our streets the better. There are rumors flying that the Mexicans are prepping for a war. That could be really bad for Sacks County and the surrounding areas.”

  “You don't have to worry. I'll set up meetings with the heads of the MC's and get it all sorted out. In LA, I worked alongside gangs all the time. I know how to play the game.”

  Mendoza stood up and I copied him. “Then I chose the right woman for the job. Good luck with everything Sheriff White.” I shook his hand. “I left my number for you on the desk. If you ever need help, you can call me night or day.”

  I smiled. “I really appreciate it and I won't let you down.” Mendoza closed the door behind him and I sank back into my seat. I looked out the window and watched as the cop cars drove in and out. I pulled my brown hair out of a ponytail and brushed it.

  The door to my office opened and an officer with almost no hair left on top came in. “So the rumors are true, Mendoza hired a woman to become sheriff.”

  The rage boiled in my veins. Just ignore him, Charlotte, he's small-town potatoes. I put my hair back into a ponytail. “I don't believe we've met, I'm Sheriff White.” I outstretched my hand and he ignored it. The name Johnson was engraved on the nameplate on his left breast.

  He eyed me up and down like a piece of meat, staring at my breasts for way too long.“You really think you have what it takes to become sheriff here?”

  I cocked my head to the side. “Why? You think just because I'm a woman I can't be a leader.” This wasn't new to me. I'd seen plenty of his type back at the LAPD. Men didn't think women were good enough to be cops. I had proved them wrong in Los Angeles and I'd prove them wrong here.

  “I know a woman can't be sheriff. All your good for is bending over and taking it from a man. I bet you've never been fucked a day in your life.” Johnson licked his lips. “I can show you a really—”

  “I'm going to stop you right there,” I interrupted. “Give me your badge and gun. You're suspended.”

  Johnson's eyes lit up with defiance. “What the fuck! Who the hell do you think you are? You can't suspend me for hitting on you. You should be glad I gave you a compliment.”

  I stood up and steeled myself. I wasn't going to let anyone push me around—especially a womanizing prick like Johnson. “Put your badge and gun on the desk now before I fir
e your ass.”

  Johnson stared at me with a fiery expression. If he was hoping that his anger would change my mind, he was about to be sorely disappointed.

  “Fucking bitch,” he murmured, unholstering his pistol and setting it down along with his badge.

  I sighed and sat back down. “You can return to duty when you apologize to me.”

  Johnson stormed out of my office, cursing to nobody. I'd do the same to anyone else that crossed me. I had to show the precinct that I didn't play games. If you treated me fairly, I'd return the same. But if you disrespected me, I'd bite back like a king cobra.

  First things first—making contact with the two major MC's. I pulled out a folder from my briefcase that detailed the three motorcycle clubs from Sacks County. The Rabid Dogs and Death Merchants were the ones to be worried about. The African-Americans in the Fires of Hell weren't big enough to worry about. I needed to meet the leaders and somehow get them to form a truce. If what Mendoza said was true, a war could devastate this town.

 

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