Bash, Volume III

by Candace Blevins

  I’m sure they intended to leave me alone like this long enough to make me even more nervous, but I went through the meditations I’d learned as a child so I’d be able to control my wolf when she showed up, and I fell asleep.

  I awoke startled when the door opened, but only thrashed my arms once before I brought my body under control. It wouldn’t do at all for me to bend or break their steel restraints.

  I wasn’t sure I could break them, but I could likely do more damage than a human should be able to inflict. Especially a small human female.

  I’d never seen the man who came in. He walked in as if he owned the place and I wasn’t even there, and he put a thick file folder on the table in front of me. I knew from my dad’s talks that this was all normal, and the folder likely didn’t have anything in it about me or the case.

  “I can’t see that you’ve ever been arrested before, Miss Wright. Not many people fall sleep in an interrogation room when they’re up on murder charges, though. What’s going to show up in your drug test when it comes back, I wonder?”

  I shook my head. “Maybe some wine from earlier tonight, but I think it’s out of my system by now. It’s what? Probably somewhere around five or six in the morning by now? Perfectly normal to want to sleep when jerked out of bed in the middle of the night, Detective — especially since I haven’t killed anyone so there should be no cause for worry. I saw my attorney when I first got here, but haven’t seen him since. Shouldn’t he be here while I’m questioned?”

  “He isn’t your attorney, he’s Rolling Thunder’s attorney, and I needed to ask you in private if you feel comfortable having him represent you.”

  Tricky. I needed to show autonomy from the RTMC for work purposes, and this guy obviously knew it. I considered my words carefully before saying, “He’s an attorney, and he knows more about whatever’s about to happen in here than I do. I can always tell him to get lost if I think he isn’t on my side. Bring him in, please.”

  “You really don’t want to do that, Miss Wright.”

  “Why not?”

  “If it’s just you and me, I can make this go a little easier. Once we bring him in, the rules change.”

  “How do they change, exactly?”

  “There are deals I can offer you if he isn’t involved.”

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry, but that doesn’t make sense. I’m afraid I’m going to have to stop talking until you bring him in.”

  He asked another dozen questions, and I merely looked at him, and he finally made a motion with his hands that I assumed was a signal to whoever was watching.

  The detective stared at me while we waited, and I eventually put my head back on my arm.

  It was a good five minutes before the attorney came in, and he was spitting mad. I could smell his rage, as well as the fact he was a leopard or panther.

  I could also easily smell the lies the detective told, and I knew they didn’t have the bodies he told me they’d found.

  They questioned me for hours, asking the same things over and over. When he gave up making me implicate myself, he started trying to get me to implicate various members of the MC, though I noted he only brought up the people I didn’t have an emotional connection with. My attorney spoke up for me a lot, and I breathed through my anger and stayed calm, no matter what the asshole threw at me. He’d leave the room every once in a while, and come back with a different line of questions.

  I was close to losing my temper when the door flew open and Agent Graham walked in and told the Detective, “I’ve just taken the assistant DA into custody, and I’m considering taking you as well. The judge who signed her arrest warrant will officially be under federal investigation in a matter of hours, and I expect all charges against Ms. Wright to be dropped at that time. Are you going to fight me on taking her with me and returning her to Rolling Thunder’s compound?”

  I sat still and kept my mouth closed while Agent Graham and the detective figured out who had the biggest penis. The attorney’s scent told me he was enjoying this, so I sat back and tried to enjoy it as well — without looking as if I was.

  Within an hour, I was back in my own clothes and once again riding in the front seat of Agent Graham’s car.

  I’d kept mostly quiet and only spoken when asked a direct question while still in the building, but now I asked, “You mind telling me what just happened?”

  “We’re all at a dead end and frustrated, but that’s no excuse for their actions. Pickering has been pushing his Assistant DA to implicate you. A combination of the detectives getting frustrated and the acting DA offering to let them bring you in and fish? You got brought in. Brain called me, let me know, and it took me a few hours to work through my superiors and rush a few things through. I had most of the paperwork in place to put the Assistant DA under investigation, and once I got ahold of the paperwork he submitted to the judge, I realized I had enough to arrest him outright for falsifying documents. I can’t believe these guys are this ballsy when they know the Feds are watching. They truly do think they’re above the law and the rules don’t apply to them.”

  “How bad is this going to screw me up at work?”

  It was after ten, and I hadn’t been able to let my supervisor know I wasn’t coming in, or why.

  “Call in, let them know you had some legal issues but you’ve been assured by me that the charges will be dropped. I’ll do what I can from my end.”

  He pulled into an empty parking lot and put the car in park. “Need to ask you a personal question. The women who handled the cavity search said you looked like someone had taken a belt to you. They didn’t buy your story of falling on the steps.”

  I looked forward, out of the window, and told him, “It’s like I’m being violated all over again. That cavity search was the most humiliating thing I’ve ever been through. Ever. Yeah, I’m into kinky stuff. No one should know about that but me, and now it’s a matter of fucking public record.”

  “Here’s my problem. If it wasn’t consensual, no way would you rat on a patched member of Rolling Thunder. So either way, you’re going to tell me it was consensual.”

  I looked at him. “Here’s a truth you can believe. If it wasn’t consensual, my dad would destroy anyone who dared lift a hand to me. In fact, he might do it even if he knew I wanted it, so I’m really hoping he doesn’t find out.”

  He looked at me a few seconds and said, “Okay, then. A fall on the steps. Works for me.”

  “Why are you helping me so much?”

  He put the car back in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. “I’m supposed to be one of the good guys, and it pisses me off when the good guys are dirty. You’re afraid of the cops, afraid of your government, and that should never happen in the United States of America. You were abducted, and would’ve been raped and likely tortured had you not escaped, and while I’ll admit to investigating extra hard to make sure your story matches the evidence, so far it has, and it pisses me off they’re further victimizing you. If I find out you’ve lied then I’ll be the first to take you in and see justice served.” He shook his head. “I thought something didn’t feel right while you were giving me your statement, but so far your story’s checked out. Other than my spidey sense, I have no reason to believe you’re lying.”

  “Your spidey sense?”

  “Yep. Don’t knock it — it’s served me well and even saved my life a few times. It isn’t admissible in a court of law, though, and it’s been known to go wonky a time or two. I know you’re dating a pimp with a helluva temper, nicknamed because of his proclivity for bashing heads, so it’s possible I was biased.”

  “You don’t paint me in the best light, and yet you came to my rescue.”

  “You graduated in the top two percent of your class at MIT, and the folks at TVA are already glowing when they talk about your work. You built one car out of three junkers when you were fifteen, and you worked at a garage as a mechanic while you were attending MIT. It’s like you’ve taken the best of the biker cul
ture to help form who you are. I didn’t understand your connection to your boyfriend, but I’ve read some files that tell me whatever happened the day your mom died was intense — one of those things that bonds people together for a lifetime.”

  He pulled into the compound as I told him, “We bonded over my MG, which I’m sure you know he helped me build. He and Brain took care of me after my mom died, until they could get my dad home. My best friend’s dad was a cop, and he talked to the social worker they wanted to bring in and said he’d keep an eye on me, but that he was certain my father would approve of the two of them watching over me until he could be found. It’s a long story, but… yeah, Bash and I go way back.”

  The clubhouse door opened, and Bash, Dawg, Brain, and Duke stepped out as Graham parked.

  I opened my door and stood as they neared, determined not to cry in the damned parking lot where I knew we were being filmed.

  “You okay?” Brain asked as Bash came to me and wrapped his arms around me.

  I was mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted, and I let Bash hold me as I told them, “Not even close. I need to call work, let them know I’m not coming in today, and hope I still have a job tomorrow — and then I need sleep.”

  Brain shook Agent Graham’s hand and thanked him for bringing me back.

  “She shouldn’t leave town, and if she isn’t here or her apartment, she needs to have her phone on in case I need to reach her. She’s still technically under arrest, but I worked the paperwork so she could be released on her own recognizance. The charges should be officially dropped sometime today or tomorrow, and she won’t be able to go back to work until they are.”

  I stepped out of Bash’s embrace and offered Agent Graham my hand. “Thank you.”

  He shook my hand and walked to his car door. “Get some sleep. I don’t want to call and wake you, so if there’re any changes I’ll let Brain know what’s going on.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Bash

  I couldn’t believe how much my Princess wanted Pickering’s blood. Not that I was complaining. I mean, first, I was glad it wasn’t my blood she wanted, and second — I wanted Pickering’s blood on my hands so bad, I could almost taste it.

  Yeah, so that might gross humans out, but I’m a wolf.

  The human part of my psyche knew I couldn’t beat the shit out of him anytime soon, and I managed to convince the wolf there were other ways to hurt him.

  It pissed me off that Brain — the man she had a telepathic connection to — was the one doing most of revenge legwork, though.

  Okay, so maybe pissed is too strong a word, but I wasn’t happy. I was smart enough not to bitch about it, though.

  Brain didn’t send the Fetlife information to Pickering’s other enemies in the hopes they’d spread it. He used Pickering’s YouTube, Facebook, and Twitter accounts to post stuff. He also sent the information to every contact in all of Pickering’s various email accounts — including his official government address. Brain locked Pickering out of all of his own accounts, so by the time he gained control of them again, all of the information had gone viral and been posted in so many places it didn’t matter that Pickering removed them from his accounts.

  Pickering, Graham, and likely most everyone else would know who was responsible, but Brain made sure he covered his tracks so no one could prove we did it, which — of course — would piss Pickering off even more.

  Within twenty-four hours even the local media was covering it because at that point, being silent would look like they weren’t reporting the local news.

  Brain used the official picture of Pickering in the city’s website to show the odd-shaped freckles on his neck in a specific pattern, and then showed the same freckles, or perhaps they were moles, in two of the Fetlife pictures, to prove it was the same man. He also showed a few other select pictures, and some choice things Pickering had written. For those wanting to dig deeper and see Pickering’s full depravity, Brain made a mirror of every bit of Pickering’s Fetlife information and put it on a Russian server, so the American courts couldn’t force it down. It didn’t matter that Pickering deleted his Fetlife profile, everything was still accessible through the mirror, and Brain said it would be up for years, at least.

  Local media didn’t show any pictures, merely mentioned the fact the local District Attorney seemed to have had a profile on a site devoted to kinky activities, and they couldn’t confirm it belonged to him, but even if it did, he hadn’t broken any laws by having it. Still, it was enough information to get people to search for the good stuff, and the mirror site had over a million visitors in just a couple of days.

  It took months for his case to make it to court, and Angelica didn’t deal well with the fallout. The handcuffs, the cavity search, and the humiliation she’d felt during her arrest had been too much for my strong girl. She wanted revenge, wanted blood, and I frequently found myself advising caution with how we dealt with Pickering.

  She was out of work for ten days before they let her come back. There had to be a complete investigation into the charges and why they’d been brought, and they were a cunt-hair away from firing her when the judge who’d signed her arrest warrant was officially reprimanded. He’d signed it based on false documents, but some of the falsified documents were obviously changed and he should’ve asked questions. His reprimand seemed to be what turned the tide with her superiors at work, and it meant we owed Graham big time, because he’s the one who pushed so hard for it.

  The assistant DA was brought up on charges, as were the officers who executed the warrant, the detective who questioned her, and three other officers. They’d used their police emails to discuss the fact they’d falsified documents to arrest her, so they could try to scare her into a confession.

  Duke and Dozer worked with Angelica a couple of times a week on her fighting skills, and she asked Ghost to show her more about how to walk in the shadows. I didn’t spar with her, but I joined her and Ghost, and picked up a few tricks I hadn’t known.

  I was really worried about her for her first full moon run with the other female wolves. One of the women owned a shitload of acreage in Sequatchie County, and they planned to run there. I ran with my brothers, but my wolf wanted her with me. Who the hell had made the rule about women only running with us the last night?

  She seemed better the next day, though — more herself than she’d been since before her arrest. We spent a few weekend nights in the woods in our wolf form afterwards, but I couldn’t tell a marked difference in her tension levels when it was only the two of us, so I eventually stopped making arrangements.

  Six weeks after she was arrested, we’d spent time at her apartment during the day, but still hadn’t spent the night there. Even though she’d been arrested at the compound, she still felt safer here than her apartment, and I kept remembering her blood curdling scream the night we’d tried to sleep there. I knew something had to give, but didn’t have a clue how to help her. I talked to Dawg and Brain, but they said she needed more time.

  We were spending a leisurely Sunday in the clubhouse, two different ball games playing on two big screen televisions, alternating which one was muted, when a corner opened up and showed us Pickering driving onto the lot.

  Angelica was on her laptop, half paying attention to one of the games, but she looked up when the energy of the room changed.

  Duke stood and said, “Gonzo, get Harmony to my room in case this goes bad. Brain, Bash, and Punkin outside with me. Everyone else stay put, and if we bring him in, keep your damned mouths shut.”

  Dawg stood and said, “I’m comin’, too.”

  Duke sighed and said, “Yeah, okay, but you’re coming to help, not to make the situation more difficult.”

  “Got it.”

  Brain kissed Harmony, handed her off to Gonzo, and looked at the camera to order the person in the control room to record everything.

  We all walked outside together, Angelica between Dawg and I, Brain and Duke flanking the group.r />
  Pickering had brought a bodyguard, and my first guess made him an ex-Navy Seal. He stood beside his charge, his hands ready to go for a weapon as we approached them.

  “Why are you here?” Angelica asked Pickering, ignoring the bodyguard.

  “You haven’t won,” he said, standing up straight in his tailored suit, like he thought he was better than us. “I’ll be suing you under the non-disclosure agreement you signed. Going public with my Fetlife profile broke the terms of our agreement.”

  “I don’t know who went public with it. You’d made a lot of enemies by the time it came out. A judge, the Assistant DA, and a number of cops, to name just a few.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I have enough evidence to sue you under the terms of the agreement.”

  “Works for me,” Brain told him. “I’m looking forward to making sure the details of your dungeon are discussed on the record, in a court of law. You’re a decent attorney but you have to know we’ll hire someone who’s even better.”

  I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. I knew nothing about Pickering’s dungeon, but Brain obviously did. I forced my mind off that and back to the present though, as Angelica said, “No, guys, let’s not do the threat thing. We already know my dick’s bigger than his, so I don’t have to prove it. Besides, he knows he’s going to jail eventually. He might be able to put it off a year or two, but at some point a judge will stop letting him delay the inevitable.”

  She looked at him a few seconds, sighed, and added, “I’m really sorry it came to this. I’m sorry we went out for the first time, and I’m sorry you got so angry with me that you self-destructed while trying to get even with me. I once told you I’d rather be your friend than your enemy, but if you insisted on the latter, I could work with it.” She shrugged. “I worked with it, but you’re the one who decided we had to be enemies.”