“We’re not entirely sure, darling. Just that he’s being held and they’re citing Patriot Act so he can’t ring me,” I said.
“Well, that’s a load of shit,” my daughter hissed.
“I know, love.”
“I’m coming over.”
“Okay, darling. I’ll see you soon.” I hung up again and stared at the wall.
“What does everyone want for breakfast?” Cassidy asked.
“Nothing, love,” I said. “I don’t think I can eat.”
“Which would piss Hatch off,” Payton said.
She was right. It would. I sighed. “Eggs.”
“And bacon,” Cassidy added.
“Sure. I have loads of it, considering I’m married to a bacon hoarder.”
I rose to my feet, but Payton tugged me back down. “It’s Maisie Day, honey. We’re cooking and taking care of the kiddos until all this shit is sorted.”
I sat down again and focused on my friend. “What if he’s stuck, Payton. What if he never comes home?”
“Don’t think that way, sweetie. We’re going to figure it out.”
I wish I believed them, but until we knew exactly what was going on, I was going to have to be strong for Hatch. It wouldn’t do him any good for me to melt down.
* * *
Later that evening, I’d still had no word from anyone when my sister-in-law showed up and let herself in. “Maisie! Honey, you here?”
“Where else would I be?” I ground out. “Kitchen,” I called.
Hatch’s sister, Cricket, rushed in and wrapped her arms around me. “Are you okay?”
“What do you think?”
She met my eyes and sighed. “Well, Minus thinks he’s figured some things out.”
Minus was Cricket’s man and the President of the Burning Saints MC. Cricket had just been hired as public relations liaison and head of the Burning Saints’ charitable foundations, so the two of them were the new kind of power couple. I was happy for her, even if Hatch wasn’t a huge fan of Minus.
“Why would Minus figure anything out?” I asked.
She appeared confused as she frowned. “You don’t know?”
“Start talking,” I demanded.
“Oh, god, honey, I don’t know if―”
“I swear to all that is holy, if you don’t start telling me what you know, I will never speak to you again.”
She sucked in a breath, then nodded. “Minus has located the person who kind of set Hatch up.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No.”
“Who is it?”
She bit her lip.
“Who, Christina?”
“Kitty.”
“Kitty, Kitty?”
She nodded.
Kitty had been patched out of the Dogs of Fire just before I’d met Hatch, but I’d certainly heard stories of the six-foot-seven tosser with brains and biceps bigger than anyone else’s on the planet. Framing Hatch would be a perfect way to get even, especially, if he could get the Burning Saints in on his little plan.
“And Minus is going along with all of this?” I asked, pulling open the wine cabinet.
“I wouldn’t say he’s going―”
“I’m out of wine up here,” I snapped. “Bloody hell, now I have to go downstairs and haul some up.” I stomped toward our basement just as I heard the roar of pipes. I let out a frustrated growl. “You deal with that!” I snapped, and continued downstairs.
I didn’t care who it was or what they wanted. I wanted to drown my sorrows in my favorite wine.
“Mummy!” Poppy called as she walked into the basement with takeout bags in her hands.
Her husband, Devon, walked in behind her with a six-pack of beer.
“Are you hungry?” Poppy asked.
“Not really.”
“I dropped Flash and Jamie off at Hawk’s so you don’t have to worry about them.”
“Thanks, lovey.” I grabbed a bottle of wine out of the wine closet and set it on the tiny kitchen island.
Our basement served as both a game room and safe room with fully locking doors and secret exits, but tonight, it was my drunk room, and I planned to use it to its full advantage.
Before I’d had a chance to open my wine, Minus and six of his men walked in the room with Cricket.
“No!” I snapped, shaking a finger toward them.
“I’ve got some news,” Minus said.
“Unless the news is my man is coming home tonight, I don’t want to hear anything out of your lying mouth.”
“Maisie,” Cricket whispered.
“Huh-uh,” I snapped. “I’m sorry, Cricket. I know he’s your man, and I appreciate you needing to support and defend him, but I swear to Christ, if you want to censor me right now, you’ll find yourself out on your arse.”
She nodded and stepped closer to Minus.
I crossed my arms and glared at Minus. “Now, Mr. President, is my man coming home?”
“We’re working on it.”
“And what exactly does that mean?”
“We were able to reach out to Kitty―”
“Reach out to him?” I snapped. “You know him?”
“We’re working with him to get information on who framed Hatch.”
“You mean you know who it is?”
He stalled and I studied him.
“Oh my god!” I squeaked. “It’s Kitty, isn’t it? Kitty framed Hatch?”
“I don’t think―”
“You sodding piece of shit,” I yelled. “This… all of this… is because of you!”
I couldn’t believe Minus was in cahoots with the man who’d framed my man. That went way below the belt.
“Mais―”
“Shut your bloody mouth,” I snapped. “I don’t want to hear any more of your bullshit.”
Cricket stepped toward me. I appreciated her support, particularly since she’d moved to my side and away from Minus’s.
“I’m thinkin’ there are too many people in this room for a simple discussion,” Flea said, and all eyes turned to him. I hadn’t even heard him come in.
Minus nodded to his Sergeant at Arms, Clutch, who ushered the rest of the men out of the house.
“What the fuck is goin’ on?” Hawk growled as he stalked into the room.
Ace and Maverick walked in behind him. Hawk and Ace both had homes across the street, and Maverick lived with Hawk’s daughter in their basement apartment.
“Do you have news?” I asked Hawk
He shook his head. “Nothing you don’t already know.”
“Goddammit!” I snapped, then focused my evil stare back on Minus. “You need to fix this. Immediately.”
“Maisie, I’m workin’ on it,” Minus said.
“We all are,” Flea added.
I bit back tears. “Does anyone know anything about how he is? Are they feeding him?”
“No one can get in,” Flea said. “But Ryan’s workin’ on that.”
“He is?”
Ryan was Poppy’s best friend, Grace’s, father.
“Yeah.”
“Does Grace know?” I asked.
Grace had a volatile relationship with her father and if she knew he was involved, I wasn’t sure how she’d feel. Her grandmother had just had surgery and she was staying with her while she convalesced, so she had a lot on her plate.
“Yeah,” Flea confirmed.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s workin’ on it.”
“All of this on top of her grandma,” I mused sadly. “You take care of my girl, Flea.”
“I will, babe.” He turned to Minus. “There a reason you’re here? Outside of gettin’ grilled by Maisie?”
“I brought a couple guys to watch the house. In case we had issues.”
“In what fuckin’ universe did you think we couldn’t, and wouldn’t, take care of our own?” Hawk asked.
Minus raised his hands in surrender. “Never crossed my mind. Just wanna help.”
Hawk pulled his p
hone out of his pocket and put it to his ear. “Yo, Mack.”
The room stilled, and all heads turned toward Hawk.
“Yeah, man, that’s great.” He focused on Maisie. “I imagine she’ll be all over that. Okay, brother, I’ll fill her in. Yeah. Bye,” he said, and hung up. “Mack’s got a way to get you in.”
“What?” I squeaked. “When?”
“Tomorrow. Ryan’s organized it… but you’re goin’ in as a munitions expert. To interrogate Hatch.”
“Is he high?” I threw my arms in the air. “I don’t know anything about munitions.”
“You better get studying, Mummy,” Poppy said.
“Clutch can help,” Minus offered. “He actually is somewhat of an expert.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” I admitted.
“Can we come in now?” Payton asked, walking into the room and sliding into Hawk’s arms.
“Were you even gonna wait for me to say ‘all clear’?” he challenged.
“No way in hell.”
Cassidy and Lily weren’t far behind, and Ace and Maverick folded their women in hugs.
“What did we miss?” Cassidy asked.
“Mack’s getting me in to see Hatch,” I said.
“That’s great,” Cassidy said, but I rolled my eyes. “It’s not great?”
“Get this…” I shook my head. “Ryan, in all his infinite wisdom, is getting me in as a munitions expert to interrogate Hatch.”
Payton snorted. “Is he―”
“High?” I interrupted. “Probably.”
“Maisie, I really think Clutch can help,” Cricket interjected.
“Fine!” I ground out. “Have him come down.”
Clutch was not only the Burning Saints Sergeant at Arms, but he was Minus’s best friend and a complete charmer. Street smart and whip smart as well as handsome as the Devil himself. I could only imagine the notches that must adorn his bedpost.
“First thing we’re gonna need is two drinks,” Clutch said with a smile before setting down two glasses and a bottle of bourbon in front of us.
“I’m not going to argue,” I said, my voice trembling from the nerves.
“Look, you’ve got nothing at all to worry about,” Clutch said in a reassuring tone as he poured. “You’ve just got to convince a police station full of cops that you’re a munitions expert with a specially in explosives, right?”
I grabbed the glass of bourbon the moment Clutch pulled the bottle away. “That’s what they tell me,” I said before emptying the glass’s contents.
Clutch smiled. “That’s one way to drink forty-year old Scotch.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just so nervous. I didn’t mean to offend you,” I said sheepishly.
“No offense at all.” Clutch smiled. “I got the bottle from Hatch’s office.”
I laughed but was still petrified I wouldn’t be able to pull this off.
“Look, I don’t know the first thing about bombs and guns other than what I’ve seen at the cinema in action movies,” I rasped.
“Don’t worry about any of that. If you play your part correctly, no one there is gonna suspect a thing. As long as you act like you’re supposed to be there, those asshole cops won’t question a thing,” Clutch said.
“But what if they do question me?”
“If you get backed into a corner, box your way out with a barrage of technical jargon. Tell them shit like you’re doing a thorough and complete analysis of both the chemical and mechanical properties of the explosive device, along with a psychological profile of its manufacturer to assess whether or not the two possess likely linking factors.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Not really,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve been into this bourbon for a while now. Look, more than anything, you have to throw around ‘cop attitude.’ If you can do that, you’ll be fine.”
“How do I do that?”
“Just look at every other cop in the building with a look in your eye that says, ‘I’m a fellow badge and I’ve got your back in the line of fire, but given the opportunity I’d go over to your place while you’re at work and fuck your wife.’”
I burst out in uncontrollable laughter and gave Clutch a squeeze. “Thank you for the drink and for the laugh. I needed them both.”
“I’m puttin’ all my money on you. You’re gonna be the best expert cop that ever walked into that place.”
“Maybe after one more drink.”
CHAPTER TWO
Hatch
Goddammit, what the fuck? I’d been stuck in the cell for a hell of a lot longer than twenty-four hours, and I was goin’ stir-crazy.
“Prisoner, on your feet,” a deep voice ordered, and I stood slowly.
What now?
The window popped open and Ryan Lundy’s face appeared between the bars. “Hey,” he said.
Ryan was the father of Poppy’s best friend, Grace, and the husband of Maisie’s late best friend, Ali. He and I’d had a relatively strained past, in that his wife had tried to kill Maisie, and had ultimately shot herself while speaking to Maisie on the phone. Ryan was forced to straddle the line of honoring his wife and protecting his children, which had caused a rift between him and Grace. His son, Merrick, and I had grown close and he’d been a recruit for our club for a number of years now.
I let out a sigh of relief, and gave him a slight grin, meeting him at the door. “Hey, brother. Do you have any idea what the fuck is goin’ on?”
“Not completely. The Dogs are on it, though, and they’ve got Minus working on something.”
“Why the fuck do they have Minus workin’ on it?”
“Don’t know all the particulars yet. As soon as I know, I’ll fill you in.” He slid a pack of Cheetos in through the bars. “In the meantime, these’ll tide you over until breakfast.”
“Did you happen to smuggle a beer or two in as well?”
He chuckled. “That was beyond my ability. Sorry.”
“What do they have on me?”
“Something to do with bomb-making.”
“Trumped up bullshit.”
“Well, yeah,” Ryan agreed. “Booker’s working on hacking in to find out who did it.”
I dragged my hands down my face. “Is Maisie okay?”
“She’s threatening lives and worried sick about you.”
“Fuck,” I breathed out. “Will you tell her I love her?”
“I can’t, brother. Not yet.”
“Jesus.”
“You need anything?”
“Other than my life back, you mean?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“No, man, I’m good.”
“Okay, I’ll know more tomorrow. Hang in there.”
I gave him a chin lift and he closed the peep door. Heading back to my cot, I dropped the cheesy snack on the end and then sat down and settled my face in my hands. Goddammit. I hadn’t spent a night away from Maisie since we’d made our thing permanent. That was more than ten years ago now, and I had no idea how I was gonna deal without her, even if I was only stuck here one night. Fuck me, tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.
* * *
Maisie
“Remember,” Ryan warned. “You’re an American munitions expert.”
This cockamamie plan was actually happening. I’d been up all night studying and even though I was exhausted, adrenaline was coursing through my veins. “Bloody hell, Ryan, you didn’t tell me I had to put on an American accent as well,” I hissed. “How are we going to get one over on the FBI?”
“You won’t,” Ryan assured me. “But Jaxon’s doing you a favor by setting this up. He’s got the FBI guys distracted for a while, so the only ones you need to convince are a couple of local detectives.”
“Ryan,” I whispered. “They’re cops, not idiots.”
“Maisie, I’ve got it sorted. Just follow my lead.”
“If this doesn’t work, I will kill you,” I said. “But if it does, you have my life-long love and devotion
.”
He chuckled. “I’ve always had your life-long love and devotion.”
“That might change if I don’t get my arms around my man today.”
“You can’t touch him, Maisie, or the jig’ll be up.”
I scowled up at him. “You better find a way for me to touch him, Ryan, or heads are gonna roll.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Ryan, you got your expert?”
I glanced down the hall to see a uniformed officer barreling toward us.
“Yeah, man,” Ryan said, and nodded toward me. “Linda Warren, this is Joe March.”
I stuck my hand out and said in my best American accent, “Nice to meet ya.”
I saw Ryan bite back a laugh and forced myself not to react.
“I’m gonna show Linda the file, then we’re gonna meet with Mr. Wallace,” Ryan said.
“You think you can figure out what he’s planning?” Joe asked.
“If he’s plannin’ anything, yeah,” I said. God, I wanted to smash this man’s face in, but I had to play the game.
“We got some solid evidence,” Joe said.
“All cirrrr-cum-stantial at this point.”
Ryan gave me a side-eye frown. I’m pretty sure I hung on my ‘r’ on circumstantial a bit too long, but, seriously, I was not American, and I didn’t play one on television, either. I had no clue what I was doing.
“Linda’s a real ‘innocent until proven guilty’ type,” Ryan said.
“It’s how your–our legal system works, right?” I challenged.
Joe scoffed. “This guy’s a biker. Calls himself ‘Hatchet’ or some shit like that.”
“Hatch,” Ryan corrected, stepping slightly in front of me.
Seriously, I wanted to cut Joe into several pieces… maybe with a hatchet. This man was taking liberties.
“Well, he’s not talking, so if you can get something out of him, more power to you.”
“I’ll do my darn tootin’ best, partner,” I said.
“You wanna bring him down in ten?” Ryan asked, shooting me another look.
Joe nodded. “Sure.”
“Dial it back a bit, John Wayne,” Ryan warned as he pulled me into an interrogation room and I paced the small space, hands on my hips, in an effort not to hit something.
“Maisie,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Sit down.” He opened the manila folder on the table and pointed to something. “I need you to look at this.”
Twisted Tales of Mayhem Page 4
