STRIKE: Storm Runners Motorcycle Club 2 (SRMC) (17 page)

BOOK: STRIKE: Storm Runners Motorcycle Club 2 (SRMC)
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CHAPTER 20

 


T
his is taking so fucking long.”

“She killed a man. They're going to have to question her, but she’s not being waterboarded.”

“The cops are pig shit dirty. How do I know what they're doing to her in there?”

“You don't,” Jack said, “but you need to get your shit together and remember that if you're in the station over this, then Butch will know that you know her. Which means that us taking her off his radar is that much harder.”

Jack's words were simple truth and Tom knew it, but every fiber of his body felt strained with the effort it took to keep from walking into the precinct and walking out again with Grace over his shoulder. He didn't trust the goddamn cops and he never would. Their incompetence and corruption turned the murder investigation for his father and Storm Runners brothers into a sideshow that he'd never forgive. Anger was a bubbling cauldron and the weight of his leather jacket felt oppressive even with the cool fall air around him while he rested, straddling his bike and waiting for Grace to come out of the station so he could take her home.

To his home.

She’d just have to accept that as the way it was for now.

“What do you want to do?”

“About what?” He looked at Jack, who was scanning the street in front of the station. Neither of them could be sure Butch wouldn’t send someone to shoot a quick bullet from a passing car when Grace exited to finish the job.

“The girl. How long can she really stay at the clubhouse or Thunder?”

“Until we find Butch.”

“She’s a cop, Thomas. I don’t know if this is the right choice for the club.” For Jack, the safety of the club always came first, even before the welfare of others. Tom understood and usually agreed, but right now it was pushing his already frayed temper to its edges.

“You brought Anna to the property when she was in danger and it helped protect her.”

“It would have if she hadn’t run off with the slightest provocation,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “I get why she did it, but damn it made it hard to protect her.” He sighed, then smiled. He smiled a lot more these days and it disconcerted Tom. “But the point is, she wasn’t a cop. She was just a woman who posed no threat to us.”

“Grace isn’t a threat.”

“I’m not convinced of that, and neither is Ace.”

“You’re saying I can’t bring her over?”

Jack gave him a long, searching look. “Man, I’m not telling you what to do. If you bring her out though, keep an eye on her. Rest assured I’ll have one on her too.”

“Fair enough.” Though part of him railed against the warnings, Tom understood. He’d never gotten special treatment for being the founder’s son and didn’t expect anything that wouldn’t be offered to another member. But the club had always been a family—and maybe now Grace felt like a member of his family. Like someone he needed to protect.

He frowned.

His mother died and was barely cold in the ground before Victoria ran off. Four years after that, his father was dead. Being someone he…cared about…didn’t bode well for Grace.

“If she’s at the clubhouse, I can keep a closer eye on the information she gets about the trafficking operation,” Tom said at length. “We want to shut it down, right?”

“I wouldn’t mind.” Jack flexed his fingers over the handlebars. “Been a lot of late nights tracking down leads that pan out to nothing. If we find Butch, maybe we can figure out where the women are being sent to. Send out the information to someone who isn’t corrupt as fuck after we’ve taken down the people responsible for Max and the others.”

“How deep does the corruption in the department go?”

“Deep enough that I’m not willing to leave you here alone to wait for your woman.” The light was fading and she still wasn’t out of the police station. “All the people we knew on the force are clean, but more than one has been killed this year.”

“What?” Tom’s mouth opened, then closed. “Who died?” Something else he missed while he withdrew from his life. The old regret started to cast a shade over him, so he straightened his spine and pushed it back. Other things mattered more now.

I can’t change the past
.

“Probst and Winger. Probst was shot in a drive-by and Winger fell down the stairs of his house. I don’t think either was random. The truth is, Butch was in the club for 40 years before he took a hard left, and he has more contacts than we do, so he could have had something to do with their deaths, too.”

“Sometimes it feels like we’re picking up the pieces instead of continuing what Dad started.”

“We are. Max may have wanted these changes, but he didn’t initiate them. He left that to Ace. Even now with the new members, people are fighting against the reforms.”

“Because we’re a motorcycle club. Not a fucking investment company.”

“Did we stop riding?” Jack looked pointedly at his motorcycle, then Tom’s. “Did we stop anything but selling illegal shit that was going to have us—you and me, definitely—in jail eventually? Do you think that’s what Max wanted or did he want to leave you something better?”

“Leave us something better,” Tom said quietly. “You were his son as much as I was.”

“Maybe.” Jack said. “I owe everything I have to Max. That’s why I’m going to say this. You keep pushing back on Ace and he takes the shit because we can all see that you’re fucked in the head over what Butch did. But we need you back one day. People who won’t talk to Ace or me—they’ll talk to you. If the club goes down and stops being anything more than a place for people to party on weekends, it’s not going to be because Ace or Crash didn’t try hard enough. It’s on you and me.”

“You’re doing everything you can.”

“I know. But revenge has to come second.” Jack sighed. “Your life has to come first.”

“You wouldn’t have said that two years ago.”

“Two years ago I didn’t have a woman I loved enough to die for. Maybe you should consider what you’re doing standing outside this police station where someone could come by at any minute with a gun. Maybe it’s time to think about what it would do to that girl in there,” he pointed at the doors keeping Tom from Grace, “if she found out that you’ve been pumping her for information without sharing your own.”

“I’m doing it for the club.”

“Storm Runners isn’t everything,” Jack said. “It isn’t even all it used to be. But we can make it stronger. Better than it was. Max left us a roadmap, but none of us can follow it to the end unless we take down these fuckers first.”

“And I can’t do that without deceiving Grace.”

Jack shrugged. “Maybe you can.”

“Ace said…”

“Ace isn’t always right and if you talked to him when you were sober and kept the resentful fucking comments out of your mouth, maybe he’d see it in a different light.”

Tom nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

“Thanks. How long do you think she’ll be in there?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Tom said. “We’ll be here until she’s done.”

“Then tell me about the upgrades you’re putting on the junker you have in your garage.”

Tom started talking about aftermarket exhaust systems, but his eyes never left the door to the station.

_____

 

“Is there anything else?” Bennett looked at Acker, who shook his head. “Okay. Grace, I think we’re done here.”

“I’m free to go?”

“You’re already on leave, so that won’t change. The shooting will have to be investigated before you come back to the force. When were you planning on returning?”

“I hadn’t decided yet.” Being in the station all afternoon had reminded her of the aspects of police work she didn’t enjoy. Finding and punishing wrongdoers didn’t appeal to her anymore. Maybe it never had. While she was waiting to be interview, the wails and arguments filling the air around her put her teeth on edge.

“We’ll let you know when you’re clear to do so,” he said. “The chief wants to have a word with you before you leave.”

“Of course. Thank you.” The detectives nodded at her. She didn’t envy their jobs. Internal Affairs was one of the toughest departments to work in. They were police, but still regarded with suspicion by other officers.

Grace walked slowly down the hall, the weight of the day heavy on her shoulders. The hours she’d spent with Internal Affairs had stolen the adrenaline pumping through her system, leaving her shaky and on edge. Wondering where Tom was and whether she’d see him once she made it home, she checked her watch. After five. No doubt he was already gone and waiting on her to call—but her phone was with her jacket, and she’d have to stop to get it before she left the station.

“Come on in, Grace,” Chief said when she lingered outside the door to his office. “Shut the door behind you.” She followed his instructions then stood at attention across from him. “Relax, officer. Sit down.”

Sinking into a chair, she pushed back her hair and met his eyes.

“What happened?”

“I was on the way to meet a friend, where we have a weekly appointment. After I’d checked in and asked for water, a man entered with a gun. While he looked around the room, I drew my own weapon and fired before he could.”

“You’re sure he was intending to fire?”

“Yes, sir. It was clear he knew who I was before lifting his weapon, but his stance and open carry were other signs that he was willing to pull the trigger.”

He shook his head and closed his eyes. “IA will find the shooting justifiable. It won’t affect your position here.”

“I know, sir.”

“I don’t want it to affect your undercover work either.”

“Sir. I’m officially on leave now. It’s no longer voluntary.”

“You don’t need a badge to keep your eyes open, officer. Please return to your work at the club by the end of the week.”

“Yes, sir.” Leaving the job for fake reasons and continuing to work under the supervision of Chief Anderson was one thing. Working at a time when it wasn’t sanctioned by Internal Affairs could mean the end of her career. If anyone found out, it might not matter that she’d been following Chief’s instructions. She wasn’t sure his career would survive it either, if someone found out he had an officer who wasn’t working for him still on task.

But actual police work wasn’t something that happened at Ladies Night and Grace didn’t know if she could live with herself if someone was taken while she was on leave. Not if she could have stopped it. Mandi would go back to work eventually. Jez. Even Kiki, who she couldn’t stand, obviously didn’t deserve to be taken away against her will.

Maybe at the club, she could make a difference in a way she hadn’t been able to while she was working officially. At least undercover, she wasn’t just another beat cop handing out parking tickets and processing shoplifters.

“Is there anything else, sir?” They’d both lapsed into silence only filled by the distant sounds of the bullpen and the tick of the large clock on the wall above his credentials.

“No, officer. Go home and get some sleep. I expect you back at Ladies Night by Friday. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.” She’d go back, though it was the last thing she wanted. More nights of glitter and flat ginger ale and the way her scalp itched under the long wigs.

“Thank you, Grace.” She raised her eyebrows at the familiarity, but also smiled before walking out and heading toward the front doors.

_____

 

“There she is.” Jack spoke, but Tom was already sliding off the bike and making directly for Grace. The area around the station was crowded with buildings and while they hadn’t been any unusual activity, he wasn’t going to take chances. If a bullet was fired, he wanted a chance to protect her with his body.

“Come here, baby,” he said, wrapping his arm around her and kissing her forehead before guiding her across the street and down the block to where Jack sat, waiting. “I’m going to take you home.”

“I don’t know if I can sleep.”

“That’s fine. People should be awake.”

“People?”

“You’re going home with me.” He handed her a helmet and held her bag while she put it on.

“I don’t think so…”

“What do you mean?”

“Being over the bar right now sounds a little rough. All those people and the big windows so close to the road…” She sighed and wrapped her arm tighter around him. “It’s so public. My place is smaller, and probably harder to get into.”

“Not there, Grace. The club. I have a room at the Storm Runners clubhouse and you’re going to stay there until we know you’re safe.”

“I killed that man.”

“I know, baby.” He climbed onto the bike and waited while she settled herself behind him. Despite her argument, she wrapped her arms around him without hesitation. “He needed to die. But someone else could come, too, and you can’t be alone if that happens. The club is private property that is patrolled at all times. It’s the safest place for you. Just come home with me. Please. I’ll take you by your place to change and fill a backpack with clothes.”

“Okay,” she said, and snuggled her body closer to his. “Take me home.”

BOOK: STRIKE: Storm Runners Motorcycle Club 2 (SRMC)
2.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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