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She knew all this, and still, she couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t do this. This wasn’t her. And if that meant that she didn’t have a future as an undercover agent for the FBI, then so be it. It wasn’t worth her soul. She’d go back to a desk job if she had to. At least she’d be able to sleep at night and face her reflection in the mirror in the morning.
And Pony would be safe.
But she still had to pull this off. Get back in the clubhouse, get the heroin, get back out, and not get caught like every run of the mill criminal she’d laughed at over her career for returning to the crime scene like a dumb damn cliché.
She got her feet moving before self-doubt could paralyze her any longer. One foot in front of the other, one step at a time, she forced her feet across the parking lot, through the front door, and into the clubhouse.
Nobody there. Still. Her luck was holding. No brothers, and no Nikki to catch her cleaning up her mistake.
Now her feet moved more quickly, scurrying behind the bar almost at a sprint, eager now to get this done fast and get back out before disaster could strike. Behind the bar, squatting below it to slide open the cabinet door, and fishing a hand back to snag the planted heroin…
It wasn’t there.
Her mouth went dry and her center felt suddenly cold. Nothing but flat, empty wood behind the drain, and now the panic really began to ramp up, her mind running through a million speculations as to where the planted heroin could have disappeared.
Piper’s frantic, scrambling hand flailed about behind the drain pipes, and a millisecond before she blew an aneurysm from her nerves, her fumbling fingers brushed across crumpled paper. It was there. It was there. The package of heroin had merely slid a little to the side, but now she had a hold of it.
She crammed it in her purse and blew out a breath, trying to blow out the anxiety attack along with it.All right. All right, she told herself, straightening up now that the heroin was secured in her purse.All done now. Time to get the hell out of here before…
“Hey,” a voice said.
Pony. Of course it was Pony, standing right there on the other side of the bar.
Piper froze. How long had Pony been standing there? What had he seen? What had he heard?
He looked at her sideways and said, “You all right?”
“What?” Piper said, shoving the words out of her mouth. “Oh, yeah. I, um, I just didn’t expect to see anyone here so early.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to work today. Or was that tomorrow?”
“No, no, today,” Piper said. “Today. I don’t, um, I just…forgot something. Last night. That I need today. For today.”
Her words were fumbling, tumbling over each other, matching the fluttering of her heartbeat.
“Did you get it?” Pony said.
“What?”
“What you forgot. Did you get it?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Piper said, looking down at the paper bag of heroin, feeling like a kid talking to their parent with a hand fully in the cookie jar. “Right here. Must’ve fallen out of my bag.”
“Important?”
“No, well, yeah,” Piper said, shoving the paper bag into her purse. “It’s something that my dad… I mean, it’s for my dad. It’s something for my dad. Dad stuff, you know?”
She had to get out of there. Right now. Her nerves were shot, she could not hold it together to save her life. Literally, perhaps, if Pony got too curious and had a look at what she was hiding in her purse.
Would he? Would he hurt her if he found out what she was up to? Would he turn her over to the MC for whatever rough justice they saw fit to inflict on her?
It was every undercover agent’s worst nightmare, being found out by their target and trapped in their custody. Horror stories were made of that situation.
“Well, gotta go,” she said breathlessly, and moved for the door.
“Hang on.”
“Hmm?”
