“And your dad?” I ask.
The cop looks out to the distance. “My brother’s death, nobody really fucking knows what happened.”
I nod. “And what do you want from me and my crew?”
The officer is thoughtful for a while. “I know you’re after the Desert Riders. I want to know if they killed my brother. I want some closure, and I can’t go through my father or official channels.”
“And how am I supposed to figure out if they were the ones who killed your brother?”
He leans back in one of the outside rockers. “Let’s just say, if you do, all your past and future indiscretions are wiped clean. If not, let’s just say I’m going to have a hard-on for you.”
“Let’s get one thing straight, I have no fucking indiscretions.”
His eyes lock on mine. “I want you to find out if they killed my brother. If you do, you walk. If not,”—he shrugs—“who knows what evidence may surface that leads them straight to you.”
Fucker.
He’s good, I have to give him that.
I shouldn’t take the bait. They have nothing on me or the Harlots, but I don’t want this prick to go digging into something that could blow back on the ladies, especially Onyx who was just protecting herself from an out-of-control recruit, hell-bent on hurting her friend to get her to drive illegal drugs for him.
Yet there’s always the chance what really happened can get flipped upside down and Onyx would be held responsible for something that wasn’t her fault. Protecting yourself is a fucking right in the state of Arizona and I’m not letting her go down for something that happened outside of her control.
The Desert Rider recruit was blackmailing her best friend, put hands on her, and from what Onyx told me was reaching and had drawn a gun before she hit that bike and let that flare go. “What if I don’t know or can’t get shit about your brother?”
All I get is a sullen look before he stands, hands me a piece of paper with two names and a phone number, and without a word of acknowledgement saunters down the porch steps.
“How do I find you in person?” I call out as he reaches his car.
“You don’t. I have eyes on you and the little ladies.”
The fucker wants me to get to the truth about his family but is not giving me much to go on and at the same time is threatening the ladies?
He shouldn’t have done that because now that I know some of the story, my boys will research it, and we’ll get closer to learning a truth that I have no doubt he doesn’t want us to know.
But whatever it is, he’s been keeping the real helpful details close to the vest. It’s clear to me that he wants someone outside of the police to bring whatever dirty laundry there is about his brother forward.
Why is the question.
I don’t know this fucker from Adam, a new beat cop that I’ve not built a damn bit of trust with. Maybe he’s a real cop, maybe he’s not, maybe he’s a fucking plant.
But it looks like I need to find out…
33
ONYX
Iwatch the camera from the bar as the rumble of the officer’s bike thunders away, and Hawg heads inside. His knowing blue eyes meet mine as the enters the door. “You okay?” I ask.
He nods, closes the distance between us, sits on one of the chairs close to the bar, and picks me up by the waist.
“What did the police want?” I ask, straddling his lap, cupping his face in my hands. “You have to tell me if it’s something to do with my ex or Ness. If they’re investigating, if they’re coming after you for anything, I’m going to tell them everything. The truth. You are not going down for something I did.”
His blue eyes flare, his hand sliding around my nape, bringing my face to meet his and kissing me with a passion that takes my breath away. “They don’t fucking want the person who did it, this prick, he’s looking for vengeance of his own. There’s nothing for you to worry about here, you understand?”
“You said you wouldn’t lie to me.”
Hawg rests his forehead against mine. “And I won’t. Not ever.”
