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“Agent Little, it appears you have been withholding vital information from the Bureau. Since you have been unable and unwilling to fulfill your role as an undercover agent with the Hell’s Handlers Motorcycle Club, you have been relieved of duty.”
Blood rushed in her ears louder than Niagara Falls, and her breaths came in choppy spurts. Why was he doing this? Did he have any idea what would happen now? They’d kill her. Even if by some miracle, Maverick stood up for her, Copper would never let her live.
“It’s unfortunate things had to end this way. But don’t worry, this entire case will shed light on the sacrifices agents are willing to make in the pursuit of justice. We can’t win them all, can we, Little? You’ll receive the same medal as Agent Rey.”
A posthumous medal.
She was a problem for the Bureau now. An agent who’d defected to the criminal underworld. A scandal and an embarrassment. Someone to be dealt with. Baccarella had known precisely what he was doing with this stunt. By now, he’d probably learned all about Lefty and his trafficking business. There was his arrest, and he no longer needed the Hell’s Handlers. The Handlers would deal with her, saving the FBI embarrassment, time, and lots of cover-up work. They’d spin it like a tragic accident while serving her country. Then he’d swoop in, arrest Lefty and his gang, and Baccarella would be handed the director position all wrapped up with a shiny bow.
That self-serving bastard just signed her death warrant.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
A FED? A fucking fed? A sickness like he’d never felt before rolled through Maverick’s gut. He’d welcomed her into the club, into his family, around his brothers, and their women. Jesus Christ, he was going to vomit.
Was it true? Any of it? How had it happened? Did she get herself kidnapped by Shark on purpose? Or was that just a happy accident that worked in the FBI’s favor to infiltrate the MC?
This raid was bogus. Plain and simple. A ruse to pull Stephanie, if that was even her fucking name, back to the legal side of the world. But it didn’t make sense. Why would he out her in front of the MC? They knew what she looked like. Copper would be out for blood. They could search her out easily.
As his mind spiraled out of control, he’d almost missed what the FBI douchebag said to Stephanie.
Fuck me hard.
The piece of shit was leaving her there.
The moment that realization hit, two other insights came to light. No one was being arrested, not a single one of his brothers. Stephanie had information that could put a good number of them away forever. She was in the room when Maverick shot a man in the head for fuck’s sake. So why weren’t the feebees slapping cuffs on every man in the clubhouse and hauling ’em in?
Only one reason.
Stephanie hadn’t squealed.
The other lightbulb that went off had to do with her feelings for him. No way were they faked. At least not the orgasms. She came, and she came hard. Sure, some women could put on a good performance, but they couldn’t fake the out-of-control spasming of their pussies or the gush of arousal that coated his dick every damn time. That was as real as the ink on his skin.
So, she withheld information from her superiors, and she loved his cock.
What the hell did it mean?
Well, it meant the FBI was walking the fuck away from her.
But surely, this asshat of an agent knew, right? He knew what would happen to her if he walked out and abandoned Stephanie to the MC?
Copper would end her.
One glance at the tears rolling down Stephanie’s face, and Mav’s heart clenched. She knew. She knew her fate.
He should hate her, and at that moment, part of him did, but it didn’t change what was in his heart. Up until two minutes ago, he’d been ready to tell her he fucking loved her. Those feelings had been developing over the months since he first met her. He wasn’t someone prone to frivolous emotion, so these feels for her? They were deep-seated.
And wouldn’t disappear in an instant.
Mav sprang to his feet in one smooth motion, ninja-style. “You can’t fucking leave her, man,” he shouted at the smug agent.
Shoulders slumped and the saddest look of defeat in her overflowing eyes, Stephanie whispered, “Maverick, get back down.”
He couldn’t look her in the eye. His brothers needed him now, and if he stared into her sorrow-filled gaze, he’d lose his shit, grab her, and run for the hills.
“You can’t leave her here,” he said, speaking slowly like the man was dense.
The agent just stared him down with a half-smile. “And why’s that?”
Fists clenched, Mav locked his knees to keep from charging the arrogant piece of shit. “You know damn well what will happen to her if you walk out that door.”
