Page 25 of Bent, Not Broken

I winced but tilted my head in acknowledgement. Leading Paxton out into the bullpen, I introduced him to a few of the cops I respected. They all greeted him with enthusiasm, except Jones, who was known for grunting at people, but he was a good guy nonetheless. Paxton laughed when I explained that to him. We headed to our lockers and suited up, and afterward I took the time to tour him around the cage where we stored some of the high-powered weaponry. We took a rifle with us, but there wasn’t a chance we’d need it today.

Paxton carried most of the gear. “So how rough does it get in New Gothenburg?”

I kicked open the door to the garage we often called the shop and led him to our black-and-white. I popped the trunk while I decided how I wanted to answer. “Depends on the day, and which motorcycle club wants to cause trouble. The Kings and Harlots are two of the major clubs. We think they’re in cahoots with each other, but there’s no proof. The Kings run some nightclubs and their clubhouse is a junkyard across town. Harlots are into hotels, but there’s more to it than what appears on the outside. Bottom line, we have no proof, and no warrants to go in there and arrest people.”

Paxton dumped the gear into the trunk before he closed it, and I waved him toward the passenger seat while I took the driver’s.

“Then there’s the Warriors and the Demons. Warriors are the ones who shot a few of us a couple of months back. They’re probably the most unstable of the clubs. Most of the time, we have no idea who their president is because they swap and change so much. The Demons have a lot of family involved. The president right now is Derrick Reynolds. Now keep up with the connections, newbie. Reynolds is the ex-husband of Sapphira McKinnon, the president of the Harlot Queens. She’s known as the Queen.”

“The Queens are women?”

“Yep. It’s an all-women gang, but don’t let that fool you. They’d sooner put a bullet in a man’s head than let the other clubs get one over them.” I shook my head as I reversed the car out of the garage and took to the streets. “Every club in this city has their fingers in the illegal cookie jar. They’re constantly competing, which can get dangerous. New Gothenburg is too small for four clubs.”

Paxton stared out the window at the tall buildings, his gaze alert, and I liked that about him immediately.

“Been out of the military for long, Paxton?”

He tilted his head toward me and his mouth twisted to one side. “Am I that obvious?”

“The haircut and the way you stand shouts Army.”

“Marine, actually.”

I laughed. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Were you in there for long?”

“I got out a few years ago. Joined when I was eighteen.” He leaned forward in his seat to check out street rats crowded in a group at a corner ahead of us. I knew them well and they were low-level drug dealers who worked this side of town. Hitting the lights and siren, I pulled the car over to the sidewalk. They were usually too high on their own product to run, but there was always one, and little Dewey Holt took off on the cracked sidewalk, jumping over a pile of trash on his way.

Paxton was out of the car before I could blink, and I heard him shout, “Stop, police!”

Throwing myself out my door, I held my hand up to the others left behind. They smiled at me, and I rolled my eyes. Most of them weren’t worth the hassle. “Want to tell me what you were doing, Moses?”

Moses, as he liked to call himself, was considered the leader of their little gang. Skinny and only about nineteen, he wore a gap-toothed grin, jeans that were about ten sizes too big around the waist, and he had eternally drug-glazed brown eyes. Immediately he held up a small baggie and I sighed. I’d caught them with much bigger hauls before, only to have them thrown out of court with community service. This amount of weed would give them another slap on the wrist.

“Seriously?” I rolled my eyes.

“Not doin’ anythin’ wrong here, Officer,” Moses slurred. He’d helped me out a few times in catching the bigger fish, and it was more beneficial for me to keep him out on the streets, and he knew it too. He swiped at his matted hair and flashed his teeth at me.

I clicked my radio. “Paxton, get your ass back here.”

A few minutes later Paxton turned the corner down the street, Holt in handcuffs in front of him. Dewey was painfully thin and all of his bones stuck out from underneath his stained white wife beater. He was still young enough to be saved, maybe, and could have been cute if he didn’t resemble a skeleton so much. Heroin bruises and track marks littered his arms, several swollen and irritated in a way that worried me. Paxton shoved the druggie ahead of him on the sidewalk until he was in front of me and then pushed him to the ground. I rolled my eyes.

“Let him go.”

“What?” Paxton frowned at me.

“Trust me. Let him go and get in the car.” I crouched to Holt’s height. “What have I told you before, Dewey? Don’t fucking run from cops. It’ll get your ass in more trouble. You can’t run to save your life.”

He grinned crookedly at me. “Sorry, Officer Slater. I was just going for a stroll, that’s all. I didn’t even see your car.”

“I bet you didn’t see the lights flashing or hear our siren either.” Paxton crossed his arms and glowered at him. He looked like an avenging angel with an ax to grind, the sun creating a light halo around his head.

“Nope.” Holt shrugged. “Sorry, Officer… what’s your name?”

Paxton’s jaw got a tic, a sign that it was time to break it up. Paxton seemed like the kind of guy who’d knock Holt out with one well-placed punch to the forehead, not that I thought Paxton was dumb enough to do it. I could already tell he had more control than Conrad did when it came to the handbook. Conrad wouldn’t have chased after Holt if he’d run like that around him.

“Okay, Dewey, you know the rules. If you don’t want us to drag your ass back to the station, watch your mouth.” I stood and pointed at Moses. “You know our deal. Keep your worker ants in check.”

He bowed dramatically, the fake gold chains around his neck clinking together with the action, and I rolled my eyes. Paxton uncuffed Dewey, and then I grabbed Paxton by the arm and dragged him back to the car. When we were seated and I had us on the road again, I said, “Moses’s gang is full of nobodies. Every time we catch them, the court deems them not dangerous and gives them community service, so we decided to use it to our advantage. They get drugs from the Warriors sometimes. Clubs use them because they’re dumb and follow orders if they get some product. So they keep their ears to the ground for us.”