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Chapter Seventeen
A sharp knock on my bedroom door had me groaning in annoyance. “Yeah?”
It swung open as I turned my chair away from the computer. I was deep in some detective work for the club, trying to get whatever info I could find on Hadley’s husband. Optimus had come to me about it after speaking to Judge. Judge had his hands tied, there was little information he could gather without pulling too much attention from the feds he worked for.
If he started asking too many questions about Hadley’s husband—another agent who had turned dirty—there was a chance that someone within the Bureau on his pay list would forward it on to him.
It was a clusterfuck of bullshit, especially given that this government agency had one of the toughest network structures, and penetration was difficult. It was like an eggshell, hard on the outside but once inside things were softer and easier to infiltrate. But it could take me hours, days, weeks even to get to through the shell. And I was already struggling to keep my head in the game as it was.
Blizzard appeared in my doorway, “Op wants us downstairs. Deacon called to say he needs to chat with us.”
I frowned. “Is hell about to freeze over?”
The club and Deacon, who was the head of the Police Department in Athens, had a tense relationship at best. His history with the club had been a range of ups and downs, including him trying to get in with Chelsea when hers and Op’s relationship was on the rocks. Him coming here voluntarily spoke for itself about how this meeting was probably about to go.
I pushed away from my desk and forced my body to my feet. Shaking off my aching muscles from over five hours sitting at my computer setup, I followed Blizzard out of my room and down the hallway to the stairs.
“You find anything good?” he asked as we descended into the main room of the club.
I snorted. “I haven’t cracked the shell yet. We’ll be lucky if I find anything before shit hits the fan and we need to go on the defensive.”
The corner of his mouth pulled up as we headed for the front door. “I thought you were good at this shit? Getting slow in your old age?”
I shoved him away and he laughed as we walked over to where Optimus, Eagle, and Ham were already waiting by the front gate. “You need us all here for this?” I asked curiously, leaning against the fence with my arms folded.
Op shrugged. “Not really, but when this asshole comes around, I just like to make a show of it.”
Chuckling lightly, I shook my head. Op really was protective of Chelsea. He didn’t like that she and Deacon still had somewhat of a friendship between them even after all the shit that they’ve been through. While Deacon has helped us out with things in the past, Optimus is still cautious of his motives, and why he gave up a high ranking place in the DEA in New York to stay in Athens and run the insignificant police department here.
When a dark car pulls down the road, we all tense—it’s not Deacon’s police cruiser.
My hands moved closer to my waist, and I noticed Ham step back inside the small gate to reach for his shotgun. Op stepped to the side as the car pulled into the driveway, and the window rolled down. We all relax when we notice Deacon sitting in the driver’s seat. He’s alone, but he isn’t dressed in his police uniform.
“You needed to chat?” Op asked suspiciously, his brow raised.
Deacon took us all in. “Yeah, but the shit I need to talk to you about could get me fired. I’d rather not do it standing at the curb.”
My curiosity piqued and I could tell Op’s had too.
Op waved his hand toward the clubhouse. “Park close to the wall and head around the back.”
Deacon nodded and pulled in, his tires crunching on the gravel. We all followed the car inside the gate as Ham pulled them closed.
“This shit doesn’t sound good,” Blizzard commented as we walked across the parking lot.
Optimus didn’t answer as we continued around the side of the clubhouse and met Deacon who was standing on the porch.
“Am I gonna need a fucking drink for this?” Op asked as he took a seat on one of the patio chairs, Deacon and the rest of us following suit.
“You’ve got some unwanted attention coming your way,” Deacon said, ignoring the comment and getting straight down to business. “There’s a couple detectives coming to town. They’re asking questions about the club. Digging around for information on you and any associates you might have.”
Optimus lifted his lips in a sneer. “What the fuck are they looking to find?”
“They’re quite interested in X-Rated,” Deacon replied, lifting his eyebrow as if to say ‘if there’s something I need to know you better fucking tell me now.’
“X-Rated is clean as a fucking whistle,” Blizzard protested, waving him off.
“And your girls? What about them?”
