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“Lorenzo,” I snapped. Fuck, I swear, sometimes I wanted to punch these men in the fucking face for their thoughtlessness.
He cursed and looked at Amelia. “Forgive me?” he asked her, pouting.
Amelia rolled her eyes at him, sighing. “As much as I hate the bitch, no one deserves that kind of torture. I forgive you though,” she assured him.
He smiled and pulled Tammi after him as he walked away. My dad walked over. “We’ve got a problem. FBI agents just rode into the lot, demanding to search the place. They’ve got warrants.”
“Let them search,” I told him with a shrug. “We’ve got nothing here, and we’re all licensed to carry concealed.”
Amelia moved away from me and walked outside. I followed behind her, knowing how she could get with her temper. “Oh, it’s the old bastard,” she snapped, glaring at an older man as he stepped out of the car. “Are you going to fart around or do something productive?” she asked him.
“It’s such a pity that they released you,” he told her, shooting her a glare. “You would have been safer there. We all know you’re heading down a road that will only get you killed.”
Amelia rolled her eyes and glared at a black-haired man. I grabbed her arm before she could storm over to him. The last thing I needed was for her to land her ass back in jail. “You!” she yelled, her body shaking with rage. “You fucking bastard!” she seethed. “What you did to me was fucking illegal!”
“Don’t forget you’re only out on bond,” he reminded her, a sick, twisted smirk on his face.
I put my hand over her mouth before something that could send her back to jail flew out of it. “You need to calm down,” I growled in her ear. “You don’t need to get sent back to jail just because you’re temper got the best of you.”
The black-haired FBI agent walked up. I tensed. It was taking a lot for me to not knock him on his ass, but I needed the FBI away from here, and we needed off of their radar. “Cole, is it?” he asked me.
“Yeah.” I shook his hand, forcing myself to be pleasant. I just had to play nice while they searched the clubhouse. “What’s yours, agent?”
“Agent Blake.” He smirked. “You’ve got a feisty one on your hands,” he said, gesturing to Amelia.
I looked over at her as she walked away and then looked back at him. “What do you have against her?” I asked him.
“You’d love to know, wouldn’t you?” he asked.
He walked away and into the clubhouse. Amelia sat on the ground against the building. Her face was pale, and she had her head between her knees. I knelt next to her. “Baby, you okay?” I asked gently.
Before she could answer, she leaned away from me and threw up on the ground. “Water,” she muttered. “Get me some water.”
I got up and jogged into the clubhouse. I shoved past Peanut and got Amelia a glass of water. When I came back outside, an agent was holding a bottle of water to Amelia’s lips. “Morning sickness sucks, doesn’t it?” the woman asked her. “I never would have survived my pregnancy without a ton of water and any kind of crackers. How far along are you?”
“Thirteen weeks. I didn’t start throwing up until a couple of days ago,” Amelia muttered, taking another gulp of water from the bottle.
I watched from a distance as the woman sat beside Amelia, letting her keep the water bottle. “You know, I didn’t start throwing up until I was probably about sixteen weeks into my pregnancy. I was absolutely miserable. My boyfriend was busy a lot. He wanted to be there for me, but he couldn’t. He had to do what his president wanted.”
Amelia jerked back, staring at her with wide eyes. “Who the fuck are you?” Amelia demanded.
The agent sighed and leaned her head back against the building. “I’m Lisa Gray—an FBI agent. I was sixteen when I got pregnant with my daughter.”
“You were involved with bikers?” Amelia asked incredulously.
She handed Amelia her card when she saw the agents coming out of the clubhouse. “Give me a call, and I’ll come out here and talk to you. I know how hard this life can get. Trust me, I’m an ally, not an enemy.”
Amelia took her card slowly, watching as Lisa got up and walked to her car. Amelia turned her head to me, her eyes wide with alarm. I shrugged and walked over to her. “If I were you, I’d give her a call, baby. She just gave you some shit to blackmail her with. If that’s not a statement that clearly says‘you can trust me’, I don’t know what is.”
“Cole, she’s the fucking FBI,” Amelia sneered, the thought of any member of law enforcement being an ally obviously pissing her off and making her wary.
I tucked her hair behind her ear. “You know, not all cops are enemies, babe. The best allies are made when you give someone a chance.”
She glanced at the card and then back up at me. “If this backfires, I’ll shoot you in your foot. I don’t want to go back to jail, and that’s all that’s ever happened in the past.”
14
Amelia
