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“Well, yes.”
“Did you follow in your old man’s footsteps?” I asked, respectfully.
He laughed. “Hell no. He was a plumber until the day he died, right under the sink inside an old, beat up trailer house in the desert. Worked his ass off all his life for nothing.”
“I love the law and justice, too, and that’s where I want to put my energy. I have enough confidence in the law to know that if the Reckless Bastards were doing something illegal, someone would be in jail.”
I knew exactly what businesses the MC dabbled in, just about everything from gun to drugs to girls, but it was up to the law to deal with it when—and if—they could prove it.
Sarge nodded, seemingly satisfied by my words as he pushed away from the desk and stood. “You heard about the double murder with that priest?”
“Yes, sir.” I nodded because how could I not? “It was on every news station.”
“Right. The Feds requested you as the local PD liaison for this case.”
I caught myself before I did a double-take. I’d been on the job all of two weeks. “Thank you, sir. But why me?” This was the kind of lucky break that could change the trajectory of someone’s career, but I was skeptical. I barely got here, so it didn’t make any sense.
“You want it or not?”
“Yes, sir, I do. But I’d like to know why me? I’m still a rookie cop.”
Sarge rolled his eyes and folded his arms. “Feds believe that your connections to people on both sides of the law make you perfect for what they need.” He sighed and leaned forward to look at me directly. “This is a good thing, Ellison. You do a good job and you’ll likely be fast-tracked for a promotion.”
“Thank you.” I stood and smoothed down the crisp creases on my pants. I still couldn’t believe I wore the uniform. “Just for the record, I don’t live my life on both sides of the law. I’m a law enforcement officer, and my family is my family.”
“Noted. Change into your civvies and go find the redhead with too much fucking attitude. The Feds have commandeered one of our meeting rooms for their headquarters, at least for now. Dismissed.”
I was excited for the opportunity of working with the FBI on the Mueller case. As much as I hated it, I did have valuable insight that might help them figure out what in the hell happened in that hotel room.
But that didn’t mean I lived on both sides of the fucking law. I did what needed to be done to protect my family because that was what families did. My being a cop had nothing to do with that. I was all for justice.
But after what happened to Luke, witnessing the crime itself and the aftermath, the way it tore his family apart, waiting for answers and justice that still hadn’t come, had made it clear how I wanted to spend my life.
I wasn’t immune to the collateral damage the MC left in its wake, all in the name of business. It left a mark, as did the funerals and the late-night wounds needing to be patched up.
When I was a kid, those impromptu days, sometimes weeks spent at the clubhouse seemed like a grand adventure, a cool reason to skip school. But as time went on and my understanding became clearer, they were more terrifying than fun. I didn’t know any better back then. I thought it was all normal, how every family lived their lives.
Until I met Luke and his picture-perfect family who did things like game night and family vacations and backyard barbecues. He was the last kid on the planet who deserved to take a stray bullet, but he had. And chances were good the reason his family hadn’t gotten any justice was because the shooter, or his boss had a cop or three on their payroll.
That was why I was here, to ensure that while the bad guys did their thing, the good guys did the same. Protect the innocent.
That meant I needed to do what Jenkins had advised and own both parts of myself. Even though I wasn’t a criminal, I had insight into how criminals thought and the steps they took to evade the law.
I knew many of the players most cops didn’t even know to look for, and I would use that, use every tool at my disposal to become the best cop I could be.
It didn’t matter what anyone thought about me, not even the Feds.
Results. Justice. Saving innocent lives.
Those were the things that mattered. Fuck everything else.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Madison
“You can’t expect to get over your grief so quickly, Calvin.” I sat cross-legged on the oversized chair in Cal’s suite of rooms with Ava Rose cooing in my arms, listening to Cal rant, his words swinging from angry to tearful.
