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“You really need to let the past go.”
Refusing to comment, I ignored the asshole. I knew nothing I said would change his mind. According to Payne, Montana was in the right and I was just being a little bitch about the whole thing. Fucker could think what he wanted. He wasn’t there that day. He didn’t know the whole truth. Fuck it. Maybe I didn’t either, but I knew enough.
There was no love lost between the two of us.
There was a time when Payne and I were friends, but not anymore. The second I walked away from my family and the Soulless Sinners, I created a divide and nothing would bring it back together again.
There were times I wanted to reach out, but my anger refused to let me. I couldn’t get past what Montana had done. Instead, I immersed myself within the Diamondback M.C. and over time, the need to reach out faded. Now only anger remained.
“When are Taylor and Monk arriving?”
“Officer Taylor has to drive into Duncan to get his dad. They should be here soon. As for Monk, he hasn’t responded to my text. I’ve sent Widow and Whisper to find him. You still thinking one of them is holding back?”
“Makes sense. I’m leaning towards Monk than Mr. Taylor. The old man has no reason to lie. He’s a farmer. An honest man and well known in his community. However, when I checked into Monk, I found nothing. Not even the fucker’s real name. Gotta say Kansas, that reeks of deception, to me.”
“Of course you would think that. There are no secrets in the Soulless Sinners. You confess all your sins to the board before they brand you.”
“Not all of them,” Payne whispered, as someone knocked on the door. Blackjack walked in. He looked pissed.
“What?”
My brother looked at Payne before saying, “Conroy called. He wants you out at the Taylor Farm.”
Slowly getting to my feet, I asked, “Why?”
“Ben Taylor and his father are dead.”
The scene was utter chaos as Lawton and Duncan Police officers moved about, consoling, talking or helping the others. I spotted Justin Conroy along with the Police Chief, Raul Mateo, standing with two other men in suits. I didn’t need to know who those fuckers were.
The chief called in the FBI.
He said he would and he did.
This shit just went from bad to worse.
“This problem just exploded, Kansas. I’m calling Montana.”
Before I could stop him, Payne walked away, his phone in his ear as Conroy whistled, getting my attention.
Fuck!
Heading over to talk to Conroy, a few of the officers stared at me with hate in their eyes. I knew rumors ran rampant in the police station, just like it did in the club. I didn’t begrudge any of the officers their feelings but fuck it all to hell. We were all on the same side this time. I wanted this motherfucker caught and killed as much as they did.
“Kansas, this is Agent Cross and Agent Porter with the Oklahoma Federal Bureau of Investigation. They are taking over the case.”
Quickly shaking their hands, I nodded. “Gentlemen.”
“So, you are the reason three police officers are dead,” Agent Porter grinned condescendingly, as he chewed on the rim of his sunglasses. Fucker looked like a puffed-up punk with an axe to grind and I wanted to shove those sunglasses up his ass. Fuckers like him were a dime a dozen. I dealt with harder assholes in New York City.
This bitch was nothing more than a two-pump chump.
Squaring my shoulders, I took a small step forward. “Are you arresting me, asshole?”
“Kansas,” Justin muttered, placing his hand on my shoulder. His way of trying to calm me down. “Agent Porter didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then the fucker better explain himself.”
“What my partner meant to say was thank you for coming so fast. If there is anything you can add to help us find this murderer, we would appreciate it.”
