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We all head into the waiting room, where we say our goodbyes. I’m dead on my feet as I check the time on my phone and let Ringer lead me downstairs and out to his bike. It’s already one in the morning, and we still have to go back to the clubhouse before we can go home. Ugh.
* * *
By the time we get back to the clubhouse, I’m surprised as hell I didn’t fall asleep on the back of Ringer’s bike.
Pulling into the parking lot to the site of red and blue lights flashing has the hair on my arms rising. Two officers, one male and one female, are standing near the crashed-in front door where Brenna’s car still sits.
“What the hell?” I squeeze Ringer’s waist tighter in my embrace.
Ghost flies into his spot next to us and curses. “Fuck.”
The rest of the club pulls in and parks. Everyone steps off their bikes with confusion and anger lacing their faces.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Truden?” Ghost barks.
“Fuck,” Ringer exhales, and his head falls.
“What’s going on, Ring? Who is that?”
“That’s Derek’s brother, Michael.”
Derek, the kid that he accidentally killed? Why would his brother be here? With flashing lights? We’re the ones that were attacked. They had a bomb in our kitchen, not to mention that these have to be the same people that blew up my bakery.
“You know damn well I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to be,” the officer sneers.
Ringer helps me off the back of the bike as we all gather in a circle in the parking lot. Ringer wraps his arm tightly around me, pulling me flush to his side.
The officer’s eyes follow the movement, and they twitch as recognition flashes in his face when he sees me.
“Can we help you officers with something?” My dad calls, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Ah. Mr. Neal. Yes, we were sent out to investigate an incident that was brought to our attention.”
The officer,Michael,smirks and refuses to break eye contact with Ringer.
“Mind telling us what that is?” Ghost adds.
The officer finally breaks contact and widens his stance as if he was the most relaxed man in the world. He rests one hand on the pistol at his side lazily. “Well, we have it on good authority that someone from this location, someone who is a part of yourorganization, firedshots at two retreating motorcycles.”
My palms start to sweat, and I can’t help the whimper that leaves my throat.
Ringer squeezes my shoulder and pulls me even farther into his side.
“Mind telling us where this ‘good authority’ comes from? See, we were having a nice Halloween costume party, then headed to the hospital for the last few hours while ourfamilymembers had their babies,” Ghost says, his tone cool and calculated. He’s mirroring the officer's relaxed stance, except his arms are crossed over his chest.
The male officer turns to the female and says something inaudible to the rest of us. Her eyebrows pinch in before she shakes her head in question. Michael smirks when he turns back toward us. He takes the few steps to stop right in front of Ringer and me. My heart races through my chest.
“God, I’ve been waiting years for this.” He smiles before pulling his cuffs from his pocket. “Emmett Mack, you are under arrest for the attempted murder–”
Suddenly, it’s like I’m plunged under water. I can’t hear a thing the officer says as he reads Ringer his Miranda rights. I’m pulled away as the officer forces Ringer’s hands behind his back. I clue back into the present, and my ears start working, only to realize I’m screaming as he tells Ringer he has the right to an attorney.
“No, no, no!” I yell, not giving a shit that he is currently securing Ringer’s hands behind his back. I break free from whoever has been holding me back and throw my arms around his neck, clinging to him. “No! This can’t be happening again!” I shout.
Tears stream down my cheeks. I distantly feel my dad pulling me back by the waist. “No!” I fight against him.
“Please, baby, don’t fight. Don’t give them a reason to target you too. It’ll be okay,” Ringer says, pressing a kiss to my cheek.
I let my dad pull me back a step and frown at the officers. “Why are you doing this? He didn’t do anything!”
