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I trusted Dr. Cartwright and believed her when she said her program would help me get released. I’m still sitting here.
“Let’s go, Riggers.”
I frown at the guard.Go where?He opens my cell door, and I stand up to follow him. This is one of those occasions where keeping my mouth shut is key. I don’t have to ask questions. He sure as shit doesn’t have to answer them.
He leads me to the private room where my therapy sessions were conducted. Those ended years ago when the board declined Dr. Cartwright’s recommendation that I be released. Apparently, I’m a liability since my brother is a member of the Iron Claw MC. Guess they didn’t realize the doc is his ol’ lady.
I take a seat, waiting for Dr. Cartwright to arrive. I don’t want to get my hopes up that this could be a good thing. She could be coming to tell me the board has changed their minds since I’ve been a model prisoner. Wishful thinking.
The door opens, and a woman walks inside. Not Dr. Cartwright. Her dark red hair is pulled into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She has hazel eyes and full lips. Christ, it’s been a long time since I’ve buried my cock in a willing pussy. Heard a woman moan my name. Felt a woman’s touch.
“Mr. Riggers,” she begins.
“Jaden.”
“Mr. Riggers, I’ve been reviewing your file. You’ve been incarcerated since 2018 for aggravated burglary and attempted murder. You were sentenced to twenty years. You’ve been a model prisoner for seven.”
“I’m sorry. Who are you?”
“I’m the woman who’s going to get you released.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I believed that once before. She couldn’t make it happen. Why should I believe you can?”
“My name is Lieutenant Harloe Kelley. You’re going to work for me.”
Harloe
He laughs again. Son of a bitch. Jaden Riggers isn’t what I expected. Yes, he has tattoos. He’s rough around the edges. He’s been in prison for seven years. If that doesn’t make someone rough around the edges, I don’t know what will.
But he doesn’t look like a biker. Doesn’t look like he could belong to a motorcycle club, certainly not Iron Claw MC. He doesn’t have that fuck with me and die arrogance they all have. His eyes, although sad, are kind. It’s the mouth that’s doing me in. Soft, almost pouty lips with this baritone voice that’s as smooth as fucking butter.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be laughing,” he says, doing a poor attempt at holding it in. “You seem like you’re serious.”
“I am very serious, Mr. Riggers.”
More laughing. “You see, lady, I’ve given up hope on getting approved for an early release. So, stop wasting my fucking time. We’re having meatloaf for lunch and I’m hungry.”
He goes to stand, and I grab his arm. His body immediately tenses, and I ease my hand away. He sits back down, keeping his hands below the table and out of my reach.
“I work for the California Police Department. I’m Chief of Operations for a special task force focusing on human trafficking in the San Francisco area.”
“I can’t help you with that.”
“But you can. Your brother is a member of the Iron Claw MC. We have reason to believe they’re involved.”
He scoffs. “The Iron Claw wouldn’t be involved in human trafficking.”
“Police Chief Brown has had them under investigation for years.”
“Was that before or after he was involved in his own daughter’s kidnapping? Perhaps you should be investigating him, not the club.”
“He was killed on the job two years ago.”
“Good riddance.”
“Look, Mr. Riggers?”
“Jaden.”
