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“Good.” I stand, smiling, when her gaze goes straight to my semi-erect cock. “Because I’m going to fuck you in the shower, and then we’re heading to the clubhouse to get all this shit straightened out.”
“I guess we’re jumping right into the fire?”
I take her hand and pull her off the bed. “It’s what we do.”
“You’re lucky I love your crazy ass,” she says, heading to the shower.
I laugh and join her in the shower, keeping my word and fucking her—twice—in the shower before we dress and make our way to the clubhouse, high on life.
Maggie’s resilience is a constant source of strength for me, but we both have things to work out. At least we have each other while we’re working them out.
“What the fuck is going on?” Maggie hops off the back of my bike before I kill the engine, and I’m about to yell at her for doing that shit when I see what’s caught her eye.
Cop cars. Half a dozen of ’em in the parking lot. I kill the engine and walk toward Ace and Doherty. “What’s going on?”
Doherty looks at me, his expression resigned. “Dr. Kane Bishop, I hate to do this, but you’re under arrest for the murder of Jake Lilly.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My knees threaten to buckle, but I hold my ground. “What? Who the fuck is Jake Lilly, and why do you think I killed him?”
“You got any evidence of that?” Ace does what the Prez does— protects his men.
That’s when Tank steps up, his face set in a scowl. His voice is flat, devoid of emotion. “It was me, man.”
Doherty turns to Tank, surprise etched across his face. “You're confessing to the murder?”
Tank’s face is stone-cold. “We fought. But I didn’t kill nobody.”
I stare at Tank, grappling with what he’s just done. This is no game. He’s putting himself on the line for the MC.
I stare at one of my newest brothers as he turns and lets Doherty slap handcuffs on him. “You have the right to remain silent...” Doherty's voice drones on as he cuffs Tank.
”What the fuck, Tank?”
“It’s all right, Doc. I’ll be fine. Still got the bruises to prove I was just defendin’ myself.” Behind the false bravado is all the other shit. Fear. Anxiety. Hope.
Been there. Done that. Bought the fucking t-shirt.
“Don’t say shit, man,” Ace calls out. “A lawyer will meet you at the cop shop.”
As the cop cars pull away, I’m worried. And a little scared.
My fucking stupidity could take the whole club down.
* * *
