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And without another second, the door to the clubhouse blows off its hinges. We duck as the metal flies back toward us, narrowly missing Grudge. We raise our hands as SWAT officers come rushing in like the fearless fuckheads they are, rifles drawn on us like we’re the ones who are invading their turf. They yell and scream at us to keep our hands up and to get on our knees. It’s barely audible, with all of them saying it at once. The melding of their words with the chaos of the noise in the area is almost deafening.
Fucking assholes!
My heart races as I slowly drop to my knees, my hands raised above my head, as a SWAT officer comes in behind me, shoving his knee into my lower back. I yelp, the pain almost unbearable as he shoves me to the floor face-first.
“Hoodoo!” Maxxy calls out as I groan, my face sliding along the concrete as he pulls my arms behind my back.
“Fuck, man, ease up. I haven’t done anything!”
He leans against my ear as he pulls me back to sit on my knees. “I don’t give a shit, biker scum. Now sit there andshut the fuck up.”
My back hurts like a motherfucker, and my shoulder cramps with pain. I glance down, and my stab wounds have obviously reopened and are now bleeding through my shirt.
Fucking assholes!
An FBI agent walks through the door in his pristine suit, taking in the clubhouse, looking like he feels dirty by just being in here. He takes one look at me, then his eyes shift to Marcel and the Baroness, who are casually sitting at the bar drinking like nothing dramatic is going on.
He gives a curt head bob to the Baroness, then continues inside and stands in front of the rest of us. “My name is Special Agent Nate Crawford… who is in charge here?”
Hurricane lifts his head, curling his lip. “I am, and you, Nate Crawford, have interrupted my fuckin’ weddin’, so whatever the hell this is, it better be for a damn good reason.”
Crawford starts pacing the clubhouse floor, looking at us one by one, then he stops in front of me and exhales. “We have a missing person’s case that hit our desks, and we have been searching for this individual for several weeks to no avail.”
Jesus Christ! I don’t like where this is heading.
I side-eye Bayou and Omen, but they don’t attempt to look back at me, keeping a straight face.
“Well, that’s sad and all, but I don’t know why that means you should interrupt my wife’s big day?” Hurricane snaps.
Crawford chuckles, still standing before me, taking out a notepad and glancing over some notes, reading them before speaking—obviously to add dramatic effect. “The thing is… we had footage from the hospital where our missing person was suspected to have been taken. And one of the last patients she was known to have taken care of wasyou,Mr. Kincaid.”
Shit.
I shrug my sore shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t been to the hospital in weeks, not since I was discharged.”
Crawford hums under his breath. “And yet… we have a tip that says you and our missing person had a bond. So it surprises me that you aren’t even concerned for her whereabouts?”
I scowl at him. “Look, Agent… whatever your name is, I don’t even know who you’re talking about, so how can I be concerned for someone when I don’t know who is missing?”
Crawford chuckles. “Charlotte Monroe. Name ring a bell?”
I scrunch up my brow. “Not really… I mean, I had a nurse when I was recovering called Charlotte, but to be honest, I was so out of it and had no clue what was happening in there most of the time.”
Crawford lowers his pad and looks right at me. “Mm-hmm… search the premises. I want anything you can find that will lead me to Charlotte or any knowledge of her whereabouts,” he states, and the SWAT team and other members of his team start moving about the clubhouse, and they don’t give a fucking shit about anything. They break glassware and tear pictures off the wall, which starts to grate on us all. The anger in the room is palpable, and I’m concerned one of the brothers may very well retaliate.
Imogen begins to cry with all the commotion, and Kaia moves to pick her up, but a SWAT officer aims a gun directly at her. “Don’t you move a fucking muscl—”
“Get that gun out of my wife’s face, orso help me God!”Hurricane yells, going to stand, but the officer behind him slams his rifle against the back of his knees, making him fall back to the floor.
Kaia instantly raises her hands in the air. “Babe, don’t. It’s okay, Immy’s fine. If she’s crying, at least we know she’s okay, just upset. Don’t get yourself hurt because ofthem.”
Hurricane pants frantically through his nose as he focuses on Kaia and his daughter while Crawford continues to assess me. “You know, Kincaid, this canallstop if you just tell us what we want to know. Where. Is. Charlotte?”
The truth is, I have no idea what Bayou and Omen did with her, so I can answer him with complete sincerity.
“I have no idea. That’s the God’s honest truth.”
Crawford straightens out his suit jacket and tilts his head for someone to come over. The younger SWAT officer whispers something in his ear, Crawford’s face starts turning red with anger, but he nods, and the officer walks off, taking his team with him. “Don’t think we're giving up on this just because we couldn’t find anything concrete. Our source has told us you’re our guy. Thatyouare the person responsible… I’m not letting this go, Kincaid.”
