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“Okay,” I whispered.
In any other city in America, I wouldn’t have been particularly concerned.
But knowing what I knew about the situation between the police department and the Midnight Riders, my heart started to beat a little faster.
“Hey, Kade,” the cop said.
“Bob,” Kade answered as he let the engine idle.
“Sorry about this – they’re making us stop everybody for DUI checks. Do you mind getting off the bike?”
“I kind of have somewhere to be,” Kade said.
“It’ll just take a second.”
“Orders from the top,” Kade said.
“I’m sorry, man,” Bob the cop said. “Just humor me, will ya?”
Kade sighed, killed the engine, put on the kickstand, and got off the bike.
“You got your license and registration?” Bob asked.
Kade looked like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Are you serious?”
“I’m sorry, man…”
“Hold on,” Kade said, and reached for his wallet.
Bob was fast.
I never even saw the taser. Just heard the POP! and the tchzt-tch-tch-tch-tch of the electricity.
Kade collapsed on the ground. His whole frame was in spasms, and his face looked like he was in agony.
“KADE!” I screamed.
“Sorry, man,” Bob said apologetically to the writhing body on the ground.
I tried to get off the bike, but before I could get very far, two other cops were running from the patrol cars. One grabbed my jacket, pulled me off the Harley, and slung me to the ground. With my face in the asphalt, he pressed a knee in my back and clacked handcuffs on me.
I screamed in pain and fear.
A few feet away, Kade watched me, helpless, his body still jittering on the ground.
