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When I did, it fucking floored me.
“…Fiona?!”
9
Lou didn’t say anything. He just stood there watching me.
“Fiona,” I repeated – like Are you fucking serious?
Lou shrugged. “Makes sense to me.”
“That’s – that’s ridiculous.”
“Chick breezes into town – a chick with a black belt in kung fu or judo or whatever the fuck, to boot. You don’t know shit about her, but she winds up at your body shop askin’ for a job – ”
“We met because she was a waitress at Charlie’s and got harassed,” I snarled. “How do you explain that one?”
“Maybe the guy who harassed her was a plant.”
“That’s – no! That’s fucking crazy!” My mind was racing. “And since she does know Krav Maga, why would a federal agent flaunt it to our faces?”
“Fuck me if I know. But you stuck her in the middle of my operation,” Lou said, his voice thick with contempt. “That was an interesting play, wasn’t it?”
I knew what he was getting at.
He knew I’d placed her here to spy on him.
I’d felt a little guilty – towards Fiona, not Lou – ever since I’d spent the night with her. Guilty about making her a pawn in Lou’s and my fucked-up game.
But now I was beginning to wonder if I had been the one who had gotten played. By her.
No… I couldn’t believe that… this was fucking insane…
But I couldn’t think about that now. I had to reply to Lou.
“I couldn’t exactly give her a job as a mechanic,” I snarled, trying to throw up a smokescreen.
Lou didn’t buy it for a minute. I could see it in his eyes. “Mm-hm. Anyway, interesting that she wound up in the hotbed of everything illegal in the MC, seeing as you’re too dainty these days to get your hands dirty. Directly, anyway.”
“There shouldn’t be anything illegal going on in the MC,” I raged.
“Yeah, yeah, argument for another time. Anyway, we got a mole in our midst.”
“You don’t know that.”
“So why the hell is the DOJ interested in Richards, huh?”
“It could be anything.”
“That ‘anything’ would be one hell of a coincidence, considering the timing.”
“Even if there is a mole, you’ve got no proof it’s Fiona.”
“No, but it would be another hell of a coincidence if it wasn’t her, wouldn’t it?”
I had to admit – and I hated to do it – but Lou was making a lot of sense. “So what do we do?”
“Don’t worry. I took care of it.”
