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“Probably because he hasn't got a death wish,” Lucille laughs to herself.
“Everyone knows the rules about dealing in Manitou Springs, sweetie. That’s why our chief’s got so many shiny trophies in his cabinet.”
I tut out loud in frustration.
“You really need to let your hair down. A few of us are going to a party in Pueblo next week, one of the officers there is retiring. You should come.”
“I’ll think about it,” I make her a false promise to keep her off my back before heading for my office so I can plan my next move.
It’s late, I should be heading home, but I have to start making some progress. I could look over the files again to see if there's anything I’m missing, but I’ve been over them so many times the thought of doing it again hurts my head.
I need a reason to go to the club, to see if I can meet Abby for myself and get a feel for the girl. I’m sure I’d recognize her if I saw her, the photo I have of her is recent. Looking at the clock on the wall, I see it's past six, and fuck it, what have I got to lose?
Grabbing my keys, I head out to my patrol car and take a drive out to the Blue Spruce Resort.
I pull off the main road and head through the open gates to the club. There’s a long bumpy road that leads up the hill to the clubhouse, and I take it steady while I figure out what I’m gonna say when I get there. Parking up in front of the clubhouse, I get out of the car and take a moment to pluck up the courage to step inside.
“Evening, Officer,” his voice comes from behind me, startling me and making me turn on my heels far too quickly.
Squealer’s standing a few meters away from me, wiping his huge greasy hands with an old rag. The same hands that had crushed my tits as I straddled his hips and rode him. He’s wearing overalls, the top half of them tied around his middle, despite it being freezing cold. The white vest he’s got on top shows off every single muscle of his tattooed chest and arms.
“What can we do for ya?” He rolls a toothpick between his lips and looks me up and down. It’s so wrong that I like the way he looks at me, especially when it seems so degrading.
“I came to see you actually,” I manage as he stalks closer, his all-man scent getting stronger. Dirt, oil, and cigarettes.
“Squeal, you gonna help me finish this or not?” an angry female voice comes from the building on the opposite side of the yard, and I have to cover up my shock when a small, blonde figure in bright pink overalls pokes her head out the door.
“Give me a sec?” he hollas, before bringing his attention straight back to me.
I have to swallow the lump in my throat. How have I never noticed the few tiny freckles on his nose before? Maybe it’s the long smear of oil on his right cheek that’s emphasizing them.
“You were saying?” He’s noticed that I’m distracted, and I can see in his eyes that he’s getting off on it.
“Huh?” I quickly try pulling myself back together.
“You were saying you came here to see me,” he smirks.
“Yeah, um. Robinson, Luke… I mean Luke Robinson. I came to tell you that he won’t be pressing any charges for the assault.”
Squealer nods his head and slightly pouts his lips. He doesn’t look relieved, he doesn’t look bothered at all.
“That’s real dutiful of you to drive out here to tell me,” he adds with a hint of sarcasm.
“I like to be thorough.” I fake him a smile.
“So I heard.” He rolls his tongue around inside his cheek and smirks again.
“I should go. You seem to have your hands tied.”
Squealer licks his lips, and I can’t help notice his eyes are on my mouth when he does it. Butterflies break out in my stomach, fluttering at a rapid rate, and I'm pissed at myself for such a ridiculous reaction.
“Thanks for the heads up.” He tips his head to me before slowly backing away, eventually turning around and heading inside the car garage.
I drive home and head straight for the fridge, grabbing the cold bottle of wine and pouring myself a glass. There’s no denying that Squealer does things to me that he shouldn’t, I wish I’d never slept with him in the first place. That way, the vision of him beneath me and the fierce look he had in his eyes as I rode out my orgasm on his cock wouldn’t keep creeping into my mind. I knock back a huge gulp of wine. It’s much sweeter than I expect, but it feels good as it goes down. Just not as good as an orgasm from a filthy, bad biker.
I need to get the man out of my head, so I root through my bag and pick out the folder of information I have. Ivan Cooper is another person who might hold some clues to the man I'm looking for, but he’s disappeared. He was last seen here, in this town, but his whole operation seems to have folded.
From what I’ve researched, the man was organized. How is it possible for him to just vanish? It’s my guess that the Souls had everything to do with it. They don’t like people stirring shit on their territory. I’m not here to judge the Souls; they can keep their shitty town and their moral fucking code. I’m here to get justice for someone who doesn’t deserve to be dead.
