Wisps of hair had come loose from her bun to frame her beautiful face. Perceptive, bright blue eyes gave me a quick once-over before her hand went into her bag and she took a step back. The fear in her eyes was unmistakable, and I can’t say I blamed her. Wearing jeans and my cut over a short-sleeved T-shirt that revealed my fully tatted-up sleeves, most people would take one look at me and assume my time in the courthouse should be spent under guard and within the confines of handcuffs.
Still, it rankled.
“Is it the tats or the cut?” I asked.
“What?”
She had a nice voice. Not high-pitched and annoying like some of the broads I knew.
“The reason you’re lookin’ at me like I’m about to attack you. Is it the tats or the cut that has you trying and convicting me before I even get the chance to open my mouth, counselor? And what are you reaching for? I know you can’t have weapons in the courthouse.”
Straightening, she eased her hand out of her purse and pushed the door close button, sending the elevator to the fifth floor. “Habit.” She patted the outside of her bag, as if confirming that it was lacking anything that could protect her from me. “I don’t know you, we’re alone in an elevator, and I’m cautious. And, might I add, I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
Damn, she was fine. Confident, intelligent, sassy, sexy-as-fuck, if she knew half the things I wanted to do to her, she’d be wishing for whatever self-defense trick she usually carried so she could hit me with it. Maybe a good pepper spraying, or a few volts of electricity would get my libido under control. No matter how fine she was, my purpose for being here was much more important than a roll in the hay. Or a roll in the elevator, as it may be.
“I have a case I hope you’ll be willing to take,” I said.
“Then you should call my office.”
“I’ve tried. Please. Just hear me out.”
She looked me over again, as if forcing herself to give me the benefit of the doubt. Something flickered in her eyes. Interest? Attraction? I couldn’t tell, but I sure as hell wanted to find out.
“Dead Presidents?” she asked, reading the patch on my cut. “Never heard of them. That some sort of gang?”
“No,” I snapped. Then, reminding myself that I needed Emily’s help, I reined in my temper. “Sorry. Gang is an offensive word. We’re a motorcycle club. All ex-military, and we specialize in helping vets get back on their feet after they come home from the service.”
Her expression changed. Softened. “Sorry. I didn’t—”
“Don’t worry about it. Name’s Link. I’m the club president.”
“And you’re in need of legal assistance?”
I nodded. “My sergeant at arms is in jail for attempted murder. Attacked the wrong dumbass… some mayor’s kid.”
Her eyes widened. “Mayor Kinlan’s son? Your friend’s the one who put Noah Kinlan in intensive care?”
“Yeah.”
“Sorry, not interested.”
The elevator dinged and the doors opened. I was running out of time. I hit the door-close button and turned to face her. “You haven’t heard the full story,” I blurted out. “I came here because people say you’re fearless and persistent and you always ferret out the truth. That true? Or is it bullshit?”
She folded her arms across her chest and said, “You have one minute. Talk.”
I took a deep breath and let it all out, “My club brother, Havoc, stopped off at The Line to have a drink. After his beer, he went out back to light up a smoke and finds this girl screamin’, skirt hiked up around her waist and some asshole plowin’ into her as she’s begging him to stop. We don’t put up with that shit, and Havoc jumped in and beat the punk to a pulp before two of the bar’s regulars came out and interfered. They called the cops and Havoc got thrown in the slammer while this shithead is plastered all over the papers like some goddamn hero.”
“Wait.” Her eyebrows had crept half way up her forehead. “You’re telling me Noah Kinlan was raping someone?”
“That’s exactly what I’m tellin’ you. The papers sure as hell aren’t saying it. It’s like it never happened. Like Havoc snapped and tried to kill him for no good reason, but I’m tellin’ you I know my friend. No doubt in my mind that he lost his shit and tried to kill the asshole, but he wouldn’t make up some story about a girl getting raped.”
Expression still stunned, she shook her head. “But what happened to the girl?”
I shrugged. “No fuckin’ clue. My guess is that the mayor paid her off or made her disappear or something. Havoc said he saw her being loaded into an ambulance, but I haven’t been able to find hide nor hair of her.”
“What about witnesses? The bar regulars?”
I shook my head. “I went back to the bar and asked around, and nobody’s sayin’ shit.”
