I have had to stand up to people my entire life for not only myself but for those I love and care for. If she wants to keep this up all night I can last longer.
I place my hand on my hip and arch a cool brow at her.
Only then, after what feels like a century, she nods her head, in what appears as a sign of respect, and breaks the stare.
“We came in hopes to ask you a couple of questions,” the man, who has a surprisingly gentle voice, says to me with his hands clasped on the counter.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I regard this duo a bit more closely.
The only people who ask questions either work with law enforcement, are a private investigator, or deal in crime.
And living in Hollows Point all my life I can guarantee that the duo before me is neither P.I. nor the type to work with crime.
“Well,” I begin, the sass in my tone evident, “can’t really give you an answer if you don’t ask first.” One day I know my mouth is going to get me in a world of trouble but it’s something I can’t help.
The man smiles, showcasing his pearly white teeth that aren’t perfectly straight. “We know you worked for a club called Hell’s Gates that was under rule by The Crowned Devils MC.” At the mere mention of that despicable and dishonorable club my insides can’t help but crawl, nor can I hide the disgust on my face.
“What about them?” Yeah, I can’t hide the disgust in my voice either. They were fucking animals.
“They used to rule this town, if I can remember correctly.” He’s not asking, rather stating.
I narrow my eyes at the both of them as I try to figure out their endgame.
“Your memory serves you correct,” I tell him, my voice giving nothing away this time.
“And now they’re all dead. Hollows Point no longer under their rule.”
I sigh dramatically. “Such a tragedy,” I say sarcastically. The man snorts while the woman looks on at me with hard brown eyes that mean absolute business.
“I’m sure,” the woman says dryly.
“You haven’t asked your question yet,” I point out to the man who has stated nothing but facts that needed no confirmation.
“No, I haven’t,” he agrees.
“Are you going to ask it because once Sasha’s show is over I’ll be busy.”
The woman goes for her back pocket and produces a black leather wallet. She then lets it fall open before me and my breath catches in my throat.
Agent Astrid Liu.
Federal Bureau of Investigations.
She taps on the badge with her clear nail polished finger. “It doesn’t matter how busy you are, Ms. Vale. You’ll take the time to answer our questions.” She places the wallet on the bar counter facing me. As if I need to see any more clearly that the FBI is questioning me. “Starting with Ethan Barrington, road name Oak.”
All the air evaporates and my heart beats wildly in the cavity of my chest. I can hear the blood rushing in my ears and my tongue feels like lead.
I try to remain indifferent, to copy the stoic expression Oak wears so effortlessly, but I feel as if I’m failing.
I just got him.
And I’m not going to let them, FBI or not, take him away from me.
I swallow, composing myself the best that I can. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”
Agent Liu raises her perfectly defined brow at me. “Don’t act stupid, Ms. Vale, I know for a fact that you’re not. You know Oak intimately.”
I blink from her bluntness. “You’re rather blunt, aren’t you?”
