“Fuck that,” he hisses. “I don’t want trash like you as my brother. You’re nothing but a fucking criminal.”
“What is your fucking problem?” I growl. “I don’t even fucking know you.”
He takes a step toward me, his chest puffed up, his shoulders squared, and his eyes narrowed. He really thinks he’s something standing here in front of me. And maybe he is. I wouldn’t know.
Because…I do not know him.
And I couldn’t give a fuck less about him. But he obviously gives a fuck about me, and that makes him somewhat dangerous.
“I hate people who break the law, Colter. Fucking despise them. And here you go, trying to be a cop and do that? Unacceptable. You’re a piece of shit, and I won’t have you at my back. I won’t be at yours, either.”
“Never asked you to. Don’t recall even having talked to you before this, so I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”
He leans forward, narrowing his eyes on me, but I hold my body loose. I’m ready for a fight. If there needs to be a fight, I’m here for it and prepped. But my muscles are loose, my eyes aware and alert.
“I’ll figure you out, and I’ll take you down.”
Finally, he steps to the side to allow me to pass him. I almost roll my eyes because the theatrics of it all are almost too much for me to contain myself. I enjoy the small-town police department because I can do my thing without anyone bothering me.
I’ve been working for Thunder Rock since I was twenty-five years old. Seventeen years, and nobody has once questioned my integrity or my work. I’m well known and liked. I do my job. Anddo my fucking job well, too. I’ve never even had a write-up, let alone a complaint.
My record is exemplary because work is work and the club is the club.
This motherfucker is trying to make it seem like I’m a dirty cop, and that shit pisses me off. Not only because I’m definitely not, but if something goes wrong and my integrity truly comes into question, so does every single case I’ve been involved with. It all gets called into question, and that is unacceptable.
Leaving the precinct, I take my phone out of my pocket and find Ivy’s name. I need some information on this Garcia, and if anyone can dig something up for me, it’s him. If I do it, there’s a chance someone will catch on, and I don’t want to have any red flags at all hanging over my head.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
PIGGY
I’m sittingoutside the club. I know I’m not dressed for working here tonight, but I still want to go inside and check on Millie. This whole thing with Garcia has me a bit rattled, and until I know exactly what the fuck his situation is, I can’t help but wonder if it runs deeper than just him being worried about my position with the Reapers MC.
It feels bigger.
My gaze scans the parking lot for a moment, taking in all the cars, before my brows snap together. There are a lot of cars here. A lot. More than on a usual Friday night, and it’s typically packed on Friday nights.
Flicking my attention to the main entrance, I blink at the sight. There is a line of men down the side of the building. I don’t understand what the fuck is going on. The Gilded Room is consistently busy, packed but not a line out the door, waiting-to-get-in busy.
I open the pickup door, unfold from the seat, and make my way toward the back entrance. There’s no reason for me to go tothe front and make a scene. One of the guys at the back will let me in just as easily, and then it doesn’t matter how I’m dressed, because none of the customers will have laid an eye on me.
Goose jerks his chin at me, opening the back door to let me inside, but I don’t go in immediately. “What’s with all the people?” I ask.
“Some influencer made a post or some shit, and it’s been insanity all night.”
“Fuck,” I moan. “That’s all we need with that fucking asshole looking for Millie and being able to blend in this fucking crowd.”
“Bennet is creaming in his slacks at the amount of money being spent. So are the girls. There’s no way you’re gonna get him to shut any of this shit down.”
“Yeah,” I grunt. “I figure that. Heading inside. Let me know if you see anything.”
“Will do,” Goose murmurs. “And, Piggy?” he calls out.
I’m halfway down the hall, so I stop and turn to face him. Jerking my chin in his direction, I wait for him to continue. His brows knit together before he speaks again.
“Yeah?” I ask.
“Glad you finally claimed Millie as your old lady. Welcome to the ball-and-chain club, brother.” His lips curve up into a shit-eating grin.
