The cop smiles. He’s a little on the shorter side, kind of skinny. Blond hair. Beard. Dumb smirk that says we got you, Donovan. We win.
Yeah, yeah. You win. Whatever. Just let me out of here. And give me back my damn bike.
“No,” he says as he steps inside the cell and closes the door behind him. “I’ve got some questions.”
This guy must be new. Jimmy pulled me and my mom out of club life when I was just shy of seventeen, but it’s not like I wasn’t paying attention for all those years before. We don’t talk to the police. You wind up in handcuffs, you shut your mouth and wait for the lawyer to show up.
Except no one knows I’m here. There’s no lawyer. No big brother coming to bail me out.
He strolls over and sits next to me on the bench. I move to scoot away, but he grabs me roughly by the arm and pulls me closer. The move causes the handcuffs to tighten further, making my wrists scream in pain. A strained whimper sneaks past my lips, and in response, he breaks into a disgusting smile.
Fuck this guy.
“How about we start with something simple?” he says. “Is Jimmy in town?”
I clamp my lips shut. Jimmy is far away from here. Thank god. If he knew I was in a jail cell in South Bay, the one place heforbademe from going, he’d go ballistic.
“Where is he?”
Like I was raised to do, I keep silent, my glare steady.
He shifts, like he’s settling in. “I suppose you don’t want to tell me what your brothers have been up to?”
How the hell should I know?
I’ve barely spoken to Axe since I was a teenager. We may share a last name and half our DNA, but we’ve never been close. And I don’t have any idea what’s going on in Jack’s life either. We haven’t been a family in a really long time.
“Look. We can do this one of two ways. The easy way, where you answer my questions like a good little girl, and when I’m done, you walk out of here in one piece. Or we do it the hard way. You won’t like that one. It’ll be a lot less… pleasant.” He leans in closer. “And you don’t want that, do you?”
I smile, ignoring the urge to shudder. “Yes, please.”
Never let ’em see you sweat, kid. You let ’em rattle you, you let ’em win.
“I was hoping you’d say that.” He grips my arm tighter as his other hand moves to my upper thigh.
I jerk away, my stomach jumping to my throat. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Don’t touch me.”
“Like I said. Unpleasant. Foryou.Me, though? I think I’ll really enjoy this.” Before I can even consider screaming, he slaps a hand over my mouth and pulls me tight to his body. “Look around, bitch. It’s two a.m., and we’re in the basement cell. No one’s gonna hear you.”
A tidal wave of fear washes over me. No.NO.
This isnothappening. Cops don’t do this. Not even the bad ones.
Finally, I scream, but the sound is heavily muffled under the weight of his hand. I kick at him, but he’s got a firm grip and holds me in place. Tears burn in my eyes, threatening to spill out as my heart thrums violently and panic grips my chest.
“This is the hard way, you understand?” he grits, his hot breath heating the side of my face. “You tell me what I want to know, or I’ll spread those biker whore legs wide open and fuck you until you’re ready to talk.”
I fight against his grip, but it’s no use. He only slides his hand higher on my thigh. My pulse bangs hard against my eardrums, drowning out all other sound.
“Problem here?” a voice says.
I tear my focus to the cell door, which has once again been opened. Relief blooms in my chest.
Dark hair. Chiseled features. Handsome face. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see Lincoln Decker.
We lock eyes, and he holds my gaze for a beat. Then he turns to the officer restraining me, his face neutral. The picture of calm. The knot in my stomach twists. This cop is threatening to do what men do best, putting his hands where they don’t belong. And Decker’s just… he’s just standing there.
The asshole holding me doesn’t let go. “Decker, isn’t it? I’m Murphy. Allen said you’d be cool. That we had an understanding. Wasn’t wrong, was he?”
