Every muscle in my body seizes as a surveillance photo of a man on a motorcycle comes into focus. Heavily tattooed, deep scowl, snake-wrapped Sinner skull adorning his leather jacket. Axel Donovan. The other reason I can’t find peace when I close my eyes at night.
“South Bay has a biker problem,” he continues. “And we’re here to fix that for you.”
“Think he could fix that stick up your ass too, Deck?” Miller whispers.
I force a smirk. “You sister did that for me last night.”
Morgan pauses. “Comment, Officer…?”
Fuck. Sighing, I stand a little straighter. “Decker, Sir.”
Wells throws me a scathing look. I am in such. Deep. Shit.
“Is there a question?” Morgan asks, his grey brows arched.
“Uh. Yeah. The Soldiers of Sin have been a problem for decades, and this isn’t the first time the OPP has come around to help. Why is this time any different?”
Eyes narrowing, Morgan tilts his head. “Any relation to William Decker?”
The muscles in my shoulders stiffen. “My father, sir.”
He hums. “As I’m sure you know, and as your father and former chief of police would likely attest, it’s not an easy thing, taking down a criminal organization. Particularly one like the Soldiers of Sin. From the outside, they may seem disorganized, but I assure you, they’re anything but.” He clicks the remote, moving on from my question without answering. “Axel Donovan and his Sinners have a strong influence, not just in South Bay, but across most of the province and farther East.”
Images of various forms of contraband appear on the screen—weed, pills, liquor, guns. And cocaine. That’s Axel Donovan’s business. Drugs, mostly, but he dabbles elsewhere depending onwhat kind of heat is on the club. It’s why the Sinners have been hard to nail. They adapt. Profit margins shrinking in the newly regulated cannabis market? He moves to coke and pills. Too much attention from the feds on his shipments at the border? He switches to acting muscle for the gun runners in the city. He’s always moving. The man just wrapped up a two-year prison stint at Central North, and in that time, business barely slowed. Much as I hate him, he’s far smarter than the average gun-wielding, drug-toting criminal.
Morgan drones on, detailing club hierarchy, known dealings, and affiliated crime groups. Shit we all know. As if we haven’t lived here our whole goddamn lives.
“No disrespect, sir,” I interrupt. “South Bay isourtown. We know the Sinners. Some of us even grew up with them. We might not have a fancy presentation laying it all out like that, but none of this shit is new to us. You want our cooperation? You got it. But you’re gonna have to sell us on how your little unit plans to fix ourbiker problem.”
“Decker,” Wells barks.
I shut my mouth and scan the room, noting the nodding heads and pissed-off expressions.
Our job is to keep the peace and do it using the path of least resistance. When bullets don’t fly, civilians don’t die. The Sinners keep the more dangerous aspects of theirbusinessoutside the boundaries of South Bay, and in turn, maybe we don’t go kicking in their door every other day.
Keep the peace. Protect the town.
Every few years, some dick looking for a promotion rolls in with somespecial unit, shakes shit up, fails to eradicate our biker infestation, and then rolls out. They don’t stick around to stitch our town back together after the dust settles. That’s always on us.
“That’s all right, Chief,” Morgan says with a tight smile. “I imagine your team is anxious to get started. So let’s get to it.”
Another man steps up to join him. Dark hair, square jaw, smug fucking look on his face. He crosses his muscled arms over his chest.
“Detective Sergeant Remy Allen,” he says. “I’ll be your lead on this. Anything gang-related goes through me.”
He skirts the podium and stops in front of the first row of chairs. He’s a lot less buttoned up than his boss. A lot younger too. Mid-thirties maybe, like me. And all muscle. Easily twice the size of most of the guys in the room.
South Bay is a small town with big time criminals. It’s a fucking magnet for guys like this. The chance to nab a guy like Axe Donovan and bring down his chrome-plated criminal empire? The asshole is practically salivating.
This guy’s gonna be a problem.
“Our unit,” he continues, “uses advanced surveillance and infiltration tactics to target key operations. The end goal, like Detective Inspector Morgan mentioned, is to disrupt and dismantle the organization. A key focus on disruption.” He stands even straighter, his chest puffed out. “I wanna know where they are and what they’re doing at all times. I want to be in their face twenty-four seven. I want to interrupt shipments, fuck up supply chain, disrupt cash flow. I want to catch them on anything and everything. Minor infractions are our friend. The more arrests, the better.”
Yeah. This guy’s gonna be abigfucking problem.
“So… you wanna piss ’em off?” Miller calls out, wiping chip-stained hands on his pants, reddish blond hair standing on end.
Allen breaks into a menacing grin. “Exactly.”
