Chapter 28
Laiken
I sat back in my chair at the office as I ran my fingers through my hair. For the past two hours, I’d been making runs to the courthouse, staring at my fucking computer, and going through all these files. No one had bothered me, and I was thankful for that because had anyone tried to intervene with any circumstantial bullshit, I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to hold my tongue. All of these failed charges and botched court appearances were for stupid shit. Circumstantial evidence, paperwork being processed wrong, names being misspelled on documents. It had laziness and Daniel Carmichael written all over it, and because of it, The Devil Saints were getting off the hook for all sorts of shit. Domestic abuse charges, murder charges, racketeering charges.
All of it lost because of stupid shit, and all of it won at the hands of Daniel Carmichael.
I hunched back over my desk and started in on the last box. It held the past ten years of The Devil Saints’ lives, and I was ready to take it in. I had memorized every name, face, and involvement the police department had with this club, and I was ready to take in more.
But then, I came across the shootout.
Articles that had been cut out of the newspaper and charges filed that were never pursued. Body counts and the names of those they thought were killed. There were pictures of the scene after the shootout, with barrels and sand drenched in blood. It was splattered along a warehouse and running through the street.
Then, I came across the first link to The Road Rebels I had found in all of this paperwork.
The police had tried to investigate the deaths of The Road Rebels members, and one name stood out to me. My captain was the lead investigator on it. He had notes and questions written in the margins of his paper. Theories and postulations that made sense, but none he could ever prove. No wonder this man was so hell-bent on getting The Devil Saints put behind bars.
They had slaughtered practically an entire rival motorcycle club just because they could.
There was no evident motive found for the shootout, but it was assumed The Devil Saints started it. Since it was on The Road Rebels turf and only two Saints members were killed, the police drew the conclusion that it was The Road Rebels that were blindsided. I looked at picture after picture of the carnage. The bodies lying in the sand pumped with metal and twisted at ungodly angles.
It made me sick just to look at.
But, just like everything else The Devil Saints did, they couldn’t find any hard evidence. Bullet casings were missing, and those taken from the bodies had lost their registrations. I found paperwork filed to try and get them to appear in court and explain themselves. Arrest warrants to try and bring them in to get more information, but nothing ever panned out.
And still, Daniel Carmichael’s name was popping up.
Holy fuck, Jace was right. As I continued to devour the last box of information, I could see the disgusting picture being painted in my mind. The documents noted a change-over in the President of The Devil Saints, and then things got brutal. Charges of prostitution were brought against them. Selling drugs out of their compound and all sorts of other shit. Things like ‘child labor?’ and ‘where did she go?’ were written into the margins of papers and pictures the police had filed and collected over the years.
That was literally all this department had to go on for the past three decades.
Fucking theories and circumstantial evidence bullshit.
The Devil Saints were disgusting. But even though they were, that still didn’t excuse The Road Rebels. Now it was time for me to dig into them. Figure out what the hell this police department had on them.
And shockingly enough, it wasn’t much.
By all accounts, they were a legitimate motorcycle club. They owned a bar on a deserted highway that allowed minors, which probably meant they were serving them. But, it couldn’t be proven, and the police department hadn’t investigated any further. They had a mechanic’s shop the club owned and worked, and by all accounts, it seemed to be legitimate. Had all of the correct licensing and employee records. I couldn’t find a single thing to substantiate the ‘chatter’ that they ran drugs or anything else, but that usually meant they were just good at covering their tracks.
I sat back in my chair and took a deep breath before my cell phone started to vibrate.
“Officer Riley,” I said.
“Laiken. It’s Jace.”
I sat upright in my chair as the sound of his voice pounded in my ears.
“Jace,” I said. “Um, yes. Hello. H-... how are you?”
“Did I interrupt something?” he asked.
“No, just… sitting at my desk,” I said.
“Then I’ll make it quick. Can you meet me? I have some information for you.”
“What?” I asked. “Information?” What the hell information could Jace want to give me?
“Damn it, woman. Can you get to my house or not?” he asked.
“You don’t have to be so demanding,” I asked as I grabbed my things.
“But I thought you liked that.”
“I can hear your smirk.”
“And I can feel your blush. Meet me at my place in twenty minutes,” he said.
“On my way.”
I had no idea what the hell he meant by information, but I had to clean up before I could go. I shoved the notes I was taking into my desk, then packed everyone up and took it back down to the evidence locker. I went out the front and found my car, trying to calm my nerves in the process. If no one was looking for me, then it meant they weren’t going to ask me any questions about where I was this afternoon. And now that we were going into the weekend, no one would question the fact that I was leaving at four thirty instead of six.
I got into my car and took the quickest route to Jace’s home. I was anxious to see him again. Just being able to clear my head and back up some of what he had told me helped me to trust him again. I still wasn’t completely there, but I couldn't deny how I felt about him. I still cared for Jace and his well-being, and all I wanted for him was to be safe in whatever it was he had gotten wrapped up in.
And as long as The Devil Saints were still active, he would never be safe.
I pulled up into his driveway, and he was waiting for me. Leaning against his motorcycle like he owned the fucking world. My heart fluttered in my chest as I got out of my car, and the two of us headed inside where we could talk.
He didn’t even get the front door closed before my mouth ran away from me.
“You were right about The Devil Saints,” I said. “They’re a ball of fucking trouble. And their lawyer, Daniel Carmichael, is right in the middle of it.”
I watched as Jace turned towards me and shrugged off his leather cut. I eyed it realizing that it had The Road Rebels logos on it. A slow smile spread across my face. This was the first time I had seen him in his club’s cut, and I couldn’t help but think of how good it looked on him.
“But it’s all circumstantial. And they have even less on you guys. With the little bit of information they do have on you, by all accounts on their end, you’re a legitimate club. They check up on you, but it’s nothing big.”
Jace’s eyes found mine, and I could feel myself melting into the floor. Why the fuck was I telling him all this? I was cooperating with a fucking criminal. I could lose my badge over this shit.
“Anything else?” he asked.
I shook my head as I lowered my gaze to his chest.
“I talked with the guys,” he said.
“Your club?” I asked.
“We’re getting out of the drugs.”
“Wait, what?” I asked.
“We took a vote, and it was unanimous. We’re getting out of the drug trade,” he said.
“But… why? Why would you guys…?”
“Get out of something illegal?” he asked.
I could see a small grin playing upon his cheeks as I snickered.
“Yeah. Why would outlaws like yourselves not do something illegal?” I asked.
“Because even outlaws have people they love. Families they want to take care of.”
I rose my gaze to his and saw the intensity behind his eyes. He was fucking serious. The Road Rebels were backing out of the drug game. Not that the police had any evidence of that game anyway. But that was a massive step. It would get the DEA off their backs for sure.
Wait… was that the point?
“It’s been coming for a little while,” Jace said. “The club is over the danger it puts them in, and with kids coming into the picture many of the members are refusing to pedal them anyway.”
“There are kids?” I asked.
“We’re people, Laiken. People with hearts and souls and desires and fears. Yes, some of us have kids. Families. Women we want to protect,” he said.
“Do you have someone you want to protect?” I asked.
Jace took a step towards me and cupped my cheek. His thumb ran across my cheek, and I nuzzled into the palm of his hand. I could feel his calluses rubbing against me, scratching my skin and, somehow, bringing me some sort of solace.
Some sort of comfort.
“How are you guys going to get out of it?” I asked.
“I can’t give you that information, but I wanted you to know that we were doing it. We’re pulling the plug,” Jace said.
Holy fuck, his touch felt so good.
“You’re never really going to be safe, you know. With The Devil Saints around,” I said.
“I know. Fully protecting our club and their families means getting rid of them. Disbanding them and putting their asses in jail. That’s how this violence will stop. That’s how these threats will cease.”
Just hearing it from him… hearing that confirmation of a theory that was rattling around in my head… was all I needed to shock myself with what I asked next.
“Okay, then. How can I help?”