Joel fumed as he watched Carla grow smaller and smaller in the rear-view window of the police cruiser until she was just a blurry shape in the back of the other squad car. When he couldn’t make her out at all he turned back around, settling himself as comfortably as he could with his hands still cuffed behind his back.
This wasn’t the first time he’d been in this same situation, taken in for some charges or other, but he had a sinking feeling in his gut this time. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the triumphant grin on that bastard Maurice’s face, or because Carla was involved. She was tangled up in all of it and he knew for a fact that she’d never had to go through something like this. He prayed she would just continue to follow his lead and stay quiet.
That was the only way to protect herself, to protect him and the others. He thought of Hot Wheels. They were still trying to build a case against her but didn’t have enough physical evidence, just supposition. But if Carla said the wrong thing, revealed the wrong thing, that could all change. She could unwittingly hand the authorities everything they needed to nail not only Hot Wheels, but him and the Dirty Cruisers as well.
Joel shook off the thought. He knew Carla, and he knew she would never intentionally rat them out. It was just what she could unintentionally do or say that had cold sweat breaking out across his brow as they drove back through the winding, mountainous roads towards the state trooper facility that ran just off of the highway.
He didn’t see the rocky cliffs that they drove past or the towering shrubby trees and green scrub bushes. He didn’t even notice the immense blue sky that winked cheerfully down at them. Now the only thing he could see were her eyes, wide, scared sapphires in her pale face looking at him, pleading and begging for help that he couldn’t give her. Not now, anyways.
Joel jiggled the handcuffs, testing their strength surreptitiously as the officers in the front of the car stared placidly ahead, as if he wasn’t there at all.
“So,” he said suddenly, breaking the intense silence, “how exactly did you guys come across us? That cabin is pretty secluded.” Joel made sure to keep his voice as casual and conversational as possible, as if they were sitting at the bar having a beer instead of him, locked in cuffs and trapped in the back seat. His legs scratched against the peeling leather and he tried to ignore the smell of humanity that pervaded the space, and probably always would despite how many times it got cleaned.
They didn’t respond for so long that Joel was certain they were just going to ignore him, but finally the officer in the passenger seat turned his head slowly back until his sunglasses were pointing towards where Joel was sitting.
“I would suggest,” the cop drawled softly, “that you keep your mouth shut until we’re in the interrogation room. Don’t you worry. We’ll have plenty of time to talk then, and I’m sure you’ve got plenty of more interesting things to tell us.”
“I doubt that,” Joel growled softly to himself, knowing that they weren’t going to let anything slip. But it gnawed at him, the problem. Like an itch that he couldn’t scratch. Somehow, someway, at every step and with every move they made, Maurice and the cops were there as if they somehow knew the plan before Joel and his crew had even figured it out yet.
If he didn’t know the Dirty Cruisers better, he would have been suspicious that they had a mole. Someone feeding the police insider information and ratting out the club, but that was impossible. He knew Tucker and Honey like brothers and Hot Wheels would give her life before betraying them. Her actions alone were proof enough of that if he needed any. And even Viper, with his quick temper and sarcasm had absolute loyalty within the club. They had all proven themselves over and over again in the years they’d been with the Dirty Cruisers. But how then?
One explanation echoed through his mind and he shied away from it, but that didn’t stop his thoughts from tumbling the possibility in circles. Carla. She was the only one who hadn’t been tested by past situations. She didn’t owe anything to the club. But even still, it didn’t make sense. She wasn’t working with Maurice. She couldn’t be. She practically bristled with hate and loathing whenever the man came up.
Unless it’s all an act, an insidious voice whispered. Unless she’s just been playing everyone like fools.
Everything inside him rioted at the idea but some part of it stuck, lodged deep in his mind, taking root and growing despite himself because, the truth was, he couldn’t come up with any other explanation for what had happened. The only way for the cops to find them at the safe house was for someone to give away the address and the only viable person to do that was Carla.
Joel could practically feel his heart shatter as the realization settled over him. After everything, the emotions he felt for her, still had for her even now realizing the truth just cut him that much deeper. Because he knew then, with a terrible clarity, that he was falling for her. Hard. Maybe he already had. And that just made the betrayal so much worse than anything else he could imagine.
His thoughts were cut off as the police car pulled into the station parking lot and braked to a stop in front of the door. The officers exited first and Joel just sat there, suddenly numb from the pain of his realization. He didn’t want it to be true. His mind desperately searched for another way, but with every dead end, that numbness grew until he felt like a cold, empty shell all the way through. By that time, the officers had pulled open the back door of the car and dragged him to his feet.
Joel was blinded by his twisting thoughts as they led him by his still-cuffed hands angled painfully behind his back through the dingy grey and uniform beige of the police station. There were other officers there but he ignored them all, his gaze trained on his boots, taking one heavy step and then another and another. He moved forward through what felt like quicksand, but he had no choice except to keep going.
A prickling sensation tickled at the back of his neck, like the teasing touch of a feather, and Joel slowly, laboriously lifted his head and looked back behind him. A shockwave hit him as his eyes collided with hers, silver against the bluest blue he’d ever seen. Carla stared at him, her expression still panicked and fearful but tinged now with a wariness that made him wonder what had happened to her on the short ride to the station. All his protective instincts roared to life inside him for an instant before he remembered that she was the one who was probably behind all this. That this charade was probably just another act to get him to say something to incriminate himself or someone else in the Dirty Cruisers.
Well, he would die before that fucking happened. Joel could practically feel all of his features harden as he stared at her, this woman he’d come to care so much about, this person who had ripped his heart to shreds after he was sure he didn’t even have one. Joel saw those deep blue eyes widen in shock and confusion, but the worst was the hurt.
He couldn’t let it get to him. He had to make sure he kept his crew safe, above all else. He couldn’t let his own bruised emotions make him slip up. With a snarl of disgust, he turned away, and followed the officers in their crisply pressed suits into the small, dirty interrogation room.
*
Carla watched, horror and confusion filling her as Joel was led into the room and the door slammed firmly after them. She could still see the look on his face as he stared at her. The way it had transformed, morphing even as she watched from blank to something so much worse. Anger. Pain. Almost…hatred.
She shook her head. She needed to be strong. For him. For Hot Wheels. For Tucker and Honey, and yes, even Viper. Anything she said, anything she let slip could get them all in trouble, or worse, and she wouldn’t let that happen. She would make Joel proud of her.
The look in his silver eyes flashed into her mind again, and she faltered for a moment, wondering at that look, but Carla shook it off again as one of the officers grabbed her by the wrist, jerking painfully against the hard metal restraints of the cuffs and causing her to wince before shoving her forward.
She glared over her shoulder at him, but it was like glaring at a wall for all the response she got. All through the drive there they had grilled her. Throwing question after question at her, but she had stoically maintained her silence, feeling like something was off the whole time but was unable to put her finger on it.
Carla was surprised when instead of taking her to another interrogation room they brought her to another area well away from the desks and offices and into what looked like a hospital waiting room. There were two old and uncomfortably lumpy looking beige couches pushed up against one peeling wall and a scratched coffee table in between them. There was a small television mounted up in the corner of the ceiling that showed a constant video feed of that area and she realized there must be a camera hidden in the cramped room as well.
The officer released her suddenly, unlocking her cuffs and gesturing for her to take a seat on one of the couches.
“Wait a minute. What’s going on? I thought I was under arrest. What about Joel–?” she pleaded for answers as he turned away.
“You are not under arrest, Miss Jensen. We thought it best to take you both in as…collateral to maintain Mr. Lasseter’s cooperation. You were questioned on the ride over and it was determined that while you may have a relationship with the accused, you don’t have any other vital information to add to the case at this time.” With that, the monotone voiced man began to turn away again, but Carla shot out another question.
“Why am I still here, then? What’s going on?”
“You can’t leave. Not until you’ve been cleared of all suspicion. Remain here, ma’am,” was all he said before he finally exited the small room and left her to stare around blankly, alone and more confused than ever.
Carla took a seat, shifting on the couch that felt as uncomfortable as it looked, and finally settled back with a sigh as she closed her eyes tight against the tears that threatened to fall. The events of the past few hours, hell the past few weeks, were all catching up with her and she prayed she could keep it together until Joel was released. She had a feeling the cop wasn’t telling her everything, she just didn’t know what.
“Hello, Carla,” the familiar voice drawled and her eyes shot open on a sharp gasp. She stared across the coffee table at the man who had taken a seat on the couch facing her, his beady eyes glowing in triumph as they returned her gaze.
“Maurice!” she said, the word breaking as it fell from her mouth in shock and disgust. “What are you…what is this…what the hell is going on here?” she finally forced out, starting to rise to call for help, to be moved. To be locked in a cell. Anything would be better than being alone in the room with him.
“Now, now. I wouldn’t do that just yet,” he said, and his expression pulled into a parody of a concerned smile as he continued to leer at her. “Remember, I was the one who led the police straight to your cozy little hideaway. I was the one who convinced them to take in both of you. And I am the only person standing between you and a jail cell. I convinced them that you don’t know anything, that you’re just an innocent bystander,” Maurice sneered at the word innocent and it made her skin crawl, “but we both know that’s just a lie, isn’t it?”
“I am innocent,” Carla said, her voice low and hard as she forced herself to speak, even knowing it wasn’t the truth.
“Of course you are, sweetheart. Aren’t we all innocent?” he said, leaning back and placing one pudgy arm across the back rest of the couch. It creaked ominously under his girth.
“Just tell me, Maurice. What’s going on here? What do you want?”
“What do I want?” he asked with feigned casualty, “What I’ve always wanted, Carla. You,” his expression twisted into a sick grin as he paused, “safe of course, and out of this whole mess that you dragged yourself into the middle of. It’s no place for simple, naive people like you.”
Maurice made a show of examining his fingernails as if he had no worries in the world, and Carla supposed he didn’t, now. He’d finally gotten what he was after. But there were still questions that nagged at her. Questions that were finally answered as Maurice continued bragging to her.
“You know, I actually should thank you.” His grin twisted even further then and as he leaned forward, the scent of sweat and body odor overwhelmed her she had to lean back, fighting the urge to gag at the emotion shining in his dark, beady eyes. Pure malice, hatred, lust and desire and, underneath that, something bright and gleaming that she would have almost called love if she didn’t already know he wasn’t capable of the feeling. It sent her reeling backwards even farther just to get away from it.
“W–why’s that?” Carla finally stuttered out, more terrified now than she’d ever been of him.
“Because, without even realizing it, you were the one who led us straight to you.”
“No, I didn’t. I know I didn’t. You’re lying,” she denied, her whole body rejecting the idea.
“Oh, you think so?” Maurice smiled again, mischievous and gloating as he pulled out his phone, hit a few keys and then turned it to show her the screen. Her heart started to beat rapidly even as she tried to understand what she was looking at.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered breathily and he cast her a mocking, pitying look.
“I know you don’t. I’ll explain it slowly so you can grasp it.” He pointed with one meaty finger to what looked like a satellite image of the police station. There was a flashing red dot in the middle of it.
“Do you see that? The red point?” Maurice grinned again and she shuddered. He sounded like he was explaining something to a child and that’s what she felt like as he continued, “That’s you. It’s a GPS signal that picks up from your phone and shows me exactly where you are, anytime of the day…or night.” That grin twisted then into something truly terrifying, “You’ve been spending a lot of nights with that scum biker boyfriend of yours but that will stop now. He’ll be thrown in jail and he’ll never see the light of day again, let alone your sweet flesh.”
Maurice reached out a hand towards her as if he meant to caress her face, but Carla jumped up from her seat before he could touch her.
“That’s illegal. That can’t be…that can’t be legal. I’ll just tell them. I’ll tell them that you’ve been–”
“What, Carla?” he sneered, “That I’ve been tracking your every move? That I have proof that you were there for every take down, every step of their illegal moving of the weed? My weed?” His voice hardened on the last, but then softened once more as he shook his head, “No, Carla, you’re not going to tell them anything. And neither am I. Believe me,” Maurice said, leering at her once more as she stood with her arms wrapped around her to ward off the sudden chill that settled over her, “It’s better this way.”