Cody heard the pounding but he was so tired and his body ached from the abuse the guys had put him through the night before, that it was barely registering as real. He hadn’t lain down in bed until almost five. He heard several loud bangs and then an echo that followed. He raised his aching head and looked over at the clock. It was six a.m. If those fuckers were trying to wake him up to fix their breakfast or some other bullshit….

“Hanover PD. We’re coming in. We have a warrant to search the premises.”

“Fuck!” That woke him up and a mainline of adrenaline shot through his body. He had a flashback to the night he killed the man that had killed his brother. They’d used a megaphone then to tell him to come out with his hands in the air. He’d done what they told him to and he’d given up eight years of his life for it. He didn’t think he could do it again.

He pulled on his jeans and stepped over to the window. Pressing his body into the wall next to it, he looked out. There was a black van with the white letters “Gang Task Force” stenciled onto the side. There were also four or five black and whites and a couple of unmarked cars. He could see men in full flak gear and others in regular clothes and uniforms. The guys in the flak gear had a battering ram and it was aimed at the front door. Shit. Just then he heard the sound of a Harley approaching. He looked down the road and saw that it was Dax with a cloud of dust behind him. The front gate must have alerted him. Cody tried to take stock of who was still in the clubhouse. Brew and his father had disappeared during the party and they hadn’t come back. Liam and six other Irish Mayhem guys were there, himself, and probably Tank, who usually hit the kitchen by four a.m. A few of the club girls were probably still around too, in the great room with whatever man passed out fucking them. He wondered how long it would take the cops to get through all of those people and make their way to him. He knew from his old troublemaking days that he could use the ladder in the back hallway and climb up into the crawl space of the house. But would that be better, or worse?

Dax’s motorcycle shut down and Cody heard lots of yelling. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but none of it sounded good. He glanced out again, just in time to see Dax being put into a pair of handcuffs. Son of a bitch! He was still debating what to do when his phone dinged. He looked at the screen. It was a text message from Macy. “In the kitchen with Dad. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m scared.” That was all it took for Cody to go from self-preservation mode back into being part of the team—Macy’s team, at least. He grabbed a clean t-shirt and pulled on his boots before heading down the stairs with his heart in his stomach. Everyone was gathered in the great room. Cody stepped past them all and made his way into the kitchen. As soon as Macy saw him, she threw herself into his arms. They’d been there before, more than once. When they were kids this happened often when the DA’s office first set its sights on bringing down the “gangs” in the county. It wasn’t any less scary now than it had been back then. For Cody, with his memories fresh of being inside, it was even more so. He could feel Macy shaking against him, though, so he put his own worries aside and kissed the top of her head.

“Don’t worry, Mace. You know the drill. Just do what they tell you and everything will be okay.”

“What do they want, Cody? What are they here for?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know,” he lied. He was sure they’d gotten his fingerprints off that motel door and were there for him. “I’m going to see what’s going on.” He tried to let go of her but she grabbed onto his arm and said:

“I’m going with you.”

They walked out of the kitchen together and around the bar, just as the doors were opened and the place filled up with men in black, yelling at them to get down on the ground and put their hands out in front of them. Macy looked at Cody with round, frightened eyes. He nodded at her and dropped to his knees before sliding down to his belly. He knew the position well. As he put his hands out in front of him he was reminded of his general population days in prison. They were few, as soon as they found out he was “affiliated,” but more than once the yard had gone down and this was how they had to lie until the correctional officers cleared it all up.

It took a good two minutes for everyone to get down flat. The cops left two of the men holding guns on them while the rest of the team went to clear out the rooms in back and upstairs. Cody felt bad for Tank when he saw him lying on his belly. He doubted that the hefty man could breathe very well like that.

Once the team gave the all-clear the cops began going around asking everyone if they had a weapon. Dax insisted all weapons on the ranch be locked up in the basement of whichever home you were staying or living in, so thankfully no one had a gun on them. A few of the Mayhem had knives, which were kicked away by police as soon as they laid them on the floor. When that was done, Cody saw a pair of legs, dressed in expensive slacks and a pair of expensive shoes, coming his way. The legs stopped directly in front of him and Macy, and the man attached to the legs and suit said, “Cody Miller?”

“Yes.”

“Get up, slowly. Keep your hands up over your head.”

Cody thought it was a good thing he was in good shape. That wasn’t an easy position to rise from. Once he was all the way on his feet he realized the man that belonged to the legs was none other than Angel’s brother…Harley’s boyfriend…Kyle Brady.

“You have any weapons on you?”

“No.”

“Cody?” Macy lifted her head up. Before Cody could warn her Kyle said:

“Stay down!”

“You don’t have to talk to her like that, she’s scared.” Cody still had his hands on his head. His arms were going to sleep as Kyle acted like a badass and stared him down. When he finally spoke it only pissed Cody off more.

“Then maybe she should be more careful of who she runs with.”

Cody had his mouth open to say something that would probably get him wrestled to the floor and cuffed when Macy said, “It’s okay, Cody. I’m okay.” She didn’t lift her head and that time Kyle didn’t say anything to her. Cody returned his attention to Kyle and was told:

“Keep your hands there and walk over where the uniforms are by the door.” Once Cody got to the door he was searched. He could see Dax sitting on the ground outside the door with his hands still cuffed behind his back. This was exactly the shit that Dax didn’t want him bringing down on them. Cody wondered how pissed off he was.

“He’s clean,” one of the uniforms told Kyle.

“Okay, put your hands behind your back.”

“Am I under arrest?”

“Nope, not yet, but you’re a felon on parole…do I need to remind you of the guidelines?”

Cody didn’t answer him; he just put his hands behind his waist. He heard Kyle chuckle. Damn, he wanted to wipe that smug look off his face with his fist, badly. He was cuffed, too tightly, and guided down to the dirt next to Dax. He chanced a glance at Dax’s face. It was that blank look that Dax had mastered. It could mean anything from being ecstatic to murderous. Cody was guessing the latter. Going to jail might almost be preferable to Dax’s wrath when this was all over.

* * *

Cody had been left in an interrogation room, alone, for at least two hours. He was thirsty, hungry, and he had to pee. But he sat there at the table, rigid, with his eyes forward because he knew they were watching him. They wanted him begging for things when they came in…things they could use as leverage. He’d spent his time trying to figure out what to say. They were going to ask where he was at the time Stitch was killed. He couldn’t use Jimmy as an alibi, as Jimmy had told him to the day before. Liam had talked to someone who told him Cody and Scalper were off the ranch for a while. He was sure whoever that was had talked to the police as well.

“Mr. Miller.” Cody didn’t turn at the sound of the voice; he didn’t have to. He knew it was “S. Hoffman,” his hot, tiny, mean-as-a-piss-ant parole officer—and from the sound of her voice, she was ready to skin him alive. He waited until she walked around the table and was facing him and then he said:

“Miss Hoffman, nice to see you.”

“Is it?”

“Not really, I was just being polite.”

She laughed. “Honesty, I like that. Let’s hope you can hold onto that for the rest of the interview with the police. They say one of you has turned up dead, again.”

“He wasn’t one of us. He was with Irish Mayhem.”

She smiled. Not pleasantly. “You’re all the same, aren’t you?” He didn’t answer that. “Cody, did you have anything to do with Mr. Granger’s death?”

“Who?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t play with me.”

“I’m not. I don’t know who Mr. Granger is. I guess if you need an answer, it would have to be no, since I don’t know him.”

“Stitch is what he went by.”

“Oh yeah, him I knew. But no, I didn’t have anything to do with his death.”

“Let me see your knuckles, please.” Cody held out his hands in front of him. His right hand had been red all day after he knocked Stitch out, but it was back to normal now. She looked at his face then and said, “Who gave you the bruise on your jaw?”

“A man named Scalper. He was visiting us from out of town. He and I did a little sparring yesterday.”

“And where can we find this…Scalper?”

Cody had a pretty good idea they might be hiding out at Scalper’s mother’s house in Boston…but, he wasn’t going to do the police’s jobs for them. He shrugged. “Have no idea. They headed back to California yesterday.”

“What were they doing out here?”

“Just visiting—family, I think. They stopped in to say hi to me.”

“They? Who was he with?”

“His son, Brew.”

“Names, please?”

“Like with Stitch, I don’t know any other names than those,” he lied. She glared at him again and said:

“Do you know who Kyle Brady is?”

“I think we met this morning.”

“He’s in charge of the gang task force. He’s been a cop for over ten years. He can smell bullshit from two miles away…”

“He sounds amazing.”

“Shut the fuck up, Miller. Detective Brady is coming in here when I leave and I’m just warning you, he’s not a nice guy.”

“Thanks for the warning. Is this like good cop/bad cop…like on Law & Order?”

“Your punk ass is going back to jail if you don’t cooperate, Miller.”

“I’ve been nothing but cooperative, Miss Hoffman. Not knowing what you want me to say is not being uncooperative.”

“Were you at the Roadside Inn yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Business.”

“What kind of business?”

“I dropped off some of our ‘more than legal’ porn DVDs to a man who was staying there. He’s a good customer, apparently. Dax has me running errands for the ranch and the club. That was one of them.”

“What’s this man’s name?”

“You’ll have to ask Dax. I didn’t make conversation. It was more of a drop and run. There was a party going on at the clubhouse that I wanted to get back to.

“How many DVDs did you drop?”

“You’ll have to ask Dax. I didn’t open the bag. The guy I gave them to opened it when I got there and I saw the DVDs. He seemed satisfied with what was in there.”

“Did you see Mr.…Stitch…while you were there?”

“Nope, but I wasn’t looking for him. The Irish Mayhem were supposed to be staying at the clubhouse this weekend. I can’t imagine why Stitch would be at that motel alone. Maybe he had a falling out with someone in his club.”

“I’m handing you over to the police, Cody…don’t fuck this up.”

“Thanks for the encouraging words, Miss Hoffman, I’ll take them to heart.” She looked like she wanted to punch Cody in the face as she left. He still needed to pee, but he’d forgotten about it for a few seconds while he was fucking with her. Hopefully Kyle would be just as much fun.