Havoc: A MC Romance (26 page)

I spent the night thinking about how I was going to arrest Caleb and make it stick. All I had was a hunch—no, more than a hunch, an educated guess that Caleb's crew did the crime. But how could I pin it on the President?

Ariel purred next to me, rolled over and stretched out. I rubbed her belly and she closed her eyes. “What do you think I should do, kitty?” Ariel twitched as she began to dream. Probably about hunting mice. “A lot of help you are.”

The officers on the roof across from the junkyard found a discarded cigarette with a partial thumb print. I was still waiting back from the lab to see if they found a match. No way it would be Caleb, he'd get one of his men to pull the trigger. But it would be a start. Maybe get the shooter to roll over on Caleb?

The next morning I knew what my mission was. I crawled out of my sleeping bag and dressed in beige slacks and a light blue button-up. I pulled my hair back and put it in a ponytail. I made sure my pistol was loaded and holstered it on my hip. Small chance I'd have to use it but better safe than sorry. I scratched Ariel under the chin and said my goodbyes.

I dropped by the police station and took a squad car. If I was going to arrest Caleb, then it needed to be official. Johnson tried to convince me let him come along. “For your protection,” he said. I told him I was a big girl and could take care of myself. I drove over to the Black Widow abandoned warehouse. Nothing screamed criminal more than an abandoned warehouse. A line of Harleys were lined up outside confirming that I had the right place.

I sat in the car, both hands on the steering wheel, surveying the surroundings. Black Widow members went about their business, ignoring the obvious cop in their midst. They were used to this. I flipped over the sun visor and checked my makeup. “You can do this, White,” I said aloud. “No fear.”

I stepped out of my vehicle and walked over to the entrance, a hesitant hand on my holstered weapon. Nobody was going to surprise me today. A few members were crouched next to their bikes with tools littered all over the ground. I entered the warehouse and was transported to a nice-looking bar with pool tables. It was ten in the morning and the place was packed. Every barstool was taken and the pool tables were full of activity. “Enter the Sandman” by Metallica was blasting through the speakers.

“Eight ball, corner pocket,” a very tall and large man said. I recognized his face from the Black Widow file. He was Big Mike, the Sgt-at-Arms.

“You don't have the balls to make that shot,” another man with shaved hair replied. That was Tanner, the Vice-President to Caleb.

I watched for a moment as Big Mike bent over, pulled back the cue, and sent the ball flying. The white ball rolled to the corner and lightly tapped the eight ball, knocking it into the corner pocket. The large man stood up and grinned. “You owe me a drink.”

Tanner nodded and conceded, walking over to the bar. I approached Big Mike and asked, “Excuse me, I'm looking for Caleb.”

“Good morning, Officer,” he said, polishing the tip of the cue.

“Actually it's Sheriff.”

His eyebrows raised as he looked me up and down. “Well you sit tight, Sheriff, while I get the boss.”

I walked around the bar and everyone ignored me or they were too drunk to notice. Did they really do this everyday? A an older woman with sleeves of tattoos was behind the bar slinging the drinks. She stood out as the only woman from the Black Widow file: Claire, the den mother. She had such a sordid past that I couldn't read it all.

Caleb came out from a back room. He bit his bottom lip as he checked me out from head to toe. “Nice to see you again, Sheriff.”

I rolled my eyes. All men were the same. “Caleb, can we talk somewhere private.”

He bowed before me. “Of course, your Highness.” I followed Caleb into a meeting room with a large wooden table in the center. A large black widow spider was carved into the middle. These guys went all out with the theme. A row of picture frames of Black Widow members were hung on the far wall.

“What are these?” I asked, “Black Widow members of the month?”

Caleb shook his head. “Brothers we've lost.”

Oh shit!
How could I be so stupid? “I'm sorry, Caleb. I shouldn't have asked.”

Caleb went to the last picture frame in the row. A man with glasses stared back at me. “Issac died last year.” He kissed his fingers and pressed them against the photo. Did this outlaw have a heart? Caleb glanced at me with dark eyes. “What can I do for you, Sheriff?”

I almost forgot the reason for coming here. I planted my feet on the ground and steeled myself. “I need to speak to you about the murder of Garcia of The Death Merchants.

Caleb motioned for me to sit down at the table and he took the chair next to me. “Yeah I heard about him. Shame for the Mexicans. They're whole organization is probably in disarray.”

“Don't play games with me, Caleb. It doesn't take a NASA scientist to figure out that the Black Widow MC was behind it.”

Caleb put his hand on his chest like he was hurt from a knife to the heart. “I'm offended that you would even come to such a conclusion. The Black Widow MC is here to help the community. I'll confess that we had a beef with the Mexicans but we settled it. We didn't have a reason to kill Garcia.”

This man wasn't very good at lying. He'd need more practice if he was going to stay the President. “Answer me this, where were you two nights ago?”

“At the Stinky Goat with the rest of the crew. We were there until the crack of dawn, drinking and fucking.” Caleb leaned towards me, his eyes gazing into my soul. I inched away until I was on the edge of my seat.

I gulped. “Can anyone confirm your whereabouts?”

Caleb smiled. “Of course, you can ask any of those guys out there. They were with me all night.”

I shook my head and rubbed my eyes. They would all corroborate his story. I'd have to go to the bar and find someone who wasn't in deep with the Black Widow MC.
Probably not going to work but worth a try.

Caleb grabbed my hand and pulled it away from my face. A jolt of electricity shocked me. My heart spiked and I opened my eyes to find Caleb only inches away from my face. His manly scent was stirring a desire deep down in the pit of my stomach. I closed my eyes again and parted my lips.

Caleb's mouth pressed against mine and I inhaled sharply as a surge of adrenaline flowed through me. Time slowed as his other hand reached behind my head and pulled me in closer. His tongue slipped past my lips and danced between my teeth. I was clay in his hands, molding me into a new shape. I wanted him to bend me over the table, rip off my underwear, and take me like an animal
.

A small voice in the back of my head spoke to me.
This is all wrong, Emily. You can't be doing this.
And that voice was right.

I broke away from the kiss, putting the back of my hand to my swollen lips. My chest heaved up and down as I looked at the ground. I didn't dare make eye contact with Caleb. Then I'd really be done for.

Caleb lifted his wrist with one end of my handcuffs locked around it. “What the hell is this?”

I stood up and side-stepped behind Caleb. I grabbed his other arm and snapped the handcuffs shut. Caleb was too shocked to even fight back. “You're under arrest for the murder of Garcia.” I began to list off his Miranda rights as I lifted him up and lead him out of meeting room. It wasn't the way I imagined arresting Caleb but it had to be done. Now I just needed to get my heartbeat under control from that amazing kiss. I didn't want anyone at the station to suspect that the Sheriff was making out with a criminal. My career would be over before it started.

I stopped listening to Sheriff White a long time ago. Her lips were mesmerizing as she spouted off something about Garcia. That subtle amount of red lipstick was all she needed. My pants were so tight it was difficult to hide my throbbing cock. I imagined myself grabbing her ponytail and shoving her right in my crotch, watching those lips suck me off until cum poured out of her mouth.

I couldn't resist anymore. I grabbed her hand away from her face and went in for the kill. Her lips were as sweet as candy. I breathed her in deeply, our mouths working as one. I forced my tongue into her mouth and she loved it. My hand wandered to the back of her head and I almost thought about making her go down on me. But I couldn't get enough of her kiss. I pushed her against my mouth, harder, shoving my tongue deep down her throat. A quiet moan escaped her lips and I almost came right there and then.

Emily pulled away, wiping her mouth, looking like she had just committed the worst crime ever. I felt something cold against my wrist and looked down to see handcuffs around it. Without missing a beat, Emily was cuffing my other wrist and reading off my rights. This bitch was good. She played me like a fool.

She lifted me to my feet and pushed me forward and out of the meeting room. The entire MC glanced in my direction and there was an immediate uproar. Claire came from behind the counter. “What the fuck do you think you're doing, cunt?” Claire was known for her legendary cat fights. She could brawl with the best of them. Be easy on her, Claire.

“This man is under arrest,” Emily replied, walking me to the exit.

“To hell he is,” Claire screamed, blocking our path. Other members came to her aid, with arms crossed and furrowed brows.

“Easy, guys. She's just doing her job. I'll be out in no time,” I said in a calm voice. This could get out of hand very quickly. A dead sheriff would put all types of heat on us.

Claire huffed before stepping out of the way.

Sheriff White brought me over to her cop car and gently placed me in the back seat, covering my head to make sure I didn't hit it on the way in. The whole situation was a little ridiculous to me. I knew they didn't have anything on me. I didn't lay a finger on Garcia—even if it was one my men who did the shooting. This was just a way for Emily White to show off her newly-gained powers.

The ride to the station was filled with silence and watchful eyes in the rear-view mirror. I leaned forward in my seat against the grate that separated the front and back. “That kiss was really something, wasn't it?” I asked her. Emily didn't respond. “I mean the way your lips move against mine, the feel of my fingers on your skin.”

Sheriff White shifted in her seat. “I would advise you to stop talking.”

I relaxed in my seat and glanced outside at the passing scenery. “I bet your still wet right now.”

Emily gripped the steering wheel harder and kept quiet. She couldn't stop thinking about the kiss just like me. If she was going to play this game of arresting me, then I wasn't going to make it easy for her.

We arrived at the police station and Emily took me into the basement jail where there were four cells lined up in a row. Only one other guy was down there, patrolling his cell back and forth. He was obviously still drunk. The Sheriff produced a key from her pocket and unlocked the farthest cell to the right. She proceeded to undue my handcuffs and pushed me inside the cell before locking me in.

I put my arms through the bars and rested against them. “You're going to miss me, Sheriff,” I said with a big grin.

Emily approached the jail cell until our noses almost touched. I could almost taste her mouth again. My whole body tensed up. “You can't have this,” she whispered and walked away, swaying her hips back and forth. My eyes were glued to that hot piece of ass until she was out of sight.

I resigned to the small bench that was supposed to be used for sleeping. The guy in the cell next to me kept pacing back and forth, talking to himself about mayonnaise on hot dogs. “What's your name?” I asked him.

The man stopped in his tracks and looked up. “Name's Ronnie,” he said in a perfectly normal voice. He gazed back down at the floor and started doing his laps again.

Making conversation was the easiest way to pass the time while in lockup. “I'm Caleb, what're you in for?” Even if your cell-mate was a little crazy.

Ronnie kept shaking his head and kicking his left foot. “No mayonnaise on hot dogs.”

Not going to get much out of him. I lay back on the cement bench and closed my eyes. Steps down the stairs woke me up only moments later. I sat up to see Officer Johnson come in. “Glad to see you back here, Johnson. Guess you wised up and took our advice.” Johnson was our inside guy at the police station. When he told us that he was going to quit because of the new sheriff, we told him to get back there or start digging your own grave.

“I didn't really have a choice, did I?” he replied. In his hands was a bottle of Jack Daniels. He slipped the bottle through the bars and into my hands. “Something to hold you over.”

“Much appreciated.” I unscrewed the top and took a swig. The alcohol burned so good. “Do they have anything on me, Johnson?”

“Just grasping at straws. The new Sheriff thinks she's hot shit. Has no idea how this town works.”

“Keep me posted and keep the booze flowing.”

Johnson nodded and left. I walked over to the edge of my cell and passed the bottle to Ronnie. “Take a drink, Ronnie, it might calm you down.”

Ronnie grasped the bottle with two hands and tipped it until the liquid poured into his mouth. He wiped his chin with his sleeve and handed the bottle back. “Mayonnaise tastes good.”

I took another sip. “It sure does, Ronnie.”