Thief: Devil's Own MC (12 page)

“I’m not pleading shit,” I muttered. “Like I said, talk to my lawyer.”

The cop shook his head. “You don’t get it, man,” he said. “I’m trying to help you. Don’t you get that?”

“You’re trying to detain me,” I shot back. “And I’m not telling you anything without a lawyer. End of fucking story.”

The cop whistled through his teeth. “Blake, you gotta learn to stop trying to settle things yourselves. Leave that to the law enforcement! Surely Abel doesn’t have you thinking that you guys can handle things without our help, right?”

I glared at him. If I’d had my gun, I would have tried to shoot him for that remark. I hated the cops around here. We’d always had kind of a special relationship with law enforcement, but ever since the next town’s police department absorbed the county, things had just been off the rails. I knew that Jimmy and Abel were busting their asses trying to make us okay again in the eyes of the law, but in the middle of this territory dispute, it was the last thing that we needed. 

“Blake, I’m gonna give you one more chance to talk before we head downtown,” the cop said softly. “If you have anything you want to share with me that you don’t want getting back to the club, you’d better come out with it now. You know I want to help you. We go way back, don’t we?”

I narrowed my eyes. “We haven’t been in each other’s pockets for a very long time, old man,” I warned. “Don’t even try to act like you’re on our side.” I bit my tongue; it was so tempting to bring up the Aztecs. In the old days, we would have been allowed to defend our turf as we pleased. Everyone in the police department knew that the Aztecs ran crank and other drugs. Drugs were bad for the city, so we were allowed to keep them out. But now, the cops didn’t see it that way. Suddenly it was
their
job to make sure that the Aztecs were gone. I closed my eyes and thumped my head against the back of the cruiser in frustration.

This whole night had been fucked. The cop eyed me in the rearview mirror. “Blake, one last chance,” he repeated. “We’re heading downtown soon. Looks like you gave that son of a bitch quite the bruising,” he added in an amused tone. I eyed him dully as he pointed out the windshield of the cruiser. “We had to call an ambulance for him,” he said. “So you can feel good about your strength, now.”

“Fuck you,” I spat. “Get me my lawyer.”

Chapter Nineteen

I sat in the holding cell for almost five hours before Barney showed up. By the time the cop came to let me out of the pen, the bleeding had stopped but I felt stiff and sore and painful everywhere. I didn’t have a watch or my phone on me, but it seemed like it had to be after midnight.
Fuck
, I thought, remembering that I’d had dinner plans with Sarah. But there was nothing I could do about it now; my one phone call had to be to the club’s lawyer, and if I was lucky, maybe he could post my bail and I’d be out of here in an hour or two.

The cop who released me from the cell was the same one who had driven me to the station. In the nasty fluorescent lighting of the station, he had dark circles under his eyes and I could see his face was getting doughy with middle age.

“Had a chance to think about what you did yet?” He smirked and I shook my head, keeping my lips shut. I knew that I shouldn’t have mouthed off in the car; that was what had earned me the hours alone without a phone call. But all I wanted to do was get my revenge on this fucker and everyone like him who stood in my way. When I thought about how quickly I could end his life, even in the battered condition I was in, my blood starting to pump freely again.

The cop cuffed my hands behind my back and guided me down a dimly lit hallway. It was a place I was very familiar with; every member of the club had been arrested at least once. Most of us twice, or three times. This was my fifth incident in the past couple of years. That number didn’t seem so bad when I thought about everything that had led me to jail, but it didn’t look great, either.

Barney was sitting down at a table with a cup of coffee. Even though it was late, he looked immaculate as always. Devil’s Own had been affiliated with Barney for years now. He was almost like an old friend. He was someone who we always invited to gatherings and clubhouse parties, not because we were afraid of something going wrong, but because we wanted him to know that we trusted him. In the clubhouse of the Devil’s Own, Barney had probably seen things that shocked him. But who knew; maybe not. He had an excellent poker face.

“Blake,” he said, reaching out for my hand. We shook like men and then I sat down. Barney was scrutinizing my face and I could tell from his expression that I must have looked pretty badly off.

“You checkin’ me out?” I laughed. “Trust me, it probably looks worse than it feels.” As I spoke, my throat went dry and I coughed. Specks of blood landed on my hand and I balled up my fist and stuck it in my lap so he wouldn’t see. “I can walk out of here just fine,” I said calmly. “You wanna help me with that?”

Barney licked his lips and leaned back in the chair. “Blake, I have to be honest with you,” he said. “This doesn’t look good. Not for you, not for the MC. Right now they’re looking to pin you down with two charges of assault and one charge of attempted assault, plus a charge of carrying a concealed weapon without a permit.”

I narrowed my eyes. “That’s bullshit,” I said. “I didn’t even
use
my gun, and I do have a permit.”

Barney shook his head. “You have a permit for a legal gun,” he said. “This was a gun with the serial scratched off. That’s different, Blake. That’s a whole new game.”

I bit my lip. Most of the guns used by the club had no serial number; it was one of the ways we took precautionary measures. “Fine,” I spat. “So what’s with the assault? Does it count that they attacked me, and I fought back in self-defense?”

Barney let out a long, slow exhale of breath. “That’s different,” he said quietly. “Even though they were on your property, I’m showing in the police report that you swung first.”

I shook my head. “That’s not true,” I said. “Those lying bastard cops weren’t even there. They ambushed me, and when I went to check the perimeter of the clubhouse, they all came out in a pack.”

Barney looked at me with his eyes narrowed. “Blake, you paralyzed one of those guys,” he said. “The guy who was left on the ground with you, the Aztec. They’re saying that he won’t ever walk again. Do you realize what this means for you and the club?”

Suddenly, I felt like someone was watching me. I turned to the mirrored two-way glass and sneered. “I don’t want those pigs listening, Barney,” I said quietly. “I can’t give them any more ammo against us right now. Can you get me out of here today?”

“Your bail was posted at five hundred thousand,” Barney said in a calm voice. I stared at him, feeling like someone had punched me in the stomach. “If you’re able to tell me where I can obtain that money, we’ll go from there. I have a retainer from you that makes up almost half, and you’d need the other half by the end of the day.”

“Jimmy can help me,” I told him gruffly. “Just call him and tell him how much I still  owe.”

Barney looked at me. He folded his tanned hands on the table and for a moment I was caught staring at his nails. They were trimmed and manicured, just like a woman’s hands would be. “This is more serious, Blake,” he said quietly. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but you’re really going to have to change. The MC is going to have to change, we’re all going to have to work harder here.”

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘we’?” I asked, leaning back in my chair and fixing my eyes on him. “I already
am
working hard. If the cops can’t see that I took those Aztecs out in self-defense, I don’t fucking know what you want me to say.”

Barney didn’t reply. He pressed his lips into a thin line until they were bloodless and white. “This is serious,” he repeated.

A chill of fear ran down my spine. “What, what is it?” Barney didn’t answer. “Fucking tell me, man. Am I paying you or not?”

“I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to help the club,” Barney replied. “My influence isn’t as strong as it used to be around here, don’t you get that? When the cops changed hands, they stopped listening to me, too. I’m in just as much of a hard place as you are, Blake. If you don’t cooperate with the law enforcement, they’re going to do everything they can to destroy you and the rest of Devil’s Own.”

“Fine, they can try,” I said in a cocky voice. As I talked, my swollen jaw began to ache and I winced. The bright lights of the police station had given me a headache hours ago but it was just now starting to become truly unbearable. This was happening much, much too fast, and I had no idea how I was going to find my way out.

I stared at Barney. “Well, what do you have to say?”

He looked at me and sighed. “I’m sorry for letting you down,” he said. “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to get you off the hook right away for this. You might go to trial.”

I laughed. “I’m not going to prison for assault, Barn. That’s community service and a fine, everyone knows that. I didn’t do anything first degree, and I wasn’t charged for firing my gun.”

Barney shook his head again. “You might be wrong about that,” he said. “Haven’t you thought about how this will look to a judge when stacked with your other convictions, Blake? It’s not going to look good,” he finished.

I thought about it. “That’s stupid,” I said slowly. “Those other things have been dealt with. I’ve paid every single fine that I’ve been slapped with. The cops know that we’re clean, for fuck’s sake! And I was beating up a bunch of crank dealers! Who cares? Wouldn’t the cops rather have a fight every now and then instead of a bunch of assholes selling heroin to kids?’

Barney looked at me. “You can say that all you want, Blake, but these cops are tired of having their city ripped up to shreds with violence. I don’t think arguing in favor of the occasional fight is going to do you any favors here.”

I snorted. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You’re telling me that we’re going to get busted for defending our territory? What are we supposed to do if the Aztecs show up again?”

“Call the police,” Barney said, folding his hands in his lap. “Like a normal person would do.”

Rage flared through me and I had to suppress the urge to punch him. “Whatever,” I mumbled. “Just tell me how to get out of this.”

“You may have to plead guilty to second degree assault,” Barney said. He laid a sheaf of papers on the desk in front of me and pushed them towards me. “Take a look at these. I’ve drawn up a statement from you, all you have to do is sign it and then we can get you to trial right away.”

“But what about bail?”

Barney shrugged. “That’s a lot of money, Blake. Wouldn’t you rather just stay in here for the time being? It may look better to the cops, it may help you look like you don’t have as much to prove.”

“That’s retarded,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t believe this. You’re not even going to try to help me? What about the rest of the guys? Won’t Abel and Jimmy be pissed?”

“They don’t want any trouble either,” Barney said. “You know Abel wants things to start winding down, you know how much trouble he’s been having keeping you guys in the black lately.”

“Because those fucking Aztecs are running on our turf,” I snarled. “Don’t you understand what’s going on? The cops are playing us; they want the glory of catching those crank dealing assholes for themselves! They keep trying to provoke the Devil’s into fighting back, which is unfortunately what I just did. But it’s not gonna be like this in the future, Barney. Come on. You
know
things will be different.”

Barney sighed. He looked at me, opened his mouth, and then closed it again. “I want to believe you,” he said slowly. “But times are changing a lot, Blake. You don’t know what you’re dealing with anymore. If you’re not careful, you’re gonna wind up in over your head.”

I snorted. “I don’t think I could possibly be in deeper than my head right now,” I said with a short laugh. “My MC and my lawyer don’t even wanna help me.”

Barney frowned. “What do you mean, the MC doesn’t want to help you? Of course they do. They’re your family, Blake.”

Suddenly, that black feeling I’d had in the parking lot returned. “Something’s wrong,” I said aloud. “I forgot, but I was heading to the clubhouse for a vote. And when I got there, everything was dark. Jimmy, Abel, and Red weren’t anywhere around. There weren’t any lights on. Those Aztecs had cut a hole in the fence; they were waiting for me. I punched up one of their guys last week outside a bar, and they wanted revenge for him.”

“This is exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about,” Barney replied. “If you’re not willing to let us help you, you’re going to wind up in deep over your head, Blake.”

I shook my head. “Are you saying the guys in the MC set me up?”

“No,” Barney said. “I’m not saying that at all. But I am saying that you have to be open to the legal repercussions here. Just because you guys got your way for years at a time doesn’t mean that’s going to keep happening in the future, Blake.”

I scowled. “Post my fucking bail,” I growled. “We’ll talk when I’m out of this hell  hole.”

Barney stared at me. He tried convincing me otherwise, but I wouldn’t say another word until he had sighed and started to clear away the papers. I hadn’t even read my “statement”—I wanted to rip it up right in front of him, but I resisted the urge.

My lids were heavy with sleep with the guard came and dragged me back down the hallway. “You wanna see your friends?” he sneered, pulling me back to the holding cell with the Aztec guys. “They’re eager to see you.”

“Fuck you,” I spat. “I have no words to say to those assholes.”

The guard unlocked the cell door and slid it to the side. As he pulled me back in and unfastened the handcuffs, the Aztec guys started making yipping noises in the backs of their throats. When the guard had left and locked me in the cell, I sat down on the metal bench and let my head flop against the concrete wall. It hurt, but everything in my body hurt.

“Hey, you think this is fun for us?” One of the Aztecs grinned at me. There was dried blood all over his face and his nose was swollen and beginning to bruise purple. I felt satisfaction for having done that to him. “It ain’t fun for us, boy,” he snarled when I didn’t respond. “And we’re going to get you back for that.”

I laughed. “Fuck you,” I said, laying down on the bench and putting my hands behind my head. They instantly ached from the perforated metal. There was no way I could have slept on that bench; between the glaring fluorescent lights and the painful metal, I knew I was in for a rough couple of hours.