Page 29 of Colt

“They won’t find anythin’.” I grinned. “That sick fuck put a gun to his head ‘cause he knew he’d get locked up as a pedophile. He couldn’t take it.”

Shepherd's eyes met mine. “Colt. They want you, and they’ll do anything to get you. Evidence can always be found, whether it’s legitimate or not.”

My gut sank.

When I walked away from the military twelve years before, I knew this could happen eventually, but I’d gotten complacent. Though, honestly, they would’ve caught up with me regardless. They’d even take down the club to get to me.

I was fucked.

“I helped you once,” I croaked. “Now help me. Is there any way out?”

“I’ve tried,” he assured me. “I held them off for as long as I could, but when you went on your little hacking spree, you signed your own warrant.”

I scrubbed a hand over my face. “How long have I got?”

“I’d say three months.”

A cold tremor ran through my body.

There was so much work to do, the club was at war, they needed me. “Can you get me six if I cooperate?”

“I’ll try.” He leaned forward, arms to the table. “It’s not as bad as you think. You don’t have to give up your club brothers, Colt, not entirely. What you do on your own time is up to you, as long as it’s not illegal.”

The thought of Atlas working alongside an FBI agent almost made me laugh out loud. Not long ago, some of the older members dealt in guns, women, and drugs for the club. There was no way I could stay in the fold.

I rubbed my forehead, trying to think. “Nah. It’s an all-or-nothing deal. I can’t be a Demon and a Fed. Even if Prez had a brain fart and allowed it, the members wouldn’t work alongside me.”

“What if having a foot in both worlds meant you could help them?” he asked.

I barked a laugh. “The club would take the help but still wouldn’t accept me.”

“Sorry, Colt.” Shep grimaced. “If it’s any consolation, I met a good woman when I joined. She was a witness I questioned for my first case. Ended up married with two kids. Joining the FBI doesn’t mean life ends.”

My mouth twisted. “Life as I know it will end. And you know me, I’m not the marrying type.”

Shepherd shook his head, smiling. “You’re crazy. I’ve seen that piece you’ve got in your bed. Freya, daughter of John Stone. Graduated with one of the top med school scores in the country. Has her pick of internships. Brains and beauty. You’re a bit old for her, but still, you’d be crazy not to lock her down.”

My pulse quickened. “What do you know about Freya?”

He smirked. “Been tailing you for a week. Saw you take her home from the bar the other night.”

My hackles raised. “You keep her out of it, asshole.”

“I guess that depends on you, Colt,” Shep muttered. “The higher-ups would have no problem wrecking her career before it’s even begun.”

I tamped down the burn rising through my chest and studied Shep closely to determine how far I could push. “Tell me about the FBI. What would I even fuckin’ do there?”

He let out a snort. “You’ll get the pick of the jobs. The Assistant Director’s been watching you for years. Maybe you should think about what you want and tell them. When they get you, they’ll wanna keep you happy, Colt. Remember, you’ve also got some leverage. You need to tell them what you expect.”

As much as the thought of leaving the club behind made me wanna curl up and weep, I couldn’t ignore the spark of interest that ignited in my gut.

I’d have the authority to do things I’d only been able to dream of at the club. I loved my life, but I had to admit, being a Speed Demon didn’t challenge me.

Being a biker wasn’t in my blood. As much as I liked the guys, I wasn’t a team player; I was a loner. I’d never played well with others; even now, I had my own office and holed up there unless I had Church or info to relay. I’d stayed at the club for John, and the love and respect I had for the patch and the brotherhood, but that didn’t automatically make me a good brother or a decent biker.

“Why did you hack into our database, anyway?” Shep asked. “You must’ve known there was a chance of getting caught. Didn’t you know they were onto you? What was important enough to risk your freedom for? You’ve avoided getting caught for years, and now you’re blatantly sticking your nose into places that have gotten you in a world of shit.”

I sat back in my chair, eyebrow cocked in challenge. “Why the fuck would I tell you that?”

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