Page 30 of Colt

Shep shrugged. “What if I could help?”

Or what if he ran back to the FBI and alerted the dirty ones we were onto them?

I had to give him something. If we were gonna be colleagues, I’d need to show some trust. “I was tryin’ to look up a license plate. Couldn’t find it on the regular databases, so the Feds were the next logical step. The way the license number’s been set out reminds me of government plates.”

“Give it to me,” he ordered. “I’ll help.”

I studied Shep’s face for any duplicity.

If the vehicle was FBI, it could point to dirty agents. Did I really want to let Shepherd in on it? What if he was involved, and this meeting was a ploy to dig up what the Demons knew?

Jesus. I hated all this espionage bullshit. It made me feel like I was out on a limb. Had enough of it in the Army. Hell, it was the main reason I left. Spying was a complete head-fuck.

My mistrust must’ve been written all over my face because Shep took one look at me and leaned forward. “You think we’ve got dirty agents,” he bit out, more as a statement than a question.

“Maybe.” I blew out a hard breath. “I’m not sure. Sometimes, nothing’s as it seems. But what I know indicates we’ve gotta big trafficking ring affecting Southern Wyoming, and a vehicle I can’t trace was involved.”

Shep scraped a hand down his face. “If the ring’s as big as you say, someone high up must be turning a blind eye, or we would’ve taken them down. Or maybe we’re already working on it. Give me the plate details, let me run it, and I’ll see what I can find.”

I sat back, noting the glimmer in Shep’s eyes. He seemed desperate for information. I knew him well enough to understand his curiosity. Smashing a ring like this would be a feather in his cap, and taking down dirty agents may even land him a big promotion.

It hit me that Shep was right when he said I had leverage. The FBI had marked me, and I knew I’d have to leave my home and MC family, but maybe I could do it on my terms.

“I’ll give you the license number, but I need your word you’ll keep me in the loop. I wanna protect the club; information equals power,” I said thickly. The thought of leaving the only place I’d ever known loyalty made me wanna puke. But at least I could go out giving my boys what they needed.

“Done,” he agreed.

“Second,” I croaked, throat filling with emotion. “I want six months. Between you fuckers and a rival club, the Demons’ backs are against the wall. They need me.”

“I dunno, Colt,” Shep protested nervously. “The higher-ups want you now. I had to fight to get you three months.”

I leaned forward, almost baring my teeth. “Get it agreed, or I swear on everythin’ holy, I’ll walk out of here and disappear for good, and your fuckin’ agency will never get me.”

Shepherd held up his cell. “I’ll try. I’ll even let you listen, asshole, so when my superior tells me I’m canned, and he’s sending a fuckin’ SWAT team down to pull your ass in, you’ll know exactly what I put on the goddamned line for you.”

I sat back, folding my arms across my chest. “Make the fuckin’ call.”

He jerked a nod, unlocking the cell before he stabbed a few buttons and held it to his ear. After a minute, he barked, “Boss. It’s Shepherd. I’m with Van Der Cleeve. He’s agreed, but there are conditions.”

Over the next few minutes, I listened as Shep bartered and pleaded with his boss—and I guessed my soon-to-be boss too.

A sick feeling slid through me when it hit me: I wasn’t a Speed Demon anymore. The powerful rush of emotion almost made me keel over, and my chest felt as if it was on fire.

The last twelve years of my life were my happiest, but it would all end soon.

Freya’s face flashed behind my eyes, and my heart clenched.

What the fuck was I meant to do without my princess? Who’d give me shit when I acted like a dick? Who’d demand I got some shut-eye when I’d stayed awake for three days chasing a lead. Who’d challenge me, if not her? Who’d care for me unconditionally?

If I refused the FBI, they’d do something to make me change my mind, like pinning Robbie’s death on the club. It was a given that Prez would take the heat off Bowie. I couldn’t watch my brothers slowly be picked off one by one, especially when I could stop it.

The FBI, CIA, and the Secret Service had objectives and did their best to attain them. I understood it. I’d lived it in the military and knew how it worked. In some ways, the club was the same. Sacrifice one to save the many.

Who knew one day I’d be the sacrificial lamb. But if I did leave the club, at least they’d survive.

My thoughts went to Freya again, and I immediately felt the gut punch. Then, the clouds inside my head parted, and a ray of light shone through.

I wouldn’t be a Demon anymore.

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