Page 85 of Colt

“I’ve thought about it,” I said, trying to hint at what I knew without giving it away. “Every agency from the local PDs to the President’s Office is filled with people with an agenda. Believe me, boys; when it comes to extreme wealth, the rich are so fuckin’ terrified of losin’ everythin’, they’d sell their sons and daughters to stay on top. The social elite is a club that’s impossible to infiltrate but also impossible to turn your back on if you’re one of ‘em.”

Prez rested his elbows on the table and held his head in his hands. “This could be bad. If the FBI’s involved, we’ve gotta watch our backs, not only with the Sinners, but with the law too.”

Cash ran a hand through his hair. “They could storm this place and get rid of us with no comeback what so—fuckin’—ever.”

An uneasy feeling washed over me.

How could I try and alleviate their worry? Nobody would storm the club, but if I gave the game away and told them too much, the FBI wouldn’t hesitate to pull every man, woman, and child in on trumped-up charges. The agency had spent years and a whack of money on their investigation. There was no way they’d let anyone compromise it.

The Demons were a well-respected club, but even if every ally stepped in, they’d still be no match for the FBI. I’d have to be very fucking careful and set some things in place during the rest of my time here if I was going to protect them how I wanted to.

If I let the cat out of the bag and the Demons stepped in, they’d get annihilated.

“Let’s all calm our tits for a minute,” Abe said, leaning forward. “Why are we jumping to the goddamned conclusion that the authorities are dirty? A much more likely scenario is that they could be investigatin’ the trafficking ring.”

“I dunno,” Atlas rumbled. “Don’t fuckin’ trust any pigs. Don’t care what fancy letters they go by.”

Prez pursed his lips, shaking his head at the SAA. “The only reason you don’t trust ‘em is ‘cause you’re always breakin’ the goddamned law and gettin’ fines.”

Atlas curled his lip. “I’m a biker. Live by my own fuckin’ laws. I do what I want, when I want.”

“Yeah, until Sophie tells you to do somethin’ else,” Cash said under his breath.

“Dunno how you fuckin’ dare,” Atlas muttered. “You’re so pussy whipped you walk around in a daze half the damned time.”

Cash gestured to his chest. “I gotta fuckin’ newborn. Sleep’s just a memory these days. Of course, I’m fuckin’ dazed. Give Soph a few months to pop, and you won’t be such a judgy cunt.”

Just then, Wilder opened his eyes, scrunched his face up, and let out a loud cry.

Cash cursed. “You’ve woke the baby up, ya fuckin’ prick.” He shot Atlas a withering look. “Can’t wait until Sophie delivers. I’m gonna hire a marchin’ band to play show tunes outside your house day and night. See how you fuckin’ like it.” He laid Wilder gently on the thick wooden table, went into a large blue diaper bag, and grabbed a bottle before scooping his son up again and gently pushing the nipple in his mouth. “There ya go, Son,” he crooned. “Ignore Uncle Fat Ass. He’s simple, but he’s harmless.”

Wilder stared up at his dad knowingly, sucking gently before kicking his legs like a frog while letting out a huge fart.

Chuckles rose through the room.

My lips twisted. I’d never worked out what it was about expelling shitty-smelling air from one’s intestine that made grown men revert to teenagers.

These particular assholes didn’t disappoint.

“That’s my boy,” Prez said proudly.

Cash cocked an eyebrow. “If he’s followed through, you can change his ass. Sometimes, it’s like he’s got rats livin’ up there.” He wrinkled his nose. “He gets it from his mother’s side.”

“Your ass was worse. Many a time, I told your ma to take ya to the doctor.” Prez’s mouth pursed in apparent disgust. “It wasn’t fuckin’ normal.”

My mouth hitched for the first time in weeks as laughter filled the air.

Prez’s stare fell on me. “Any other business?”

Silence.

Eyes still on me, Dagger picked up the gavel and banged it into the sound block. “Fuck off, everybody except Colt and Abe.”

My stomach gave a jerk as question after question stabbed through my mind.

Did I fuck up? Did Prez suspect something? Could he tell I’d lied to him? Did he suspect something with me or Freya?

It was obvious I hadn’t been myself since I got back.

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