Page 91 of Ruthless Reign

The temptation was too great to resist. For months, I’d been holding the club together by my fingernails, barely sleeping, worrying I wasn’t doing the right things. The only person who had visitation rights was my sister, and she’d been tasked with relaying everything he said like some twisted game of telephone. It was one thing for her to say he approved; it was another to hear it from the man himself.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, twisting with guilt at the thoughts spiraling around in my head. If there was one thing we outlaws agreed on, it was that cops were bastards and untrustworthy. All cops. It didn’t matter what sweet lies dripped from their slimy lips or how much they promised in return.Making a deal with them was worse than signing your life away to the devil. Snitches routinely got killed in the pen for this very thing. But if I could get my revenge and my father out of jail, what wouldn’t I give for that? Was my guilt, my shame, worth it?

“From what I understand, you’re married to a Caputi,” she said. “Not only that, Gabriella has all but disappeared and her nephew, your brother-in-law, is now the head boss of the Caputi mafia.”

I crossed my arms. “It sounds like you have your asset. What do you need me for?”

“Leverage,” she said. “I need confirmation that what I suspect is true. Cold, hard evidence. Otherwise, I can’t do anything about it.”

“And you thinkIcan get that for you?”

“I think your wife can,” she said. “Your brother-in-law.”

“Convincing them to work with the pigs is never going to happen,” I said. “No matter what you think you can do.”

“C’mon, Montgomery,” she said with a smirk. “I heard you were the brains of this whole operation. Surely, you’re more resourceful than that.”

I raised an eyebrow and pursed my lips.

“Find out who the Caputis were working with in the Feds, and I’ll get your dad and Aris Washington a lower sentence.”

“And if I can’t?” I didn’t like being backed into a corner, but perhaps Jordan wasn’t as terrible as the rest of the PD. Perhaps she reallycouldhelp my dad.

“No deal,” she said. “I believe you when you say someone is doing something shady on the inside, but unless I can prove it, I can’t do anything about it.”

I took a deep inhale and nodded. “Fine. I’ll do my best, but I’m not telling you anything more than that.”

“Fine,” she said, her eyes lighting up at my very reluctant acceptance.

“Why are you doing all this, anyway?” I said. “You’ve got no business helping me or Crow. So what if someone in the PD is dirty? It wouldn’t be the first time.”

She shifted her shoulders uncomfortably and looked down at the ground, crossing her arms in defense.

“I don’t like the thought of someone sullying the badge,” she said. “Among other things.”

The blush on her cheeks gave her away. I’d always been good at reading people, and even if Detective Jordan could maintain that stoic skepticism most detectives had beaten into them, she wasn’t perfect. Something more was going on, something she didn’t want me to know, something she was perhaps ashamed of.

My father would never admit it, but he’d always had a soft spot for her. I didn’t know what it was, but I married the enemy, so who the fuck was I to judge? Did she return the sentiment?

She handed me a business card with a handwritten number on the back.

“This is my burner phone,” she said. “I suggest you get one, too. Text me the number when you have it. We’ll go from there.”

She turned to head back toward her cruiser.

“Jordan,” I called out. She stopped and faced me. “Whatever your reasons, if this gets me killed, my wife will come after you.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” She nodded, hopped in her Crown Vic, and started the engine.

I tried to swallow down the rising tide of panic in my gut. My father wouldn’t like this. My club wouldn’t like it. Nor would my wife or new family. But like Jordan said, I’d always been resourceful. I could figure out who ratted us out, slip the info to her, and kill them before anyone knew it was me. And as for the pig who turned traitor, well, I’d let Jordan handle her own.

I put the card back in my pocket and headed toward the garage.

“What’d she want?” KC asked.

A moment passed where I debated not telling Thor and KC. Maybe it might be better to keep it a secret. My club would gut me alive if they found out I was working with the PD. But…I wasn’t, was I? Not really. I was working with Jordan, and I had a gut feeling she wouldn’t let her slip show. She’d keep this under wraps until she could take down the dirty fucker herself.

“We’ve got a problem,” I said. Then, I told them everything, trusting they would keep it between us three.

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