Page 23 of Iron Hearts

“Yeah,” I said, hugging myself. “Anyway, we can keep that just between us?” I asked hopefully.

“Afraid not,” baldy-locks said. “You’re a witness.”

“Shit.” I sighed. “Okay, well…fuck,my mom is going to kill me.”

“I can’t say about your mom, but back to this… do you think you might be able to pick the guy with the gun out of a lineup?”

“Um, I don’t know. I could try?”

“Okay, here’s my card. Detectives will probably be by tomorrow, and we’d like to have you come down to the station and go over all this again. Have you look at some photographs and see if you can identify anyone. Would that be alright with you?” he asked.

I didn’t know what else to say except, “Sure, yeah… okay.”

I took the card and gave them my information – phone number, mailing address, email address, and sometimes that would work for me.

“We’re very sorry you had to experience what you did tonight,” the other cop said, running a hand back through his light brown hair, his light brown eyes looking me over as I huddled on my front step uncomfortably.

“Hazards of working a biker bar, I guess. You know, I’ve been there going on three years, and this is the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Might want to look into another line of work,” he said, and I nodded.

“Might,” I said. “But the pay is some of the best around here, and I can’t beat the tips. Still, we’ll see how much they’re going to be willing to fork over by way of a raise to keep me… becausethat? I deserve a raise.”

“You’re a tough girl, Rarity,” the first cop said, and I smiled.

“Thanks,” I said.

CHAPTERELEVEN

Striker…

I heard most, if notall,of what she told the cops out of the cracked bedroom window. I’d cracked it carefully and as quietly as possible to hear what I could of their conversation. I had to say – Rarity did me another solid, you know, aside from keeping my ass from getting shot. She kept me hidden, made up some bullshit on the fly about me bailing out of her Jeep around the corner at the first stoplight.

I could deal with that. It was smart.

You did a Royal Bastard a solid, let alone the few that she’d already done me, and you had a friend for life.

My phone buzzed as she came back in the front door, and I answered.

“Yeah?”

“It’s me,” Renegade said.

“You at the jail?” I asked.

“Lawyers on their way?” he asked by way of confirmation.

“Yeah, should be there any minute,” I told him.

“Good. They ain’t got shit on us, but you know this is liable to be an all-night thing.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” I told him. “I’ll be there first thing with transport.”

“They’re impounding the bikes,” he said.

“Figured that,” I told him.

“Where you at?” he demanded.

---