Page 51 of Consequences

“I’ll open the door and wait out here while you do your computer stuff. How long do you think it’ll take you?”

“Depends on his system, but I don’t think…Wait!”

The moment Beckett pushes the door open, lights and sirens blare around them, blinding them and threatening to add deafen them.

Covering his ears, Brock hurries downstairs with Beckett hot on his heels. The window they snuck in through remains open, but every spotlight on the outside of the house shines brightly, giving no areas of darkness for them to take cover in.

“Now what?” Brock shouts at Beckett.

He scans the room and clenches his teeth. “Motherfucker knew we were coming. There are bars over every window and door except this one. He’s forcing us where he wants us.”

Brock hadn’t noticed the windows and doors until now thanks to the blaring alarm. “What for? Does he have a machine gun trained to shoot moving targets?”

“I have no idea. Who would’ve thought that motherfucker would have an alarm on his office door?”

“Me!”

Waving him off, Beckett dives out the window, and Brock has the choice of following or risk losing his hearing. They race to the gate, and Becket turns. “We gotta head the other way. Cops are coming from the front.”

“Like he doesn’t have cameras that already caught our faces,” he mutters.

The gate doesn’t open, and Brock knew something wasn’t right. That double click meant to lock them in.

“Fuck,” he growls and tosses his pack over the fence. “We gotta hop it.”

“It’s a nine-foot fence. You were gonna toss me over, remember?”

“I’ll jump and throw a rope over for you to climb up. I was kidding before. Thought you just didn’t know how the latch worked.”

I’m smart enough to hack into computers, but you thought I was too stupid to figure out a fucking gate latch? Fuck off.

He climbs over the fence, and as soon as he lands with a thud on the other side, the alarm stops. The lights stay on, but the gate clicks.

“Beckett? What the hell happened?”

No response. Brock opens the gate and lifts his hands to find the entire GBPD waiting for him on the other side with guns aimed.

“Turn around and get on your knees. Now!”

He shoots Beckett a death glare but does as he’s told. It’s not the first time he’s been told to assume the position, and it likelywon’t be the last. Placing his hands on his head, he realizes Beckett watches him and mirrors his movements.

This asshole has never been arrested before. Not on US soil, I’m guessing, at least.

“What are you doing in this house?” a familiar voice asks, but Brock can’t see her to know exactly who she is.

“We want to talk to our lawyer. We’ll remain silent.”

“Cuff them.”

The cold metal closes over his wrists, finding the spot between his jacket and gloves, and he’s lifted to stand. That’s when he sees her. Alex McKenzie. She’s not an ally to the club, per se, but she’s more like Grayson Tate was before he was kicked off the force.

They haven’t saved her life, so she owes them nothing. She’s older than he is, but not by much, and she knows exactly who he is. But her question still catches him off guard when she asks, “Seriously, Brock, what the fuck were you thinking?”

Not anger. Not annoyance. Not frustration. Concern. Concern in the eyes of the officer arresting him does not bode well. Yes, this is bad. This is very, very bad.

“Lily Hankinson,” he says as a male cop he’s never seen before pushes him towards the squad car. “I’m sure you have her number on file.”

“You’re both under arrest for breaking and entering. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…”

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