Page 18 of Surrender
“It was all a show,” I said, turning to the asshole himself as he shuffled his papers and slotted them cleanly back into his little briefcase. “We supposed to be shaking in our boots or something?”
Carrington grinned, once again tugging at his cuffs before grabbing his case and walking toward us. “I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. My name is Parker Carrington. I’m the new county prosecutor.” He held his hand out like he was expecting someone to shake it and congratulate him. When no one did, he let it fall by his side, though the rejection only seemed to embolden him even more. “I know yourclubseemed to have some kind of agreement or understanding with the previous prosecutor, but you know, the people have spoken, and they are screaming out for someone who is hard on crime.”
The previous county prosecutor was an old guy called Monty Gray. The club didn’t have any kind of deal with him, but he had family in our part of the city, and he knew how our presence alone kept the hard drugs and the crazy that came with them out of the area.
So if he could look past a few things here and there, he did.
He wasn’t blind to it.
He was simply realistic.
This guy, Carrington, was something else entirely.
“Bet you’re a mama’s boy, right?” I said, watching him carefully. “She’s always told you how amazing you are, howyou’re so much better than everyone else. So handsome, so strong.” I reached out to adjust his tie like I was sure a mother would do, but before I could touch it, he slapped my hand away and stepped forward, the confident smile melting away.
“Jealous? Because I have a parent who actually loves me instead of an addict who beats on me night after night,” he snapped back, then quickly turned his attention to Hawk. “Or who is willing to sacrifice my life in the name of some phony god in the clouds?”
I’d hit a nerve.
And he’d let slip just how closely he was watching the club.
“Do you make a point of reading all your constituents’ files, Mr. Carrington?” Hawk questioned, his concerned face morphing into a smirk that was a little more at ease than it had been moments ago. He saw what I saw—a crack—and cracks meant a weakness in a perfectly polished façade. “Or are we justreally special?”
Carrington took a step back, rolling his shoulders and running his fingers through his hair, pulling the couple of pieces that had fallen loose back into that perfectly slicked style. He had to straighten what little had come undone to try and hide the simple slipup he’d just made.
But it was too late.
We’d seen it.
“I’m sure Mommy loves you,” I coddled with a nod. “I’m sure you’re not constantly fighting to impress her by taking on somebig, bad bikersso she can gloat to her country club friends about it.”
The boys all chuckled softly, but this time, Carrington didn’t take the bait.
He forced a cold smile, despite the bead of sweat dripping down his brow. “You boys can act all threatening and intimidating, but I prefer to win my fights with intelligence,” heannounced, tapping at his temple. “You’re welcome to try and match it, but just know, I’ll be seeing every single one of you soon, you can be sure of that.” With a nod of finality, he turned and walked down the short aisle and out the large double doors, his fancy fucking shoes clapping against the wooden floors.
Whip sighed heavily and fell back into his chair. “Well, that’s going to make things interesting, right?”
“Yeah,” Hawk muttered, already pulling his cell from his pocket. “I’m gonna let Bishop know to call church, ’cause this motherfucker is on a mission, and we need to have our shit together if we’re gonna survive.”
Dane nodded, his eyes still on the open doorway. “This was a warning. He knew he was never going to win, but he wanted you guys to panic. Next time, he’ll come with something heavier, something he’s sure he can sell, and someone’s going to be in fucking trouble if you don’t watch out.”
We already knew this wasn’t about justice.
But whether there was something personal or political, or maybe both, it didn’t matter.
It wasn’t about to go away any time soon.
So we needed to be ready.
Chapter Eight
DARCY
“Wow,” Lucy commented as I pushed open the door to my old family home. She leaned in, craning her head to take a look around. “It’s kind of like stepping back into the past. It even smells the same.”
I held my breath as I stepped into the foyer, the floorboards creaking under my feet. “You thought our house always smelled like mildew and childhood trauma? Great,” I said with a sarcastic snort. “That’s just the vibe I was hoping to relive.”
When we’d pulled up outside, my heart had leaped up into my throat. This place held a piece of my life and my heart in its walls, and while I was sure it had seen many more families through its time, there was something about it that felt like home.
