Page 7 of Savage Temptation
I push past a black door and head for another at the end of a short hallway.
A couple of steps before I enter my private office, I come to a full stop. “I’ve already talked to the detectives handling the case. Youcan go home, Lafleur.” I leave all emotion out of my tone. I don’t want to give her anything to latch onto or try to read into.
Her laugh is anything but humorous. More like a flamethrower to my forced calm. A few more minutes and it will burn through my patience and then I’ll have another problem on my hands.
“I know, Malone. That’s not why I’m here.”
I turn, cranking a brow up in confusion to find a superior look turning her pretty features into something that resembles a scowl.
“Then you're here just to bust my balls? You’re so bored you drove all the way here to have some kicks and giggles at my expense before you amble on and pester some other poor soul? I don’t buy it,” I say idly. Out of habit I reach for my pack of smokes in my front pocket only to find it empty. One helluva time to finally quit.
“If by ‘poor soul’ you mean the next criminal on my list who deserves to be behind bars, then yeah. Busted.”
She pops a hip out and crosses her arms. Frankly, if I gave a damn or had fewer years on the job, I might find her intimidating. Right now, she’s just a pain in my ass and keeping me from getting the answers I’m after.
“So, the word on the street is that your crew doesn’t push drugs.”
I throw an elbow up on a file cabinet parked next to the lounge’s rear exit and mirror her calm stance. “And? This is a fact. But you already know this.”
“Hm-mm,” she hums. “Is it though? Maybe that’s changed and you’re only now just getting caught with your pants down. We have three dead college kids on your property, under yourwatch. You tell me how it looks. How did this happen on Savage territory?”
She’s fishing, but I’m not in the mood to play games tonight. “I wish I knew. I’m going to find out. But that’s not your concern. You should be more worried about over reaching your limits. This isn’t your case.”
She shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. I’m watching. I have all the time in the world for you and your motley crew of tatted fuck-ups to screw up somewhere. When you do…”
I tsk, and shake my head. “... I know. You’ll be there to make sure the prison is built on top of my grave. Got it. Such a judgmental tone.” I’m not surprised by her irritation given her partner was kidnapped by a gang of bikers three years ago and they never found the body. I feel for her. But that doesn’t mean she gets to take her prejudice out on me or my brothers.
“Reserved for you, my friend. One biker is no different from another. You thrive on crime and chaos.”
The ice in her tone is lethal.
I push off the file cabinet and press a hand over my heart, looking nonplussed. “You can’t paint everyone with the same brush, Detective.” I make sure she has her eyes locked on mine when I say my next piece. “Not everyone who wears a cut and belongs to a brotherhood is bad. Your partner knew that. He knew the men he went after were the shittiest of men. I told him. It’s not my fault he thought he was invincible.”
“I hear a lot of words but no denial of what I said. You are all criminals at heart.”
She’s not all that wrong. Being candid right now won’t help my case, though.
“You came all the way out here for nothing.” I reach for the door on the other side of the file cabinet and turn the knob. “You can exit this way through the side alley, or go back through the front. Doesn’t matter to me, but I have business that needs my attention.”
After the detective goes, I can make a quick exit. Cipher has contacts that go far and wide. But so do I. I need answers before Lafleur digs them up on her own.
“The truth will come out, Malone. It always does.”
“Please don’t feel you have to come back.” Knob in hand, I give her a parting smile before swinging the metal door open.
She stares at me like she wants to tell me off with the force of a thousand blood-thirsty ancestors, but her eyes swing to face the door instead.
So does mine.
My whole body clenches and I feel the detective do the same beside me. Through the darkness on the other side of the door, steps a woman half my size, or smaller. Black smudges of mascara stain the undersides of both eyes and fear dilates her pupils until it consumes the vast majority of her irises. Tattered feathers and enough sequins to drown a man make up the little clothing covering a body made to make a man weak in the knees.
The savage part of me that makes me a good fit for the Savage Reign brothers roars to life and I want to kill the unlucky bastard who has made this woman so scared her lips tremble.
“Are you in trouble?” The detective goes for her weapon and pushes herself out the door. “Who’s after you?”
I hear the detective but my world narrows to only a set of fearful green eyes as they peer up at me.
“Jagger.”
