Page 34 of Brand
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Cami
After Brand and I had been fired upon, something I was still struggling to come to grips with, he’d been taken away in a cop car for some bullshit charges. Okay, so I had no actual proof that they were bullshit, it was more of a feeling I had in my gut. And the look on his face as he sought out me, said it all. This wasn’t him. He wasn’t a drug dealer. And so I thought back to everything that I had witnessed while I’d been working at the shop. Sure enough, there wasn’t a single thing that I found odd or out of place. I would even go as far as to say the business was a legitimate one. I mean, I had been there, I’d been allowed access to everything, and though I hadn’t so much as thought about snooping, I also hadn’t come across anything that made me feel like I needed to do so.
Brand was innocent.
I knew that in my heart.
And I hated that there wasn’t a single thing that I could do to help him. To save him.
The moment they cuffed him and drove him away, I was nothing but a pathetic, rich girl. Exactly what he had thought of me all along.
“You really should head home, Miss Benson. I’m sure your father wouldn’t want you near this. In fact, I’m sure he doesn’t even know that you’re here, huh?” The man in the suit raised his brow at me as if he knew everything.
I gritted my teeth, holding back the words that were scratching at my throat to get out. Something was very off here. I knew it, but I couldn’t put my finger on what.
I knew I couldn’t leave the shop like this. The windows were blown out. Anyone could just walk in and take whatever. I wouldn’t let that happen to Brand. This shop was his everything. It was in his soul and his love. I could tell that from the little time I’d been around him. So, I tried to wave the detective off and waited for an opportunity to sneak off and find a quiet spot to call or text Sketch and Blade. Those were the only numbers I had. I didn’t know Chris’ and I wasn’t sure what he could even do anyway. Sketch was now officially part of the club and I knew he’d have some sort of idea of what to do, or at least come with back up as soon as he got the message.
The detective didn’t seem to want to leave me alone and internally I screamed in frustration.
As I waited for the right moment to present itself, my mind started to freak out at all the cops crawling all over the place. Yes, I’d been in a state of shock, but I didn’t miss what Brand had done with his gun. While I sure as hell started to question things because of that, I wasn’t about to let the cops find anything else to throw at him.
“Um, I need to grab my stuff,” I said meekly, hoping he wouldn’t see right through me.
“Fine,” the detective said with an edge of irritation in his voice.
I slipped off to Blade’s room, cursing him for not having blinds on his window. After a moment of watching to make sure all backs were turned in my direction, I hopped up on the chair and as soon as my fingers touched the cold metal, I yanked it down off the top of the frame. Hopping down as quietly as I could manage with my clumsy and still shaky limbs, I tucked the gun away in the back of the waistband of my pants. I wouldn’t say that I was even remotely comfortable having it there, but there was nothing I could do about it at the moment.
Pressing my luck, I pulled out my phone and sent Sketch the most basic message ever, praying that he would pick up on the unsaid hint that something was wrong.
Shop now!
I hoped he would understand or at least figure out where I needed him. Then I powered down my phone so it wouldn’t make any noise, and if Detective Butthead decided to look at it, maybe he would think my battery had died and leave it at that.
“Find what you were looking for?” the detective asked me, nearly making me jump out of my skin.
“I thought…I thought I left my purse in here, but it must be in the office.” I drew the words out sounding like I was still shaken and confused.
Somehow, I was holding it together better than I would have ever imagined I could. I mean, it wasn’t like I went around thinking about ever being put in a situation like this but I figured I would have been a broken mess on the floor.
“Hurry it up. I’ll have one of my officers drive you home. It isn’t a good idea for you to drive in your state.”
“Yeah—”
Whatever I was going to finish that up with was cut off by the sound of motorcycles drawing closer.
“Fuckin’ hell. How’d they find out?” the detective barked over the noise. His eyes slid back over to me, eyeing me with disdain. Oh well, wasn’t anything he could do about it now. It wasn’t illegal for me to send a text, as long as I wasn’t driving, right? “Clear out. You four stay, and don’t let them in.” He pointed to a group of officers standing near the front.
The motorcycles came to a screeching halt right outside of the shop.
“The fucking shit is going on here?” Sketch said without even sounding intimidated by the men in blue as he stepped up to the pathetic cop barricade. “The fuck happened to the shop?”
They didn’t say anything to him and he looked a second away from punching one of them. A few guys stepped up behind him, they were wearing cuts too. I thought I recognized at least one of them, but the flashing lights were messing with my head. I hadn’t really met many of the club members, and I didn’t even have the first clue as to how many members there were. Some had stopped by the shop and introduced themselves while they were there, but that had been about it.
“Cami?!” Sketch called out as he looked past the cops and into the shop. If I wasn’t mistaken there was a flicker of concern in his tone and a sadness pinched in his brow. “Get the fuck outta my way, dick!” And without touching them, he turned his body and slid between two of the officers. For some reason they let him pass, but he was the only one they let through.
“I’m okay, Sketch. I’m fine.” No, I wasn’t and I was pretty sure that was clear by the fact that I’d tried to be so reassuring.
