Page 32 of Desperate Justice
“How’s it going, Rafe? Heard about the suspension from Jase.”
“Been better. Looking forward to this, getting out on the road.” Rafe studied the way Sam used his left hand. “Finish with PT?”
Sam flexed his fingers in the leather glove. “Almost as good as new. New physical therapist in Miami is better than the one near my parents’ ranch. Ready to roll.”
Sam had a close encounter with a knife three months ago while serving a warrant. The suspect, wanted on an active felony warrant for a firearm, responded to the knock on his door with a twelve-inch butcher knife. Sam’s fingers paid the price that day, but therapy helped.
The suspect was shot and, after being treated and well enough to be released, went to jail and is now awaiting trial.
Rafe rubbed his neck where the bullet nearly nicked his artery. As vice president of the Justice Riders Motorcycle Club, he recruited other law enforcement bikers needing an escape from the job. Every rider in the Justice Riders was law enforcement, active or otherwise. Most had survived violence on the job. Rafe needed a support system with other brothers in blue who rode and understood his love of bikes and the job, and the trauma that came from surviving extreme violence.
“How many are with us today?” Sam asked.
Rafe consulted his phone. “Nine in our group. You, me, Keith and Deb, Lou and Darla, Casey and two others joined at the last minute. Casey texted a couple of days ago she’s bringing them in, said she would introduce them. Two women named Di and Al.”
“Cops?”
“No, but Casey vouched for them. Plus, this is a different kind of run, every penny for charity, so I said yes.”
Sam grunted, his green gaze alert. “Hope they know how to ride and won’t slow us down. You make contingencies for the newbies?”
Giving a leisurely stretch, Rafe shook his head. “I’m not a babysitter or a damn chaperone. If they can’t keep up, they’re on their own.”
Rafe organized the ride for the Justice Riders and invited no more than ten riders in his group on the way to northern Georgia.
A couple pulled up on their bikes. Keith and Debbie Myers. Keith was a retired sheriff’s deputy and Debbie still worked as an oncology nurse.
He wondered if Debbie knew Allison. Nurses had a tight-knit group much as cops did. Rafe tried not to think of Allison and the hurt look on her face as he’d driven away from her or the way she’d glared at him when he left his grandmother’s hospital room.
The woman was bad news for him. He tended to lose focus when she was near, and during this business with Hernandez, he shouldn’t have lost focus.
Their dog, Comet, rode in a sidecar with Keith. The mongrel terrier had goggles on his face and was securely fastened into the seat by means of a harness. He grinned at Comet. Comet was a rescue the couple had adopted two years ago and enjoyed several adventures riding with them across the country.
Today the couple seemed quiet and even Comet subdued.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, joining them as they parked their bikes. He bent down and scratched Comet’s head. The dog’s tongue lolled out.
“Darla and Lou won’t be joining us.” Keith’s expression tightened. “Lou got hurt last night. Responded to a domestic violence call to save a victim.”
Rafe went still. “How bad is it?”
“He’s alive.”
The terse answer told Rafe everything. He touched his neck again, anger and grief coursing through him. The risks of the job, but damn, it seemed they were losing the war to keep the public safe.
Was it worth it?
He watched Debbie slide off her bike and put her arms around her husband. After twenty-five years on the job, Keith had retired after being shot during a hostage situation. He’d spent four months in ICU and retired when he was released from the hospital.
This was one of the reasons Rafe hesitated in settling down. He had been to too many funerals, seen too many grieving widows.
“Casey canceled, too. She’s not going when her partner is in ICU. ” Debbie wiped at her eyes.
Rafe called Darla, but her phone went to voicemail. He left a message.
Whatever Darla needed, they would provide.
He hung up, wishing he could cancel everything and go to Lou’s side. But Sam watched him, shook his head.
