Pee Wee’s Possession (Bastard Saints MC: St. Louis, MO #3)

Chapter One

McKenna

“How are you holding up, Kenny?”

That was the twenty-six million dollar question. I was a little bit all over the place. Nervous, excited, scared.

“You there, babe?” my bestie asked, her voice coming through the speakers in my car.

“Yeah, sorry,” I shook my head. “I’m fine.” It was a lie. I wasn’t fine. Not at all. What I was, was freaking the fuck out because there was a lot riding on today.

Memo, the club’s secretary and lawyer, had been combing through my brother’s case file, looking for anything that we might be able to use to get him out, and I was on my way to his office for an update.

A big part of my nerves was because Memo hadn’t even wanted to help me.

In fact, when Pee Wee asked him if he would help me out, the grouchy giant said no.

Which made me cry. A lot. Right there in the middle of the clubhouse in front of everyone.

I was so damn embarrassed because I wasn’t a crier. I hated crying. Nothing pissed me off more than crying, because I wasn’t a weak bitch. But, at that moment, I couldn’t help it.

Pee Wee had given me an inkling of hope that his brother would help me navigate the complexity of my brother’s case, and with one word from Memo, that hope was obliterated.

Cue the tears.

Lots of tears.

Like, a whole bunch of tears. And boo-hooing. I was a messy, snotty, running mascara mess.

At the sight of my breakdown, a look of panic crossed the big guy’s face. He’d looked to Pee Wee in a plea for my man to make it stop, but the floodgates were open, and there was no hope of them closing.

Apparently, the big grouch’s kryptonite was a crying woman.

Who knew?

That was, until Memo heaved a heavy sigh and grumbled an annoyed, “Fine.” Followed up with him stressing that he would only be able to help me in his spare time, something that he claimed he didn’t have much of.

That was fine by me. I would gratefully take whatever he was offering.

“He’s going to have good news for you.”

Squeezing the steering wheel, I nodded. “Yep. He’s going to have good news and then…” I pursed my lips. “Then I’m not sure what the next step is, but I’ll figure it out.” Hopefully with Memo’s help, but that was a mountain to climb later.

“Exactly!” Demi agreed.

Exactly.

“I gotta go, babe. I’m here,” I said as Heaven’s Door came into view.

“Call me the second you leave.”

I grinned. “I will.”

Disconnecting the call, I pulled around to the back of the parking lot. It was barely after one in the afternoon, but there were already a few cars in the lot.

Who the heck went to a strip club in the middle of the day? I mean, it was good for the club but seriously, didn’t anyone work anymore?

Cutting the engine, I pulled my keys out of the ignition, grabbed my bag and practically jumped out of my car, slamming the door behind me.

I sucked in a deep breath of humid air, trying to calm myself down.

Memo might not have anything new to tell me.

That would suck. I’d probably cry again, and Memo would kick me out on my ass.

Exhaling slowly, I headed across the lot toward the exterior staircase at the back of the building. The wooden steps led up to Memo’s new office space above the Bastard Saints’ latest business venture.

I didn’t know much about the Saints MC, but according to Pee Wee they had chapters all over the US, and the Bastard Saints were one of them.

“Here goes nothing,” I mumbled as I took the stairs two at a time, reminding myself to keep my expectations in check.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I paused for a second to catch my breath, then pressed the intercom button.

“What?” Memo’s gruff voice crackled through the speaker.

I grinned. He was such a growly grizzly bear.

The first time I met him, he was bitching about having to take his cut off for court.

Something about judges not looking fairly at his clients because of his affiliation with the club.

Not fair, but as I was quickly learning, that was all part of the game.

And if I were going to be a lawyer someday, I needed to learn to play it too.

“Hello?” he barked when I didn’t reply fast enough.

I snickered at his impatience and pressed the button again. “It’s me.”

“Me who?” He grumbled.

“McKenna. We have an appointment today, remember?” I glanced down at my watch, seeing I was about a half hour early. “I’m early.”

When the mechanical click sounded signaling that the door had been unlocked, I pushed it open and stepped inside, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the dim interior. The reception area was completely bare. No chair, no desk, not even a fake plant.

Memo’s head poked out from a doorway, and he motioned for me to come in. “In here.”

I walked toward him, glancing around at the empty space. “You need a receptionist.”

“Tell me about it.” He retreated back into his office. “Not having one is slowing shit down.” He glanced over his shoulder. “You want the job?”

I laughed, shaking my head as I followed him into his office. “Pee Wee would be lost without me.”

“I know, that’s why I think you’d be perfect here.” Memo sat behind his desk, which was covered in tall stacks of files and law books. “You could get all this shit organized the way you did for the Underground.”

A rush of warmth spread through my belly at his praise.

I didn’t realize anyone besides Pee Wee had noticed the systems I’d put in place.

“I can’t abandon Pee Wee, but I could help you out when I’m not in class or at the Underground,” I offered.

I could probably fit it in a few days a week after class.

Plus, it would give me some hands-on experience in a law office—experience that I desperately needed.

Memo nodded. “I’ll gladly take you up on that offer, darlin’.” He motioned to the chair across from his desk as he opened the thick file in front of him.

My stomach knotted as I sat down. “Did you find anything?”

He nodded, a wicked grin breaking out across his face.

“Yep. The cops who arrested your brother didn’t have a warrant or probable cause.

They had an anonymous tip.” He made finger quotes when he said anonymous tip.

“Tips are not cause to kick in doors. Long story short, anything they found in that apartment was poisonous fruit.”

My heart started hammering against my ribcage. This was exactly what I’d been hoping for; a break that would get Jaxon another hearing.

“I remember Professor Drummond’s lecture about how a judge’s signature on a warrant is the single most important protection the Fourth Amendment gives you.

It’s the line between lawful authority and government overreach.

When law enforcement fails to obtain a warrant or obtains one improperly, everything found becomes poisonous fruit. ”

Memo arched a dark brow. “Someone’s been paying attention in class.”

I grinned. “Hell yeah, I have. I want to learn everything I can to help my brother.”

With a look of approval, he flipped a couple more pages in the file. “I’ve filed an appeal.”

“You… you have?” I covered my mouth as tears started to well up in my eyes.

Memo looked stricken by my tears, and I quickly dabbed them away with my palm and muttered, “Sorry.”

“Jesus.” He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I didn’t expect you to fucking cry. How the fuck am I going to give you a job when you graduate if you’re always fucking crying?”

I laughed through the tears. “You want to give me a job? ”

“Fuck no. Not if you’re going to do all that shit.” He waved a hand at me.

“I’m sorry!” I laughed, no longer feeling like I could cry. “I’m fucking thrilled. I’ve been fighting for this for eight years.” I took a deep breath. “So what happens now?”

He grumbled under his breath that’s why he was single, because bitches were always crying .

Rolling my eyes, I ignored him calling me a bitch. He was lucky I’d spent a year around his club, and knew that was just something they all said and they didn’t mean anything derogatory by it, or I’d bite his head off.

“Judge Harlow is reviewing it. She’s fair—doesn’t automatically side with the prosecution like some of these assholes do.”

I nodded, trying to process what this meant. “How long before we know something?”

“Hard to say. Could be weeks, could be months.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “But McKenna, you need to understand something. Even if the judge grants the appeal and throws out the evidence, the prosecution can still retry him.”

I frowned. “Without their evidence? What would they use?”

“Witness testimony, for one. And they could try to get the evidence admitted through other means. It’s not a guarantee he walks.”

My stomach dropped. I knew this wouldn’t be simple, but hearing it laid out so plainly felt like a punch to the gut. “But it’s a start,” I said, more to convince myself than anything.

“It’s a damn good start,” Memo agreed. “And I’m not done digging. The way his public defender handled the case was criminally incompetent. I’m building a case on that, too.”

I smiled. “I can’t thank you enough for this, Memo. Seriously.”

He waved off my gratitude. “You can thank me by helping me get this office organized.”

“Deal.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out to see a text from Pee Wee asking where I was. Shit. I’d told him I’d be at the Underground by two to help with inventory.

“I’ve gotta go.” I stood, grabbing my bag. “Pee Wee needs me at the Arena.”

Memo nodded. “I’ll call you when I hear anything.”

“Actually...” I paused at the door. “Would it be okay if I came by tomorrow after class? I’ll start on getting things organized, but I also want to go through the case files myself. Maybe I’ll catch something useful.”

Memo raised an eyebrow. “You know your law shit pretty well for a first-year student.”

“Second year,” I corrected him. “And I’ve been studying this case since I was thirteen.”

“Fair enough.” He pushed a key across the desk. “This’ll get you in the side door. Just don’t touch anything that isn’t Jaxon’s file.”

I snatched up the key, clutching it like it was made of gold. “I won’t. Thank you, Memo.”

As I headed down the stairs, I couldn’t stop the smile spreading across my face. For the first time in eight years, I felt like there was hope for Jaxon.

I needed to call Angel right away and tell her the news. My sister was going to flip her shit when she heard this.

Sliding back into my Camaro, I tossed my bag onto the passenger seat and dug my phone out. Angel’s name was the third name on my recent calls list—I’d called her yesterday to check on baby Matthew.

She picked up on the second ring. “Hey, Kenny.”

“Angel, you’re not gonna believe this,” I said, unable to keep the excitement from my voice. “Memo found something in Jaxon’s case. The cops didn’t have a warrant when they arrested him. ”

“Wait, what?” Angel’s voice rose. “Are you serious right now?”

“Dead fucking serious. Memo’s already filed an appeal.” I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel. “He says it could take time but this is huge, Angel. This could be what gets him out.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, and for a moment I wondered if we got disconnected.

“Angel? You there?”

“Yeah,” she said finally, her voice strangely flat. “That’s... That’s great news, Kenny.”

I frowned. This wasn’t the reaction I expected. “You don’t sound very happy.”

“No, I am. It’s just...” She sighed. “Sweetie, have you ever considered that maybe Jaxon did what they say he did?”

My grip tightened on the phone. “What the fuck, Angel? Of course he didn’t.” My brother wasn’t a cop killer.

“You were thirteen when it happened. You idolized him.”

“So did you,” I snapped.

“Yeah, and I was nineteen, old enough to see things more clearly.” Her voice softened. “Look, I’m not saying he did it. I’m just saying we need to be prepared for the possibility that?— “

“That what? That our brother murdered a cop in cold blood? Fuck that, Angel.” I started the car and revved the engine. “Jaxon’s innocent. And I’m going to prove it.”

“Kenna—“

“I’ve gotta go. Pee Wee’s waiting for me.” I hung up before she could say anything else that was going to piss me off and tossed my phone onto the passenger seat.

Fucking Angel. How could she even think that? Jaxon was our brother. He practically raised me after our dad bailed.

I pulled out of the parking lot, anger and determination warring inside me.

Angel was wrong, and I was going to prove it.