Chapter 6 Abbey #2
The Sadists start sidestepping to spread out, but Ringo keeps me close, refusing to budge when I go to drop his hand. I cast a worried glance around, noticing a small group of bystanders across the road, phones raised, recording everything.
Are they allowed to do that?
“You hard of hearing?” the oldest officer snarls, and I stiffen at his abrupt tone, dragging my attention back to the cops, all staring at my husband.
“I heard you perfectly,” Ringo snaps back.
“Then why are you two still standing together?” The younger officer steps forward, puffing out his chest like he’s someone to be feared.
He’s barely a man given his scrawny physique.
“This is my wife,” Ringo says calmly. “Before I step away from her, I want assurances that you’ll be respectful when you search her.”
Every officer in front of us raises his brow at the request, but it’s the white blond officer, who looks like he uses a tub of gel in his hair every day, who responds.
“Not surprising that you know what comes next. So, you should also know what happens if you refuse.”
A low rumble vibrates in the back of Ringo’s throat as he glares at the cocky officer, so I tug on his arm.
“It’s okay,” I tell him, prying my hand from his and stepping sideways. “It’ll be fine.”
Reluctantly, he lets me move away, and I lift my chin and meet the cocky blond officer’s gaze.
“Since there’s no female officer present, I know any search of me will be professional and respectful since I’m sure you don’t want the news catching wind of anything less.”
I nod my head towards the bystanders across the street, and a couple of the officers glance that way, while the Southern Sadists chuckle quietly along the line.
The officer’s jaw ticks, and when he moves to step towards me, the older officer presses a hand to his chest and redirects him to the far end of the line.
Relief washes through me when a different officer steps forward to frisk me. I hold my arms out willingly, allowing him to search me for weapons, but the only thing he finds is my phone, which he places on the grass a few metres away.
Thank goodness I didn’t bring my knife with me inside the house. It’s actually tucked into the pocket of my leather jacket, draped over the seat of Ringo’s motorbike, so unless they insist on searching the bikes too, I should be okay.
I watch Ringo from the corner of my eye, sure he’s doing the same with me, and once the weapons search is done, the officers move on to names and identification.
Mine is tucked into my phone case, but I don’t want them to see it. I don’t want them to know who I am, because the name they’ll find is Abbey Delany, and I’m not her anymore.
“Got any ID on you?” the oldest officer asks me, and I shake my head, even as my eyes betray me and flick to my phone lying on the grass.
His eyes narrow, following my movement, and land on my phone.
Shit, Abbey! You just gave yourself away!
Bloody hell. I’ll never survive the underworld Ringo lives in if I can so easily give myself away like that.
With another narrowed look in my direction, the officer moves to my phone, bending to pick it up, and pops the phone case free, finding exactly what I was desperate to keep hidden.
“Shit,” I whisper.
“It’s okay, Angel,” Ringo rasps quietly, and I hold his gaze for a beat as the officer studies my identification.
He can see the worry in my eyes, but there isn’t a trace of it in his. He’s cool and unbothered, his lips kicking up beneath his beard.
God. This man really does have a way of making me feel better… Until his expression shifts, a faint frown tugging his brows as his gaze flicks down the line.
I snap my attention in the same direction and spot the officer holding my identification, showing it to a couple of the other officers, and then, one by one, their gazes shift to me.
My heart sinks to the pit of my gut as they step back a little, murmuring to each other as they pass my licence between them.
Shit. Shit. Shit. I already know where this is going.
The police have been looking for Abbey Delany. A minor. Said to have been in trouble.
Six weary glances sweep over each one of the Southern Sadists before landing back on me, and the oldest officer approaches, sweeping his hand towards himself.
“It’s okay, Abbey. Just step over here. You’re safe now.”
Panic snaps my attention to Ringo for support to find him glaring.
“She’s perfectly fucking safe with me.”
“You! Shut the fuck up!” the officer barks, pointing sternly at my husband, before glancing back at me. “Abbey. Your family has been concerned.”
I scoff, his comment doing nothing but lighting a raging inferno under my skin.
“You should take another look at my licence,” I snap. “I’m not a child, Officer. I’m nineteen, and married to Cameron Musgrove.” I jerk my thumb in Ringo’s direction.
“We know this must be a fake licence,” he counters. “You’re only seventeen, Miss Delany. There was an Amber Alert.”
I roll my eyes. “I am nineteen, and that Amber Alert was a false report made by an abusive mother. So unless you have a reason to arrest me, Officer, I’ll take that back and be on my way.”
The group of officers fall silent, frowns tugging at their brows, while further up the line where JD and Murf stand, I catch flashes of teeth behind beards and barely contained grins.
The screech of another car skidding to a stop draws everyone’s attention, and a familiar face steps out of the patrol car.
“Sorry, we got held up at the hospital,” Officer Zimora says to his fellow cops, as another officer unfolds himself from the vehicle and joins him. “We’ve got this. It’s okay.”
The officers all frown again, but the way they respond to Jason makes it clear he outranks them, and after a brief exchange they move further away to have a quiet discussion.
“You know,” Smitty mutters from a few men up the line, leaning forward so I can see him. “I was a little worried for the pig’s life for a second there. Doesn’t he know what you can do with a helmet?”
I jerk back like he just slapped me, just as Ringo curses.
“Fuck’s sake, Nate. Not the fucking time for jokes.”
“Who the fuck is joking?” Smitty fires back. “Didn’t you see that guy’s skull she caved in with her—”
I’m about to fly off the handle at Smitty when Jason Zimora steps up to us, saving his life.
“Sorry about that,” Jason apologises, which is when I notice the six officers leaving. “I’m spread thin today.”
My brows shoot up.
I knew he was on their payroll or something. Maybe more on the Marx payroll, but is he really saving us? A known outlaw bikie club?
“How’s your first week on the job?” JD asks, and when I glance his way, I see he’s addressing the other officer that arrived with Jason.
“Interesting,” the man replies. “Who knew Timber Valley had this much crime?”
JD chuckles. “And who knew you’d be working with us? Hope you’ve got the balls to do what’s expected.”
“Dallas is new but loyal to what we are working towards,” Jason interjects, his gaze flicking to the other patrol cars as they begin to back away. “He knows who his real boss is.”
As the patrol cars drive off, the line of Southern Sadists breaks apart, dispersing as if they’ve been given silent permission to leave.
“Anything from the hospital?” Ringo asks, his big hand sliding over the back of my hip, drawing me into his side, and just like that, my panic ebbs, and I melt into him.
“Unfortunately, no,” Jason sighs, resting his hands on his hips. “But we did find a nearby house that caught the gunmen on their security cameras when they cut through his property.”
Jason nods to the other officer, Dallas, who pulls out his phone and holds it up showing two guys frozen on the screen.
“They ditched their masks while cutting through the property, but their faces haven’t come up in our facial recognition yet.”
I lean in as Dallas angles the screen towards us, and even though it clearly shows their faces, I don’t recognise them.
“Merc’s,” Ringo mutters, and Smitty nods in agreement.
“Looks like it,” Smitty says with a shrug. “Seems like someone is willing to do whatever it takes to get the same information we’re after.”
I stiffen at his words, the image of Bobbi cradled in Elizabeth’s arms flashing through my mind.
Why do they want her? This can’t still be about the cult… can it?
“How does anyone else know?” I squeak, my emotions getting the better of me. “I know it sounds crazy, after everything he’s done, but I believed Daniel when he said no one else knew.”
Ringo and JD share a look before Ringo’s gaze finds mine.
“I don’t know, Angel, but it seems like someone does.”
My heart slams into my ribs, and I stagger back a step, that familiar dread wrapping tight around my chest with the same fear that haunted me while I carried Bobbi inside me.
They’re never going to stop.
It feels like they are always one step ahead of us, which means they might get to Bobbi before we do… and that thought alone is unbearable.
If those vile monsters get their hands on my little girl, I won’t survive it.
I just won’t.
“Angel.” The deep gravel of Ringo’s voice drags me out of my spiralling, and I glance up to find him holding up his phone to me.
Frowning, it takes me a moment to realise what I’m seeing on the screen.
“Is that?”
“Yep,” Ringo gruffs. “Apparently she turned up ten minutes ago, stabbed two Marx men when they tried to stop her, and promised worse if anyone interrupts her.”
My eyes widen as my gaze flicks from the screen, up to Ringo.
“She stabbed her own men?”
“She did. And apparently, not even her boyfriend can get close to her.”
My mouth falls open in shock.
“Is she going to kill Daniel?”
“I don’t know, Angel. But we need to get back there right fucking now.”