Chapter 24
24
Robyn
“ H ere we go,” Ellie says as she carries our plates and sets them on the bar in front of us. “Blueberry pancakes for Kyra, and scrambled eggs with turkey bacon and light mozzarella cheese for Momma.”
“Thank you so much,” I reply with a warm smile.
“Thank you!” Kyra says, kiddie cutlery already unfolded as she gets to work.
I can’t help but be impressed as I watch my daughter dig into her stack, while Ellie is kind enough to drizzle some maple syrup on top. “Wow, you’ve got quite the appetite, huh, missy?”
“She needs the energy for later,” Ellie says. “We’re going to play softball in a couple of hours. I roped Paulie and a couple of the old ladies to join us in the back.”
“Ellie says I can pitch!” Kyra exclaims. But that’s all she’ll say on the topic, as she goes right back to her pancakes, one mouthful at a time.
Ellie gives me a worried look. “You doing okay?”
“I’m okay, for the most part, though I can’t thank you enough for keeping an eye on Kyra these days. The guys and I talked about it. The decision made sense.”
“It does make sense. She’s safer here, at least until the whole thing blows over. You won’t have to worry about security at the school and all that stuff. Also, don’t mention it. I told you, but I love spending time with this little munchkin.”
“You’re so good to her, to us,” I say and sigh deeply. My hands move of their own accord. I’m famished after last night’s intense lovemaking. I feel like a new woman. “All of this madness aside, how’s the clubhouse treating you, Ellie?”
She smiles broadly. “Everyone’s being super nice and patient,” she says. “I mean, it’s just newbie mistakes, nothing serious, but I appreciate Shay and Samson so much. I like the job too. I mean, I never imagined I’d say this, but bikers are actually a pretty cool bunch.”
“The Riders are a different breed,” I reply.
“Samson said they weren’t always this way?”
I nod once. “That was true, until Jagger, Diesel, and Knox came back from the service and took over shortly after Jagger’s dad, the former club president, passed away. Knox’s dad stepped aside and let them handle everything. My guess is he was tired of trying to live outside the law and stay alive. Too many of the founding members died way too young.”
“Samson’s one of the oldest members still alive then?”
“He’s a dinosaur. He’s seen where this path that Marlo wants will end—in blood and violence.”
“Let’s just hope the Riders can resist then,” Ellie says. “But I’m curious; are they completely legit? There’s not even a little funny business on the side?”
I shake my head. “They’re clean,” I answer. “Knox, Jagger, and Diesel worked hard to make it happen. I was riding with them, contemplating a prospect position for myself when they were still cleaning house. It took a while, but I know they’re good and honorable people.”
“I believe you,” Ellie says, but there’s a sliver of doubt beneath her tone. It’s subtle, almost unnoticeable. I think nothing of it, because a mind doesn’t change overnight. Ellie will see for herself. She’s already seen enough to challenge her own preconceptions about MCs to begin with.
“Shit,” Samson grumbles as he rushes to the bar.
“Hey, language,” I say, checking to see if Kyra heard him.
“Sorry, but we’ve got trouble coming,” he replies, looking outside.
Ellie and I follow his gaze as do the other members currently having coffee and breakfast in the clubhouse. We all see them coming.
“Oh, no,” I whisper.
A swarm of men and women with cold eyes and hard faces walk toward the clubhouse, each wearing bulletproof vests underneath their DEA windbreakers. My stomach falls as I realize what’s about to happen. Their leader, a tall, bald man with a permanent frown raises a document in front of the door.
“DEA! We have a warrant. I need everybody to stay where they are!” he shouts, then comes in.
Behind him, a flood of DEA agents enter amidst confusion and chaos.
Knox practically flies downstairs. “I need everybody to stay calm and do as they’re told,” he says to his Riders. “Don’t panic. Don’t obstruct the agents. Just let them do their jobs. Our lawyers are on the way.”
“I was upstairs with the guys,” Samson whispers in my ear. “I saw the vans pull up outside. They came out like carrion descending on a carcass.”
“What’s going on?” I ask him.
“The DEA need to do their dance, I guess.”
“It’s going to be okay,” Knox says, coming closer, his hand touching the small of my back. “You’re going to be okay; I promise.”
“Knox—”
I want to say something, but the lead agent reaches us, warrant still up in the air for everyone to see.
“You’re done,” he tells Knox.
“Agent Spalding, cool your jets here. Can’t you see we have a child present?” Knox sternly replies. It’s actually enough to make Spalding take a cautious step back as he stares at my daughter.
Kyra is thoroughly confused and wide-eyed, with smudges of blueberry sauce around her mouth. “Mommy?”
“Shh, it’s okay, baby,” I tell her.
“Who are they?”
“They’re police, honey,” I say.
Samson takes Kyra out of her chair. “Let me take the little monkey upstairs, eh? We’ll finish our breakfast there.”
“Good idea, Samson, thank you,” I reply, unable to move from my barstool.
Ellie is frozen behind the bar—but she doesn’t look scared; she looks more like confused and suspicious as she keeps measuring Agent Spalding from head to toe while the rest of the staff are just as paralyzed.
The club members remain calm, though it’s clear they don’t like the Feds.
“Typical,” one of them grumbles, “coming in here like they own the place.”
“We have a warrant,” an agent shoots back. “Deal with it.”
“Spread out. Check every room,” Agent Spalding instructs them, “every goddamn floor. Leave nothing unchecked, no stone unturned!”
“Do not scare my daughter,” I snap at him, catching a glimpse of Samson and Kyra halfway up the stairs. He’s carrying my daughter with one hand and the breakfast plate with his other, cautiously taking each step. “Be civil,” I add and give Spalding a hard look. “I’m sure your warrant doesn’t include destroying private property.”
“Actually, let me see that,” Knox cuts in and snatches the warrant from Spalding’s hand.
At the same time, Diesel and Jagger come downstairs.
“It’s legit,” Spalding tells Knox. “It’s signed by a judge and everything.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t apply to any of the personal residences such as Robyn’s apartment upstairs,” Knox says and quickly sends a text from his phone. “Just letting Samson know since he’s going up there with Kyra.”
“The warrant applies to the entire property,” Spalding insists.
I can already hear boots thudding all over the place. The ground floor is overly saturated with DEA windbreakers. Doors are opened. Cabinets are pried open. Drawers are damn near shattered as they’re pulled out. They’re not being nice about this.
“The entire commercial property,” Jagger says, checking the warrant as well. “The upstairs apartment has recently been changed to a residential unit. We’ve got the paperwork for that in our office.”
“Your office is ours too,” Spalding replies with a cold smirk.
“Fucking knock yourself out,” Jagger says. “We’re not hiding anything.”
Somebody breaks a door down somewhere in the basement. The thudding and crashing echoes throughout the room, leaving everyone quiet and uneasy. Ellie frowns as she looks at Agent Spalding.
“Can I see your badge, sir?” she asks him.
“Who the hell are you?” he gives her an irritated look.
“A concerned citizen. I’d like to see your credentials. You are obligated by law to produce them.”
Where is this spunk coming from? I’m speechless, stunned. I simply stare and try to make sense of the rapidly unfolding situation as the club’s members are gradually checked for identification by other agents then sent outside while they continue with their search.
“Here,” Spalding scoffs and shows her his badge.
I can see Ellie’s lips moving as she makes a mental note of the badge number. “Thank you,” she says, then moves away from the counter when one agent comes in to search on that side, as well. “Don’t break any glasses,” she tells them. “It’s a health and safety hazard.”
“Relax, I know what I’m doing,” the guy says.
Almost a second later, he knocks over a glass. It crashes onto the floor.
“Hey, careful, guys!” Spalding says to his agents. “We don’t want to end up with a bill for damages, alright? Search every nook and cranny, but let’s leave this place standing once we’re done.” He sets his sights on me next while Diesel checks the warrant. A third pair of eyes can’t hurt. “And who are you?”
“Robyn,” I reply. “Robyn Russo.”
“Russo. Where have I heard that name before?” he mutters, trying to think. My stomach tightens into a heavy lead ball. I hate this part. I absolutely hate this part. “Calvin Russo. Right. You’re his wife, then? Wasn’t he a Rogue Rider?”
“ Ex -wife,” I say. “And yes, he is a former Rogue Rider. He’s no longer affiliated with the club, and I have a restraining order against him for both myself and my daughter.”
He nods slowly. “And did I hear correctly that you live upstairs?”
“That is correct. Like you were just informed, I live in a unit that is now residential,” I say, my tone clipped while my eyes work to register as many details as possible. It’s difficult to focus with all this commotion, but I still take mental notes.
“What is your relationship to the Rogue Riders?” Spalding asks.
“I’m sorry, am I being questioned without a lawyer present?” I reply. “Am I person of interest or what?”
“No, ma’am; I’m just asking.”
“Then it’s none of your goddamn business what my relationship is,” I shoot back.
Knox gives him a vicious look. “I suggest you keep to the scope of your warrant, Agent, otherwise, we’ll be forced to file a complaint against you and the agency. I’m told your superiors no longer take kindly to agents who don’t do everything by the book.”
“Yeah, they’re considered rogues without jurisdiction,” Ellie mutters, still scowling at Spalding. “They don’t even provide them with legal counsel anymore.”
“And how do you know so much about the DEA?” Spalding replies, paying close attention to Ellie for the first time.
She replies with a shrug. “I’m from Detroit, man. I’ve seen how you fellas act over there. I watch the news.”
“Agent Spalding,” one man says as he comes out of the basement.
Oh, no. He seems rather pleased with himself as he holds up a large brown bag.
“Jackpot?” Spalding asks, grinning with excitement.
“What are you talking about?” Jagger asks in sheer confusion.
The agent carries the bag over and spills its contents onto the nearest table. It’s Saran-wrapped bricks of heroin by the looks of it. It’s secured with brown duct tape. My blood runs cold.
“This isn’t ours,” Diesel says, and I believe him. The look on his face tells me in all honesty that he’s never seen that bag before.
“You planted it,” Knox tells Spalding. “We don’t deal drugs. We run a clean business.”
Spalding smirks and points at the cameras mounted on his and his colleague’s vest. “Everything is lawfully recorded on bodycams. Footage will prove that we found this stash in your basement.”
“This is insane! Somebody planted that there,” Jagger exclaims, but the agent pushes him back before he gets too close to Spalding.
In fact, more agents approach us and get between the men and their boss. They can see the tension rising. I can certainly feel the air thickening, the rage and injustice swirling all around us. I don’t understand who would do something like this, but I believe them. I believe Knox, Jagger, and Diesel when they say they had nothing to do with the drugs.
“Agent, there has to be some mistake,” I say.
“Stand aside, miss.” He can’t be bothered with me anymore, not when he hit the mother lode. “Gentlemen, I’m afraid we’ll have to take you in for questioning. You’re all under arrest.”
“You can’t do this!” I snap and try to stop the agents from putting cuffs on the men, but I’m whisked off my feet and pulled away from the kerfuffle.
“I’ll tell Samson what happened,” Ellie says calmly.
Meanwhile, I’m shaking like a leaf, tears pricking my eyes as I watch DEA agents slap cuffs on Jagger, Diesel, and Knox while reading them their rights.
“You have the right to an attorney…”
“Yeah, tell Samson,” Knox replies, ignoring the agents altogether. “He’s in charge until we get out. Have him divert the lawyers to the station.”
“Okay, boss.”
“Hey, Robyn,” Jagger says. “Robyn, look at me.”
I don’t know how, but I manage to look at him, his hands cuffed behind his back. This humiliation will not be forgotten. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll be arraigned and we’ll be out in no time. Stay here, please. Don’t go anywhere today. Stay here, stay with Kyra. We’ve got this.”
“Okay,” I mumble and nod slowly.
The parking lot is riddled with Rogue Riders, and they’re all visibly displeased and downright furious. They keep booing and cussing at the DEA, but Knox shouts at them. “Keep cool!” he tells the Riders. “Do not give them any reason to arrest you! We need you here, not in jail with us!”
“You fucking pricks!” one of the men yells at Spalding as he too leaves the clubhouse.
Frankly, I would love to punch that smug grin off his face, but I can’t.
I’m helpless.
Everything has just gone from bad to worse. Whoever did this, whoever planted the drugs knew what they were doing. They must’ve known a raid was in the works. Someone is working particularly hard to destroy us.