19. Crow
CHAPTER 19
CROW
Addison might not want to admit it, but she’s starting to like me.
“How’d you get in?”
I stand from the plush velvet sofa and turn to face Addison. I’ve been waiting for her for several hours, and seeing her immediately puts me at ease.
“Do you really wanna know?” I counter.
She slings her purse onto a hook and walks toward me. “Yeah.”
I reach into my pocket and pull out a key. “Made a copy while you were still at the clubhouse.”
“I should have you arrested!”
“But you won’t.” I tilt my head. “Will you, Ace?”
She rolls her eyes at me and stomps to the kitchen. “No, I won’t. Not for this anyway.” After taking two beers out of the fridge, she faces me. “Want one?”
“Sure.”
I close the distance between us and take a bottle. We both lean against the counter and silently sip our brews. She’s the first to break.
“Is Sunny okay?”
“She’s fine. Back at the clubhouse being catered to like a damn princess.”
Addison tips her head back to look me in the eyes. “You really care about her, don’t you?”
“‘Course I do. She’s family.”
“Right.”
“Did the interview satisfy your cop friends?”
“Yeah. She identified Kenny, and a judge issued a warrant for his arrest. Gary and his partner are out now trying to find him.”
“Gary?”
“Oh, sorry. Um, he’s another detective.” She smiles fondly. “He and my dad are really close. I called him Uncle Gary growing up. He’s a good man.”
“He’s a cop.”
She huffs out a humorless laugh. “Not all cops are bad, Crow. Ghost isn’t.”
“Ghost isn’t a cop anymore.”
“But he was. And as an officer of the law, I can tell you, being a cop is more than just a profession. He might not wear a badge, but what made him a cop is still there.”
“Careful, Ace. That sounds an awful lot like admiration.”
Addison sets her beer down and faces me. “I guess it is.”
“I think you’re coming around to the dark side,” I tease.
“No.” She shakes her head. “I’m coming around to the right side.”
“What’s the difference?” I ask, genuinely interested in her answer.
“Right and wrong aren’t necessarily dark and light, white and black, good or bad.” Her expression turns thoughtful. “The color gray exists for a reason.”
“In other words, you don’t hate us anymore.”
“I didn’t say that.”
I grin. “Didn’t have to.”
She pushes off the counter and returns to the living room to sit on the couch. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“How do you know when the bad thing you’re doing is the right thing?”
My answer is important to her. That much is clear by the curiosity in her eyes. I move to sit on the coffee table in front of her and lean forward.
“If I’m doing whatever I’m doing for love, family, loyalty, or protection, then I can live with the ends justifying the means,” I answer honestly. “I learned a long time ago that what other people think of me doesn’t matter. People are going to judge me whether I’m in leather and jeans or a three-piece suit. That’s just fact.” I tilt my head and study her. “Why’d you become a cop?”
“Because I wanted to follow in my dad’s footsteps. I wanted to make the world a better place. Why’d you want to be a biker?”
“Same reasons, for the most part.”
“For the most part?”
“Being a biker is a way of life. Riding is freedom. On the back of a motorcycle is the one place I can be one hundred percent me. It’s… home.”
“I get that,” she says. “That’s how I feel about being on the police force.”
The more I’m around this woman, the more I feel like she could be home too. And that’s unnerving.
Needing to change the subject, I stand and cross my arms over my chest.
“So, what happens when Kenny’s arrested?”
“He’ll go to jail until his trial, unless the judge sets bail. In the meantime, I’ll keep working to figure out who’s behind his actions. He wasn’t lying about getting paid to attack Sunny. His bank accounts reflect a pretty hefty payment. But he refused to tell us who hired him.”
“I’ll touch base with my contact and see if they can dig up anything.”
“Who is your contact?”
I shake my head. “Nope. The less you know, the better.”
“Club business?”
“You got it.”
Addison smirks. “I want you to know I’m going to keep investigating the murders that the club is being framed for. I’ll get to the truth.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“Wouldn’t have agreed to let you leave if I thought otherwise.”
“Right, well…” She looks over her shoulder toward the door. “I really should get some sleep. It’s been a long few days.”
“Then I’ll leave you to it.” I walk to the door and open it, but before I leave, I look back at her. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Surprisingly, I think I’d like that.”
When I step onto her porch, it’s with a grin. Addison might not want to admit it, but she’s starting to like me. Which is good because I really like her.
More than I should.
As I walk to my Harley, I take my cell out of my cut and pull up a family contact to send a text.
Me: We need to talk
Oinker: Yeah, we do