CHAPTER SIX
Akio
HE WAS tapping his foot. He knew it. He couldn’t stop it. If he tried, his anxiety would only get worse without that outlet. He’d never been in an interrogation room before. The walls were bare and maybe the paint had been white at some point but it sure wasn’t anymore. The chair he sat on was more comfortable than he’d expected. His hands weren’t cuffed nor attached to the table. It told him they either didn’t see him as a threat, or they wanted him to think they didn’t. He wasn’t sure which.
They had taken his prints when he came in and he dreaded what might show up. He knew his brother had done something to protect him, he just didn’t know how far he’d gone. He’d gotten a new identity. Diesel’s surname. His brother and his partner had shown him more love and compassion in the past four years than he’d had his whole life.
He heard a click and snapped his head toward the door. A man wearing a suit stepped into the room. It was a cheap suit. At least compared to the ones his father had worn. With good reason. Being a cop didn’t pay very well. At least not according to his brother-in-law who used to be one.
“Hello, Akio. I’m Detective Holland.”
Akio gave him a wary look as Detective Holland pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. He had a manilla folder with him that he put on the table. He didn’t open it.
“It’s Ah-kee-oh,” he mumbled.
“Sure.”
He didn’t know why it annoyed him. Though maybe it was because he’d done nothing wrong and had been arrested and was in an interrogation room?
“Savage Rebels,” Holland said, brow cocked expectantly at Akio. “You’re not a member, are you?”
He shook his head.
“I don’t even know what this is about? I was just playing pool and having a beer with my friend.”
“Oh? What’s the name of this friend ?”
“Why?” he asked hesitantly, unsure where Holland was going with this.
“Well, you’ll want your information to be cooperated, don’t you?”
He didn’t want Maggie to get in trouble, too. He hadn’t seen her get arrested. In fact, he hadn’t seen her at all when the cops raided the bar. They’d dragged everyone they handcuffed outside to sit on the curb. Maggie hadn’t been there. Everyone who’d been arrested were bikers. Except him.
“Why? Like you said; I’m not a Savage Rebel. I only got my driver’s license last year and I have no idea how to drive a motorcycle.”
“Here’s the thing, Akio,” Holland said, mispronouncing his name again, “I think you’re lying.”
Akio leaned back, confusion making him blink at Holland.
“W-what?”
“You’re not just some innocent civilian bystander, are you?”
“I don’t understand?”
Holland was trying to hide his sneer as he opened his folder and pulled out a picture. He turned it around and showed it to Akio.
It had been taken outside the bar. He was shaking Ryder’s hand. He was wearing the same clothes in the picture as he was now, so it had to have been from tonight.
Holland thought he was in bed with the Rebels. Figuratively, of course.
That was a whole ton of trouble he didn’t need. Neither did his family. He knew the Rebels were into illegal shit, otherwise, they wouldn’t have been raided and arrested tonight. They wouldn’t have that one-percenter patch on their cuts.
The last thing he needed was the cops looking into who he was and tracking down Diesel and Chris. Once the cops made the connection between him and the Disciples, it was game over.
“Tell me again how you don’t know the Savage Rebels?”
Akio looked at Holland with creased brows. He hadn’t said that. The man was trying to put words in his mouth. He was probably trying to see if he could catch him in a lie so he could pressure him into taking a deal to flip on the Rebels. The only problem with that was that he hadn’t done anything, nor did he know anything about the Rebels’ business.
He was already under arrest which meant he had rights.
“I would like my phone call now.”
He couldn’t call his brother. He couldn’t put this on him. He should’ve stayed away from the bar. He’d fucked up and he knew Diesel would forgive him in a heartbeat and he didn’t want that. He wanted to fix this on his own. As much as he could.
He was lucky he’d memorized the number. He doubted the cops would let him look up the number to the nearest FBI field office.