Chapter 2
Fox
My phone vibrates in my pants pocket, and I ignore it for the meantime while I watch Nitro read the riot act to some punks on skateboards.
That’s how I know I’m old. Youths piss me off.
If I’m honest, they’re way better behaved than I was at the same age, but that doesn’t matter.
They were fucking around somewhere they shouldnt have been, and now my hot as fuck boyfriend gets to stand there looking all sexy with his badge and gun.
His inky black hair catches the light and his golden tan almost fucking glistens under the street lights.
He’s the only person I know who can pull off Deputy khaki. Well, other than me of course.
My phone vibrates again and I let out a sigh, leaning to the side to slide it out of my pocket.
I get Moss needs help flushing out all the corruption in the department, but do we have to do this street beat shit whilst doing it?
I swear if he’s on our asses to get back there for more bullshit jobs I may just have to quit.
Waking up the screen I hit the call button as soon as I see the message.
“Yo!”
“Chewy, what’s going on?”
“Did you read the messages?” she asks, suspicion lacing her voice.
“Yes?”
“Ugh. How am I meant to work at my peak when no one reads my breakdowns?”
I decide to appeal to her science brain and recite the shit my mom used to say every time my dad would get in my face about my grades and learning. “But Chewy, I’m not good at linguistic learning. I need you to tell me to help it go in.”
She’s silent over the line and I try hard not to giggle. “Fine. Travis Hitchens’ wife and kid just turned up at the emergency room. Judging by the injuries reported they’ve either been in a car accident or -”
“Or he fucking messed with them before he turned up to shift tonight.” I run a hand down my face. “Lemme guess, the FBI busted the trade?”
“Two hours ago,”
“Wait, I thought the trade was happening tonight?”
“Fox, it’s 9pm now. Two hours ago was most definitely ‘tonight’. He started his shift at 8pm-”
“So he had a full hour to get his anger out before his shift started,” I answer, my gut dropping.
“Yup. So, we need you to get there before any of his buddies do and scare the shit outta her to keep her quiet.”
“Did Switch call you?” I ask, brows pinched.
“I have more ways than Switch to keep me up to date and I’ll never tell you what they are.” She tries to laugh mysteriously but it comes across as a creepy cackle instead before she hangs up without saying goodbye.
Shaking my head I put my phone back in my pocket and flick the lights once, gaining Nitro’s attention, his dark gaze meeting mine through the windshield.
I raise my hand, and circle it, letting him know we gotta get outta here.
He nods, flips his notepad shut and says something to the kids before striding back to the driver’s side, yanking the door open.
“Please tell me we weren’t nearly as fucking dumb as they are, Jesus Christ!” he growls as I laugh at him. “Where to?”
“The emergency room. Dipshit Hitchens’ wife and kid have turned up there.”
Nitro’s dark gaze meets mine, jaw clenching before he nods once, and heads in that direction.
“Seeing as he clocked in just before us, I’m guessing the wife waited until he was out of the house.”
I nod. Fuck I can’t wait until we can get these guys.
From my estimation, there are at least three of them that were on the old Sheriff’s payroll.
With how shady Hitchens acts I know they’re probably on some other fucker’s payroll even though we cleaned out the two cartels who attacked us.
The problem is, when they’re in the business of smuggling and trading, it takes a lot more than cleaning out two cartels to make a difference.
Get rid of one and two more pop up to take their place.
Either that or Hitchens and his boys have found a way to run shit on their own.
I’d like to think they’re too stupid, but dumb fucks can often make good criminals, they have no fear and don’t think too far ahead.
Unfortunately, when cornered they tend to do even dumber shit which often leads to a lot of casualties.
Nitro pulls the cruiser into the parking lot, and we get out, leaving it unlocked and parked on an angle.
I mean, what are they gonna do? Ticket the cops?
Don’t think so. I follow him through the automatic doors, his firm ass making those department issue pants work hard.
I stare at his ass as it wanders, not even looking at the blonde at the front desk.
“Ma’am, we’re looking for Mrs Hitchens. Can you tell us what room she’s in?” I turn at the last minute, hitting her with a panty dropping smile which as per usual, doesn’t disappoint.
The blonde blushes sweetly, stammering a little as she gives me the cubicle number and points me in the direction.
I head that way, tipping my head at Nitro, getting him to follow me for a change.
I roll my lips between my teeth, trying not to laugh but fuck if it’s not true.
Ever since we landed in the same fire team he’s always been the one in the lead.
Halfway through our tour I realized it’s because he thought so fucking little of himself that he was willing to risk his life every damn time we went in, rather than someone with a family or something to live for.
Needless to say I beat his ass for that attitude and I’d like to think I’ve made a difference to how he sees himself.
I know it screwed him up when I took that bullet.
He still beats himself up about it, but all he needs to know is that I’m here and he’s not going anywhere without me.
Stopping outside the cubicle I gently call out, “Mrs Hitchens? It’s Rose Grove PD, is it OK if we come in and speak with you?”
A shaky voice agrees and I step inside, Nitro following close behind.
I stop abruptly noticing Switch sitting there with a little copper haired girl on his lap.
I raise a brow at my brother and he shakes his head slightly.
Nodding I turn to Mrs Hitchens, trying hard not to cringe at the state of the woman.
She’s covered in bruises. Some of them fresh, bright purple against her pale skin.
Others are the sickly yellow color that shows they’re old and healing.
She’s painfully thin and tiny. Lots of the MC ol ladies are on the shorter side, but this woman takes the cake.
She wouldn’t even be five feet tall and 100 pounds soaking wet.
“Mrs Hitchens, we are in no way connected to your husband or any of his friends within the department, so please, believe me when I say that we are here to help you,” Nitro begins.
Her eyes dart to Switch’s, looking for permission. He nods gently, cradling the little girl in his arms.
“OK, sweetheart, start from the beginning.”
Nitro
I storm through the clubhouse doors and search for Niko.
Seeing as we don’t quite have a bar yet he spends most of his time lurking in the kitchen waiting to pass us beer through the hatch.
Seeing as it’s only nine in the morning and we’ve only just gotten off shift, it makes sense he’s not ready and waiting for the early Church Marx called.
I help myself to a beer, tossing one in Fox’s direction then Switch’s before we make our way into Church. Switch is almost vibrating with fury at what Hitchens’ wife told us in the safety of the hospital cubicle. We need to do something and fast, because this shit just can’t keep going on.
Marx takes one look at the three of us as we take our seats and bangs his fist on the wall behind him. Ever since our original clubhouse was destroyed along with our meat tenderizer gavel, Marx has been making use of his massive fist.
“Looks like our peacetime is coming to an end. Deputies, what have you got?” Pres smirks as the brothers give us all shit.
One look from Dr. Switch has them settling down fast.
“We got at least three on the take. Don’t know who is pulling the strings or how they’re involved with the shit coming through the ports.
” Fox starts. “Deputy Hitchens seems to be the ring leader. Top deputy dawg, the other two doing whatever he tells them to do. Like all pieces of shit, he has a wife and daughter he likes to terrorize.”
“He’s a fucking monster,” Switch growls, earning him a side eye from me. He’s not often emotional, which I guess is something he’s had to train himself to be given his job.
“We’re collecting intel. It’s slow going but we get enough shit on him he’ll be going down,” I add. “Or we could speed it up and just kill the fucker.”
Marx smirks, before turning to Wire. “What do we have on the wife? Could she be involved?” Switch growls under his breath. Interesting.
“She’s clean. Comes from old Texas oil money.
Religious background but parents kicked her out when she fell pregnant to Travis Hitchens.
He married her and she miscarried under suspicious circumstances.
” Eyes are all darting around the table.
I’ve seen how he treats his wife. I imagine Travis Hitchens is the mysterious circumstance.
“She had seven miscarriages before she had a healthy baby girl.”
“Kit,” Switch offers.
“Yes. She’s five years old and home schooled by her mother from what I can tell.”
“To isolate them, most likely,” Rhodie grunts.
Angry curses travel around the table before Marx slams his fist against the wall again. “Switch, what are the chances of you seeing the wife and kid again?” Switch’s eyes narrow. “Look, if she’s in a bad position, she’ll need someone she can go to for help.”
“And someone she can pass information to,” Rhodie adds.
Switch is already shaking his head, “No fucking way. There is no fucking way I’m putting that woman in more danger. I can get her to trust me enough to help her out of her shit situation, but if we ask her to feed us info, she’s a dead woman.”
“She was damn near close tonight,” Fox says, looking around at our brothers.
Curses of “motherfucker” go around the table.
“Do you think she’ll trust you enough to help her get out of there before she shares anything she may know?” Gus asks, brows furrowed.
Marx runs a hand down his beard, “What are you thinking?”
“The Keep.”
The Keep has become a haven of sorts since Dex was sent to Louisiana to start the DRMC new chapter. With the Landry brothers, Flack, TumTum, Sniper and Chef in tow, we now have an ally three hours over state lines and also the perfect place to hide an abused wife and her daughter.
“It’ll have to be a well planned extraction,” Rhodie starts, “she’ll need to start putting together a go bag, her documents and shit.”
“All while not letting the fucker know something is up,” Rider adds.
“It’s also the most dangerous fucking time for a woman in her situation,” I add, blowing out a breath. I’ve seen what happens when a piece of shit realizes he’s about to lose his punching bag.
Switch nods solemnly. He sees women desperate to leave in the emergency room on a weekly basis. We all know what’s at stake.
“We can’t leave her in that home; sooner or later, he’s going to go too far,” I murmur, the only thing keeping me from losing my shit is Fox’s gaze on mine. I know what that feels like too, after watching the same shit happen in my childhood home.
“I’ll see what I can do. I have her coming in for follow up appointments when I’m filling in at the medical center in town. Figured it was the best way to keep an eye on her,” Switch concedes.
“Good work, brother,” Marx says, dipping his chin. “Well, we may not be smooth sailing at the moment, but this is nothing we can’t deal with. Fox and Nitro, keep on poking around at the PD and giving street punks warnings-”
“Don’t forget the little ole grannies and their lost kitties,” Rider adds with a grin.
“That’s the fire service, you dumbass,” Tank mutters under his breath earning an outraged gasp from Rider.
“Imma dismiss Church before you fuckers start fighting,” Marx growls before banging his fist on the wall. “Get outta here!”
Rider jumps up so fast he knocks his chair over, giggling as Tank chases him from the room.
“I really wish he would get his ass locked down by a spitfire of a woman who won’t put up with his shit,” Marx mutters.
“Don’t worry Pres, I bet when he falls, it’ll be like a ton of bricks.” Tav says, slapping a hand on Marx’s shoulder.
“I can’t fucking wait. I have bets on it,” Jules says mysteriously before he slips out of the room.
Of course he does. I don’t blame him. Rider, Switch and Mad Dog are the only single brothers.
Bets have been flying around for the past few weeks, ever since Judge was taken off the market.
In some ways I’m fucking happy that Fox and I don’t have to put up with that shit, but at the same time, it still feels like there is something, or someone, missing.
“Thank fuck we don’t have to put up with that shit anymore.” Fox mutters, resting his hand on my hip. I huff and lean into him, his lean body taking some of my weight. “When we find our woman it will be without all this drama.”
“You think we’ll find her?” I ask, turning to look at him.
He searches my face, and I know what he’s looking for. “Babe, she’s definitely out there, and like me she won’t give a shit where you came from. She’ll love you, just like I do.”
“Yeah, but if we find someone who loves you and she doesn’t want me-”
He stops me with his lips on mine, hard, stealing my breath before pulling away. “None of that. You are worthy of more than just my love, Zane. Don’t you fucking forget that.”
My throat clogs as it always does when he calls me by my name. “I won’t,” I whisper.
“Good, otherwise I’ll tan your ass,” his hard gaze turns salacious, “in fact, I think I might anyway. Get that ass upstairs.”
I roll my eyes and try to hide my smile. He’s a good man, and he - we - deserve a good woman. Now to get this shit with the PD sorted out so we can concentrate on finding her.