Chapter Two.
Lindy – The Past, five days later – Early hours of Saturday morning.
I wiped the counter down one last time and called out to Bart. The huge owner came lumbering from the kitchen and leaned against the doorjamb.
“All done, Lindy girl?”
“Yeah, Bart. I’m off now. Thanks for earlier,” I replied, referring to the incident with David.
The prick had boldly come to the bar tonight and created a scene. One which Bart did not approve of. Bart had fisted the back of David’s shirt and marched him out, and then booted David straight up his ass. What had David thought he’d accomplish, I’d no idea, but he’d failed miserably.
David had been ranting so fast and furiously I’d honestly not understood a word. Later, someone informed me that David had been fired from his job… for fucking the boss’s wife. Karma was a bitch. Of course, the photocopied page from David’s book being mysteriously sent to his boss was a mystery… not. Everyone in Camden knew about David, and hundreds of questions were being asked.
Several of the customers tonight had inquired if their wives were mentioned, and I’d confirmed yay or nay accordingly. David had burned me, and in revenge, I was setting his world on fire and not in a good way. Maybe I was being hateful, but I didn’t care. All I could imagine were those bitches’ faces when they spoke to me or saw me.
Well, they weren’t so smug now.
Bart had been amused when I told him five days ago what had happened. A nasty thought had crossed my mind that David had brought his conquests here. Bart had assured me he hadn’t, or he’d have broken David’s legs. However, Bart didn’t deny hearing rumours. Knowing Bart, he wouldn’t have repeated them because that wasn’t something he’d do. A man, according to Bart, didn’t gossip.
“Stay safe, darlin’,” Bart called as he emptied the cash drawer to take the takings to the safe.
That was Bart’s last routine every night before having a smoke outside and heading to his apartment above the bar.
“You too, boss,” I replied and left, closing the doors.
My car was parked close to the exit and under a light. That was the only reason Bart was letting me walk out by myself. I pulled the keys from my purse and reached out to open the door; as I did, a heavy blow smashed into my arm.
“Bitch,” a voice hissed, and something hard hit my temple.
Then it was lights out.
Spice – The past.
Riding home this late from a job wasn’t ideal. I should have crashed at the clubhouse, but I yearned for my bed tonight. As I rode past Bart’s Bar, I spotted Lindy’s car parked up with the door open. That was strange.
Curious, I pulled over, checked my watch, and realised it was half-past two in the morning. The bar closed at two, so Lindy should have left. The open car door was cause for even greater concern.
Illegally pulling a U-turn, I spun around and entered the parking lot, drawing up close to Lindy’s vehicle. My heart leapt in my throat as I rounded the driver’s side and spied a figure on the ground.
“Shit! Bart!” I bellowed as I jumped off my bike and headed for the body. “Bart!” I roared again as I crouched and nearly lost it when I recognised Lindy.
Her face had been battered and was so swollen she was virtually unrecognisable. Lindy’s right cheek had a deep cut made by a ring, and her lips were split and bleeding. There was a large lump on her head, and I saw a pipe wrench nearby.
“What the fuck?” Bart yelled as he came around the car.
“Get an ambulance,” I ordered as I checked for Lindy’s pulse.
Bart began hurrying back to the bar when a truck peeled out, tyres screeching. We exchanged glances.
“Lindy’s barely breathing, and her pulse is thready. Bart, I can’t give chase. Get on the damn phone before we lose her,” I snapped.
Bart nodded and hurried inside. I was doing my hardest to ignore the fact that Lindy’s clothes were torn, and her jeans were yanked down. Bart reappeared and took in the scene.
“Spice, we can’t let people see Lindy like that,” Bart muttered. Upset, I agreed and pulled her pants up. I was careful where I touched. The police might find evidence on her panties.
“Did you spot anyone, Spice?” Bart asked, and he lit a smoke up.
“No. I spotted Lindy’s car and wondered why it was here and doubled back to check,” I replied.
Lindy had been battered and sexually assaulted. I didn’t know if she’d been full-on raped, but some sexual activity had happened. And the suspect pool was fuckin’ massive after the week Lindy had just survived. This could be anyone—an angry husband, a furious woman, you name it.
Sirens blared in the distance as Bart and I watched.
“Camera’s working Bart?”
“Yeah.”
“Go check them and pull the footage for me and the boys.”
“What’s Lindy to you, Spice?” Bart asked suspiciously.
“A neighbour,” I replied. “Get that recording, Bart, because the cops will blame me for this.”
“Fuck!” Bart looked conflicted. But he moved as he knew I was right.
Before Lindy even hit the ambo, I’d be in bracelets. The police would arrest me in the blink of an eye. They hated the club around here; arresting a member of the Royal Bastards MC for this would be pretty predictable. My being here meant, in their eyes, I’d done this, which is why I sent Bart for the footage, as it should show Lindy’s attack and also my arrival.
The cops would make that evidence disappear damn quick in their rush to put a Royal Bastard behind bars. Bart pulling it would save my ass.
A black and white sped into the car park, and two uniforms leapt out. Within seconds, they had their guns on me and were screaming for me to get on my knees. What a fuckin’ surprise. Shortly after, an unmarked car pulled up, and two detectives emerged. One sent me a look of sheer glee, and his thoughts were plain to read.
They finally had a Royal Bastard in cuffs. The detectives approached the two uniforms and murmured in their ears.
I tried telling them what happened but gave up and obeyed and zipped my lips. The cops got on their radios, detailing the scene, and I was shoved into the back of the car.
“What are you doing?” Bart yelled.
“Asshole’s under arrest,” a detective replied.
“Spice didn’t do it! He found Lindy and alerted me to call the police,” Bart shouted.
“Likely story. Did you take turns?” the detective asked.
Bart drew himself up. “Watch your mouth, son. My cousin is your captain. Do you wanna make this an issue? I can fuckin’ make this one,” Bart hissed.
The pig blanched. “Sorry, sir.”
“You better be. I’m calling my cousin now. Spice found Lindy. He didn’t do this, and I’ve footage of Spice arriving,” Bart stated.
“We’ll take a look at that,” the second detective said, nodding at a uniform before glancing at me with hate. Yeah, the feeling’s mutual, asshole.
“Go ahead. It shows Lindy leaving, a figure who is not Spice attacking her. Then Spice pulls in,” Bart announced.
The two cops disappeared inside the building, and I guessed the footage was about to disappear. Bart held up three fingers, and I nodded. Hopefully, I guessed Bart meant he’d downloaded three copies.
“Get one to Berserker,” I mouthed, and Bart tilted his head.
My gaze shifted to Lindy; she remained unconscious, and a cop covered her with a blanket.
To my relief, the ambo pulled in screaming, and two paramedics jumped out and raced over. The second detective returned and shook his head at Bart.
“Your footage is corrupted. Ain’t nothing showing what happened.”
“Strange that,” Bart replied, “Especially as I watched it with my own eyes.”
“Maybe you deleted it to cover for the suspect,” the asshole sneered and then wiped the look from his face.
“Or you did to point the finger at an innocent man,” Bart retorted angrily. “Shit, my barmaid was attacked, and you’re fuckin’ worried about locking a Royal Bastard up. Dude, you don’t give a fuck about finding the real culprit.”
“Watch your mouth, cousin or not; slander is slander,” the uniform warned.
He opened the driver’s door and got in after calling out that he was taking me to jail.
“About time justice caught up with one of your lot. You’re looking at life,” he snickered.
“And you’re facing a civil case and losing your job. The court frowns on tampering with evidence,” I replied and glanced at Lindy one last time.
Whoever did this would pay. I’d get the fucker, and he’d be in for a world of pain. Lindy was mine to protect. I decided there and then, I’d make her life fun again.
◆◆◆
“Lawyer,” I said once more as the detective shoved another question at me. His partner sat silently: good cop, bad cop.
“Spice, a lawyer won’t save you from this. Take a deal, and we’ll go for twenty years,” the smart ass offered. His name was Ventor, and the silent cop was Webb.
“Dude, you ain’t got shit on me. And that uniform? Fucker’s heading for a world of pain. Get. Me. A. Lawyer.”
“Was that a threat?” Ventor asked.
“That was the truth. Lawyer, for fuck’s sake, do you understand English? Lawyer!”
The door opened, and a uniform stuck her head in. “Mr… um… Spice’s lawyer is here,” she said, looking a little confused.
“What? Suspect’s not had his phone call yet,” Ventor responded, startled.
“Well, there’s a lawyer here,” she replied.
“Send him in,” Ventor said grumpily.
I grinned as the club’s lawyer, Cassandra Amble, strutted in. Cassie checked me over and turned to glare at the detective.
“How did Spice receive that enormous bruise on his head? And I want your name. I could hear Spice demanding a lawyer several times and you admitting he’s not had his call,” she snarled.
“It’s okay, Cassie, I banged my head earlier,” I interjected before Cassie went all Hulk on Ventor’s ass.
“Fine. What are the charges, and why is Spice cuffed?” Cassandra demanded, sitting down and straightening her suit.
She opened her briefcase and took out a notepad and pen and began making notes.
“Detective Ventor. Spice is under arrest for the attempted rape of Lindy Reynolds and assault and battery.”
“Spice?” Cassandra asked.
“As I told the cop who arrested me, I was riding home from the clubhouse. I saw Lindy’s car, and the door was open, but I couldn’t spot Lindy—”
“You know this woman?” Detective Ventor interrupted.
“Lindy’s my neighbour.”
“Ah, I see,” Ventor said, bobbing his head.
Cassandra sent him a dirty look. “I very much doubt you understand. Carry on, Spice.”
“I pulled a U-turn and drove over and found Lindy. On seeing how injured she was, I yelled for Bart, and he came out. Then we called the police and checked Lindy was alive. Next thing cops arrive, and I’m in bracelets.”
“There’s no evidence events happened as you say. Why not admit you took a fancy to Miss Warrick? She rejected you and you took it into your hands to show Miss Warrick who’s boss?” Ventor snapped.
“No evidence? Bart Fowler says there was camera footage and has given me a statement detailing what he saw on it,” Cassie said.
“When my officer checked the cameras, they were corrupted. No doubt to hide the fact Spice here committed the assault,” Ventor replied with a smirk.
Amused, I leaned back in my chair as Cassie smiled. That smile would warn anyone else, but not Ventor.
“Is that so? No evidence? Can you tell me why I have one of three copies of that non-existent footage from tonight? And additional duplicates are being made as we speak. Apparently, your officers don’t understand how to download footage without corrupting or deleting it. Your little uniformed minion is in for a world of pain,” Cassie said sweetly.
“What footage? There was none; my uniform checked thoroughly,” Ventor replied smugly.
“Did you not understand me? Mr Fowler made three copies before you all arrived. It seemed he and Spice feared that once the police examined the recording, it might disappear. And lo and behold, it did.
“Thanks to Mr Fowler’s diligence, we can prove events happened as Spice says, and you can also get an image of the real culprit. Meanwhile, you will release my client and apologise, and then we’ll be filing a wrongful arrest suit. Because what you, Detective Webb, and your uniformed minion missed was the camera pointed at the keyboard. We have clear evidence of you hitting delete,” Cassie stated and sent them her cute as fuck smile again.
A man opened the door. “Ventor, Webb, the captain wants you both in his office. Mr Spice, you’re free to go with our apologies.”
Yawning, I stood up and stretched. “I’ll take that apology in writing. We frame them at the clubhouse. A delight as always, Cassie,” I said, bending to kiss her cheek.
“Take yourself off, Spice, and stay out of trouble. I’ll deal with shit here,” Cassie ordered as I was uncuffed.
Cheerfully, I sent the two detectives a smirk, knowing I’d made an enemy of Ventor at least today, and left. There was only one place I was heading.
Lindy – The past.
Terrified, I jerked awake as someone touched me and released a scream.
“It’s okay, Miss Reynolds, I’m a nurse. My name is Julie. You’re in the hospital and are safe,” a female voice soothed.
I could barely make out a figure.
“What happened? Why can’t I see?” I asked, panicked.
“Miss Reynolds, you were the victim of a vicious assault. I’m sorry, but you were brutally beaten in the face, and your eyes are very swollen. You also have bruises elsewhere on your body and…” Julie’s voice trailed off as my memory snapped into place.
I recalled the rain of blows that hit me, the pipe hurting my arm. I peered and saw it was in a cast. The blow had broken it then. I remembered blacking out and coming to with someone on top, trying to rape me. I remembered fighting and the loud sound of a bike. The attacker had muttered something in my ear and then ran as a bright light came into the car park.
As he fled, he had kicked me in the head, and I remembered nothing else.
“Was I raped?” I croaked.
“The doctor…”
“Tell me.”
“There is bruising on your inner thighs, but no inside trauma and no fluids were found. We believe it was a close call, but you fought him off,” Julie answered calmly.
“He was trying to get inside,” I muttered, beginning to shake. Horrified, I could remember his penis at my entrance.
“We did a rape check, Miss Reynolds, and they have your attacker in jail already. He was a member of an MC,” Julie said, and I heard the disgust in her voice.
“Huh?”
“Yeah, the rumours are saying it was a Royal Bastard. Someone called Spike,” Julie gossiped, stroking my arm.
Spike? Did Julie mean Spice? No, it hadn’t been Spice. Because I knew who it was, and it wasn’t Spice.
“Get the police. They have the wrong man,” I gasped.
“What? No, sweetie, they found him next to you,” Julie explained.
“No. It wasn’t Spice.”
“Oh honey, did you know him? I’m sorry, you can never trust a member of a gang like that. They’re not honourable men,” Julie patronised as she re-arranged my pillows.
“Watch what bullshit you’re spreading, especially when it concerns an innocent man,” a voice said, and Julie hissed.
“Spice!” I cried, and tears leaked down my face.
“Sweetheart, I’m here. Shhh now, nobody’s going to hurt you again,” Spice soothed as I heard his boots clump across the floor.
“Julie told me you were arrested,” I sobbed.
“Yeah, I was, because I found you. But there’s camera footage showing my arrival and your attacker running away. Shit, Lindy, if only I’d driven by earlier,” Spice said, and his voice was full of guilt.
“Not your fault,” I muttered as tears ran down my face. A gentle finger wiped them from my cheek.
“Baby, I’ll find him,” Spice promised.
“Spice, he wore a Halloween mask. I recognised it from that horror movie with the chainsaw,” I informed him.
“The Texas Chainsaw Massacre? Leatherface?”
“Yes.”
“You need to tell the police,” Julie insisted, and I realised I’d forgotten she was there.
“What? After they already arrested the wrong man?” I snapped and winced. My lips hurt.
“Well, I’m sure they had good reason,” Julie said primly.
“Yeah, I wear a cut, and that’s a crime,” Spice retorted.
“Go away. I don’t need judgemental bitches around,” I added.
“How rude!” Julie exclaimed, but she left.
“Don’t like people like her,” I muttered.
“Jesus, Lindy, do you have any idea who did this?” Spice asked. He was holding my hand, and his thumb was stroking me.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Tell me, baby girl, I’ll take care of him,” Spice murmured.
Did I trust Spice or the cops? The question was a hard one. I’d been a law-abiding citizen all my life.
“Spice, what happened with the police?” I asked.
“Are you sure you want to know?”
“Yes.”
Intently, I listened as Spice explained what had happened when the cops had arrived. I was appalled that they’d deleted the footage but glad Bart had copied it. As Spice ended, a knock sounded, and my door opened.
“What are you doing here?” a man demanded.
“What do you think?” Spice snapped.
“Intimidating the victim?” the guy accused.
Spice laughed. “Sweetheart, are you frightened of me?”
“Me?” I asked, startled. “Hell no.”
“Does that answer you, Ventor?” Spice inquired.
“Is that the bad cop?”
“Yeah,” Spice drawled. His thumb continued to make circles on my hand. It was distracting.
“Spice, I don’t want to talk to him.”
“Miss Reynolds, you’ve been through a severe trauma. And viciously attacked. We want to get your attacker,” Ventor said.
“Do you? You automatically arrested Spice without reason, and what evidence you had was deleted. That would have meant my actual attacker would have got away with it, and you would have aided him in that,” I whispered. “In my eyes, that makes you the enemy.”
Tears clogged my throat.
“Lindy,” Spice murmured, and I clutched his hand.
“He was so close to raping me. He was pushing at my entrance. If Spice hadn’t arrived, he’d have raped me. You arrested the man who saved me because he wears a cut. How am I meant to trust you with anything?” I asked, breaking down into tears once more.
“Enough. Send a female or a different detective next time. You’re not to come near Lindy again. If you do, I’ll have Cassie on you,” Spice snapped angrily.
The bed dipped as Spice sat on it, and then I was hauled gently into his arms. “Cry it out, sweetheart, let it all go. That’s the only way to heal.”
“I see how it is,” Ventor sneered. “Miss Reynolds isn’t what we believed.”
“Don’t say anything else, Ventor. Your card is already marked. Get out and find someone else to interview Lindy. Because she ain’t gonna talk to you.”
As I cried, I clutched Spice’s top, and he held me tightly. The door opened and shut, and I sniffed as I wiped my tears away.
“It was David,” I whispered.
Spice stiffened, and I flinched but felt him force himself to relax.
“Asshole’s a dead man walking,” Spice promised.
I let myself sink into his hard, warm body. Spice offered me comfort, and I would take it.