Chapter Two
Being a police officer had always been my dream, ever since I was a little girl. What kind of jobs did the other girls aspire to having? Well, they ranged from doctors to models, and everywhere in between, but for some reason it was rare to want to be a ‘copper’, at least where I grew up.
My dad was an addict, and that meant growing up was tough, and sometimes dangerous, especially when mum gave up and left us, and I had to practically raise myself, while keeping dad out of trouble, and alive, at times.
Why did my mother feel that leaving me with him was the best option? Best for her, I guess.
Anyway, watching him descend further and further into addiction, which started with prescription painkillers, by the way, just in case you think he started off bad, and watching the life of crime it led him to…
well, how could I not want something better out of life?
By the time I was sixteen, I was living with a foster family, because he’d gone to prison yet again, and this time he was in for a long stretch. Armed robbery tended to do that.
Going through my training to become a police officer had been tricky, and fraught with the fear of people finding out where I came from.
Leaving town, starting afresh, and following my dream, all big scary things for a twenty year old, but here I was, ten years later, still at the bottom of the damn pile.
“I swear every day’s the fucking same,” I grumbled to my partner, PC Evers, who just laughed.
“I like predictability. It tends to keep me alive. Will you just relax?”
Relax. Yeah, we’d been partners for a year now, and clearly he had no idea who I even was.
Relaxing was for losers. Quitters. Criminals.
I had to be alert, and at the top of my game, because this wasn’t where I’d intended to be.
I’d planned to work my way up, but guess what?
Working your way up in the police force isn’t easy.
You know what happens a lot? Cuts in funding.
You think you know where you’re at, and then you get moved to another department, another beat, another team, because jobs are disappearing.
Crime goes up, but policing goes down, because the funding for cutting down on crime disappears. Great work by our fucking government.
“You’re practically grinding your teeth to dust over there, Jay. Calm down, we’re only halfway through our shift, and you’re already wound up.”
Wound up? I was fucking pissed. Driving around looking for minor crime, and minor criminals, wasn’t going to get me noticed.
I needed something big, didn’t I? We paused at a junction as several motorcycles cruised past, the riders all big guys wearing leathers, each with a large patch on the back.
Rogue Riders. Huh… a motorcycle club here in town? How had I not been aware of them yet.
“Who are the Rogue Riders?” I asked, as Evers steered out of the junction, heading in the same direction as the bikers.
He groaned, indicating to turn left at the lights, while they were all heading right.
I wondered where the hell they were going, and how we could find out more.
Motorcycle clubs were rife with crime, weren’t they?
“Jesus, don’t start with them, Jay. I swear, that’s biting off more than you can chew. They’re fucked up guys, and you don’t want to get on their radar.”
Wow. Way to light up a fucking unpressable red button for me. Don’t push the button, Jamie, only I really wanted to now.
“So they’re above the law?”
He pulled up at the local shops, where we were likely to catch loiterers, or drunks, or some other boring crap.
“Jamie, I’m serious. The Rogues are fucking psychos, okay? You don’t go in and mess with them, unless you want a target on your back.” He actually sounded afraid of them, and why the hell were the police afraid of the criminals, instead of the other way around.
“You’ve had run ins with them?”
He shrugged, his eyes scanning the street around us, zooming in on a crowd of teenagers fresh out of school, and heading for the newsagent on the corner. Great. Shoplifters might be the only highlight of my damn day.
“Evers?”
“Jesus. Yes, okay? I pulled one of them over once, and it was a big fucking mistake. I spent the next few months being followed, and harassed by members of their club, and you know what? I got the message, and I don’t fuck with them anymore.
I have a fucking daughter, Jay. I don’t want them deciding to make a problem for me, by going through her. Get it?”
Little Lacey, hell, the idea of any trouble coming her way was horrifying, so although I totally thought the law should be the ones with the upper hand here, I had to admit I understood his thinking.
Keep trouble away from his little girl. I wouldn’t push him anywhere near them, but as luck would have it, I didn’t have any family anywhere near here, so I wasn’t in the same boat.
“Fuck’s sake, Jay, I know that look. You’re a stubborn, tenacious kind of person, and I know that, but bear something in mind here.
I’m a man, and I’m worried about the threat they pose to my wife, and my little girl.
You have vulnerabilities even without dependents.
” I shrugged, and he turned to face me, grabbing my wrist.
“Jay, I’m serious. They could do serious damage to you.
Hurt you in ways you’ve seen others suffer through.
You don’t want to push them. Promise me.
” Grudgingly, I nodded at him, shaking his grip loose, but in the back of my mind, I was already planning.
Research. Do a fuck-ton of research, and know my enemy.
Once that happened, I wasn’t backing down.
I wanted to work my way up, and what better way, than to take out the biggest criminal element in our small Hampshire town?
I’d be a fucking legend once I’d done that.
So maybe I wouldn’t drag Evers into it, because his little girl should be safe, but I’d put myself on the line because, without risk, did I even deserve the reward?
Tesio
Istared at Don Rossi, my heart thudding in my chest as I absorbed his words for the third time, while he did the eyebrow thing for the millionth time since I’d known him. It’d been weeks of research, months even, keeping my eyes on Phoenix MC, and their comings and goings.
I already knew I’d caused one shitstorm, by casually commenting on the idea of Tori being shacked up, and unmarried, and I knew that’d forced the Don’s hand, when it became clear it wasn’t just my idle thought at all.
They’d had to marry, just to appease him, but that didn’t really matter to me.
What mattered was what was happening right now.
“Would you like me to repeat myself, Tesio?” Fuck. The Don doesn’t repeat himself, even though he mellowed somewhat when we were alone.
“For how long, boss?” He lifted a shoulder, leaning back in his chair to watch me as I absorbed what was going on.
I was being ‘reassigned’, aka sent in undercover.
In the same motorcycle club his daughter was now a part of.
Phoenix MC. I’d watched them for so long, I’d met Ice and Has-Been when they came to the compound to meet with Rossi, and I felt like I knew enough about them to assimilate myself into their way of life, but it was still a shock.
Mafia life was all I knew. All I’d ever been a part of.
Now I was going to masquerade as a biker?
“What’s my cover story?”
He sighed softly, like I was being a huge burden to him, and reached for his phone, pressing a button, and speed dialling someone on speaker.
“Reacher,” the voice responded gruffly.
“We’re in situ, Mr Reacher, please confirm the arrangements for Tesio’s arrival.”
There was murmuring in the background, and Don Rossi straightened a little.
“Who else is with you.” It wasn’t a question, wasn’t posed as one, and didn’t sound remotely like one to any of us. There was a click and the background noise changed a little.
“My VP, Stitch, is here with me. We manage the club together. You met on your visit here, Don Rossi.”
My boss’s fingers tapped on his desk, an erratic staccato that irritated me just enough that if he’d been anyone else, I’d have already slapped his fingers flat to the shiny surface.
“Afternoon, Don Rossi. We’re grateful for your offer to loan Tesio to us.”
“I asked for my cover story, and here we are. You want me on tech with Ice?”
The Don was back to eyebrowing me ‘like a boss’, so I figured I’d take over, and get this done.
“You’ll be coming in as a nomad, an outrider looking for a home. That’ll give us the opportunity to let you in as a temporary member. If the club believes you’re looking to patch in at some point, they’ll give you a chance, and hopefully grow to trust you like one of them.”
I’d heard of nomads, and patching in with clubs, because I’m nothing if not a fucking epic researcher.
“And what’s my ‘in’ with your club specifically?”
Did Rossi look impressed? It might have been boredom with him, because he made sure he was always unreadable. I guess that shit kept him safe all the years I hadn’t been one of his men yet.
“You met Has-Been before. He came to us much the same way some years ago, so your cover will be that you know him, and that’s how you know about us.
It’s a delicate situation, Tesio. You can come up with your own story beyond that, but that’s how we’ll brief your impending arrival.
” Delicate situation? I met Don Rossi’s eyes again, and he quirked his lips briefly.
“Explain to Tesio why the situation is delicate, please.”
Again, he didn’t ask anything, even of the club’s president, and the guy recognised it for what it was. He sighed heavily before he spoke.
“We’re being targeted by a saboteur, and we believe they’re a club member. Ice needs help working behind the scenes on this, but… well…” he trailed off, and Stitch picked up where he left off.
“We’re hoping that your being new to the club will protect you, while also making you someone that a person on the outs with us might trust. It’s thin, I know, but this fucker is targeting people I care about, and I won’t let anyone else get hurt.
” Shit, sounded like they had no idea how to keep a fucking house running right, but something about this assignment was appealing to me.
I’d met Ice and Has-Been, and even just a hint of their life had me intrigued.
Mafia was all about duty, respect, and honour.
All about looking the part, and bending to fit in with the regulated expectations of the fucking family.
Biker life? It suddenly sounded like fucking heaven.
“Do you have a name for him, or is he selecting his own?”
I blinked as Don Rossi’s question drew me back into the conversation at hand.
“Do you have something in mind?”
I practically fucking bristled. Nobody was naming me.
That was for me to fucking do, because for once, I’d get to choose who I’d be.
Only… nothing came to mind. I just kept picturing Ice and Has-Been, and what did they call me?
A greasy mafia bastard? A grin spread across my face suddenly, and Don Rossi lifted both eyebrows in some kind of fucking elevated interest that gave me a shot of courage.
“Grease,” I blurted, and heard both of them laugh on the other end of the phone. Don Rossi’s lips twitched, and he nodded.
“Grease will be with you in the next few days. Make provisions for his accommodations, and he’ll bring what equipment he can feasibly carry on a motorcycle.” Grease. It was so fucking inappropriate that I loved it.
How would Grease act? Would he be laid back and mouthy? Would he still act like a mafia guy, and try to laugh it off, claiming some shit about his upbringing making him an uptight cunt?
Hell, I couldn’t wait to see which way it went, because I didn’t want to plan it. For once, I wanted to wing it. Biker style.