CHAPTER 16
ADDYSON
You’re going to sit your ass down right here until I come back for you.
I’d love to believe he didn’t just say what I heard him say. But I know he did. And the worst part? I know he’s only speaking and commanding from a place of concern, fear, and the need to keep me safe.
It’s a shame it’s not going to fly. Not a shame for me. Nope. He’s the one who is going to be struggling with this.
“No.”
I say the word simply. Evenly. I hold Briggs’s crystal blue gaze and let the word land.
It does.
And it explodes.
He clenches his jaw so tight that his teeth have to begging for relief. His voice is calm, but he can’t hide his frustration, “What do you mean, no?”
I square my shoulders and stand toe to toe with my big biker man. “You heard me. I’m not a dog. You can’t just order me to sit somewhere and expect me to do it without question. I get that Wagner is here for me, but I’m not going to hide from him. Not when he’s standing right in front of me.”
“He’s a dirty cop who wants to tie up loose ends because he murdered his wife,” Briggs reminds me, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he seethes out the words.
Like I’m not the one who is intimately aware of what the man did and how vicious it was. It was his voice that haunted me. Granted, it hasn’t been a problem since I arrived at the clubhouse.
Since Mayhem started holding you and looking at you like he would face down the world for you.
Yeah. Since then.
“He also knows I’m here,” I point out because it needs to be said. “He wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t sure. Why would he roll up to the gate like he doesn’t have any worries?”
“I don’t know,” Briggs groans and runs his fingers through his hair.
I can feel the anxiety and the worried energy coming off him in waves. He wants to take action; he wants to get moving. I’m preventing it because I’m arguing with him.
But if he wants to leave me behind and expects me to simply accept it, then we’re going to have problems.
I’ve been damn good about this whole situation. I haven’t complained. I haven’t argued. I haven’t insisted or made demands.
Because it’s what was going to keep me safe. But with Wagner at the gate, things have changed.
He knows where I am and there is really only one way this can end now. Wagner is going to die. I’m not under any na?ve delusion that there is any other way for this to go.
What I don’t need to know are the details.
“I’m not going to let you walk out there without me.
This is all my fault. He’s here because of me,” my breathing picks up as the reality if the situation slams into me.
The fear that chased me away from the police station days ago is back, but it’s different now.
It’s not as sharp and I know it’s because of Mayhem.
“I’ll give him what he wants if that’s what it takes. I’ll hand over the recording.”
“No,” Briggs barks out the word, his hands clamping down on my shoulders and grounding me. “This was never about the recording and was always about him covering his ass. You ran and he figured you knew. Now he’s tracked you here.”
It feels like his touch holds me up and gives me strength. I nod and while I have questions, I don’t ask them.
Even though fear is curling in my gut, I know I need to do this. I have to.
“I need to face him,” my voice breaks and I hope it doesn’t make me look weak because then Briggs will insist that I stay here.
I can’t sit in this office knowing the man I’ve been running from is right out at the gate. And I know I’m not going to be stepping out there by myself. I’ll have this man, and the rest of the club, at my back. I already know without it being said.
“Fuck,” Briggs groans, his head falling back on his shoulders like he’s already regretting words he hasn’t said yet. When he tips his head forward again, the look on his face is pure resignation. “Fine. But you stay right next to me,” he commands.
I nod once. While it feels like a victory, it’s bittersweet. The reality is I’m about to walk out of the place that has been my sanctuary, to confront a man who has tracked me this far and isn’t afraid to kill.
“Damn,” Rampage holds out the word, his eyes bouncing back and forth between the two of us. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
I can’t help but ask, “What day?”
“The day our Prez handed his balls over to a woman,” Rampage practically giggles the words and I roll my eyes.
“I just know I’m going to regret this,” Briggs mutters under his breath before shooting Rampage a look of frustration and annoyance.
As my man leads me out of his office, I try and control how hard my heart is pounding in my chest. I know it’s just a side effect of what I’m about to do.
Am I really about to step out of my safe place to confront a murderer? And it was my idea?
The looming, steady presence of Mayhem at my side helps to remind me that I’m not doing this alone. I have men at my back who have already become friends, and big brothers, and family. I think the feeling has come on so quickly because it’s right.
And inevitable.
“Don’t lose your composure,” Briggs murmurs out of the corner of his mouth. “You don’t have to say a word while we’re out there. Prepare yourself because I’m sure he’ll pull his gun, but you don’t need to be afraid. We will be safe and covered.”
He sounds so sure of his words. His confidence helps, and I find myself believing in what he’s telling me. Maybe we will walk away from this without anyone getting hurt. Maybe
That’s what would really kill me—someone getting hurt because I showed up at their gates.
As we walk through the main room, a few guys fall into step behind us. I can feel their presence, like a wall of steady comfort, a wall of leather and determination.
No one says a damn word as we step out of the barn and head toward the gate as one unit. No one questions my presence at Mayhem’s side. No one even does a double take.
Like this is the way it was always supposed to be.
Wagner notices me the moment we’re close enough. His eyes gleam like he’s won something, not knowing there isn’t even a battle to begin with. He lost the moment he figured the best next step was to come straight at the Devil’s Saints Motorcycle Club.
No one breaks stride, the power Wagner thinks he has here is without weight. He just doesn’t see it yet.
But that’s okay.
When we stop, Mayhem steps in front of me slightly. He doesn’t block me entirely from Wagner, but the intent behind the action is clear.
“I’ve gotta say,” Wagner’s voice is slimy as he looks at me, “the last place I expected to find a nice small-town girl like you is at a motorcycle club compound.”
I don’t say anything. I don’t need to because the last person I need to justify anything to is this man.
Wagner smirks, his badge proudly on display, before pulling his gun, pointing it right at me. Mayhem steps in front of me fully and my fingers curl into the leather of his cut which is warm from the heat of his body.
The men who walked out with us pull their guns as well, all of them pointed at the dirty cop. Glancing at them, more than a few of the men who I’ve come to know over the last few days have gleeful smiles on their faces. That should scare me, but it doesn’t. Not even a little bit.
“You’re really going to pull guns on a cop and protect this woman? She’s a criminal, and I have a warrant for her arrest,” he says it like he believes his own bullshit. All I can do is shake my head.
If he thought his badge offered any protection, he’s misjudged the situation.
When I peek around the wall of muscle that is my big, bad biker, the only one without a gun in his hand, I notice it’s not only the men who walked out with us who are holding guns on Wagner. There are a few brothers on the other side of the gate, which is still closed, doing the same.
“How’d they get out there?” I whisper the question, not even meaning to ask it out loud.
“Back gate,” Briggs grunts and my fingers tighten on his cut. Briggs projects his voice, his tone taunting, “She’s a criminal?”
“Yes,” Wagner confirms, his gun still aimed in my direction, “I have a warrant for her arrest. I would suggest handing her over or else a lot of shit will be hitting your club. I’m sure there are things you don’t want found in there,” he motions toward the clubhouse with his gun.
Mayhem muses, “Why would an Internal Affairs cop be here with a warrant to arrest a criminal all by himself?” Wagner freezes, his face asking all the questions he doesn’t put into words.
Mayhem chuckles, the sound low and ominous, like a storm you watch approach knowing destruction is coming.
“Yeah, Wagner,” he sneers, “we know exactly who you are and why you’re here. ”
All of the pretense, which there wasn’t much to begin with, melts away.
“She must be a good fuck if you’re protecting her.
” He’s expecting a reaction, but when my man doesn’t flinch, he keeps going like he’s won something when it’s clear every breath he takes is all bravado.
“I looked into you Mayhem,” he spits out the road name like a curse.
“You should protect yourself and your club.
Wagner thinks it’s a threat. Maybe it would be if my man was afraid of getting his hands dirty.
“I am,” Briggs tells him. When Wagner’s twists up in confusion, my man adds, “I’m protecting my woman from a dirty fucking cop who killed his wife who was in the middle of leaving him.
The only good thing here is that you didn’t have kids with her, that would make this whole situation even messier. ”
Well. Shit.
Wagner’s face turns murderous and I have no doubt that right now he looks a lot like he did when he killed Kendra. The memory of her last moments pop into my mind unbidden. I had been doing such a good job of pushing those memories to the side for my own sanity.
“What’s the plan here? The only thing you can do is let me walk away,” Wagner tries to sound like he’s in control. We all know he’s not.
There’s something in his voice, the dismissiveness of it, that has rage flaring in my belly. I step to the side, exposing myself to Wagner, but I can’t worry about that right now.
“Where do you get off coming here like you didn’t murder someone days ago? You’ve been walking through life like you aren’t a criminal, like the ones you took an oath to bring to justice,” my words drip with disgust.
They keep rolling off my tongue, “You killed the woman you vowed to love, the woman you committed to. For what? Because she didn’t want to put up with your bullshit anymore?
” I scoff, the sound layered with pure rage.
“I’ve known Mayhem for a matter of days, and I know down to my soul that he would never do anything to hurt me because he’s mine and I’m his.
” Briggs sucks in a breath and his back goes rigid, but I barely notice.
“But you killed your wife. And you call yourself a man,” I lob the words like grenades.
Briggs shifts again, blocking Wagner from my view and my angry tirade. He reaches back and curls his hand around my hip, giving it a squeeze which is more warning than check-in. It’s clear he doesn’t want me to move again.
And I understand why, but this dirty cop pisses me off. There are so many layers here of wrong and it feels impossible to uncover all of them.
“You can’t prove a damn thing,” Wagner’s words are all manufactured swagger.
“We’ll see about that,” Briggs says the words with a finality that has me peeking back around his torso.
I watch as Wagner’s approached from behind and grabbed. He struggles against the hold on him, but there is no way he’s going to get away. He’s going to find out what the real meaning of justice is.
As Wagner kicks up a fuss, Briggs turns and looks down at me. His blue eyes burn bright under the light of the moon. He’s looking at me with so much love that the word slips and slides along the tip of my tongue like it wants to escape.
He takes my mouth in a brutal kiss. One that leaves me clinging to him and panting as he pulls away from me.
“Don’t ever step from behind me when I’m shielding you from danger,” he growls the words.
Even though he’s being demanding, it’s a huge fucking turn on. But now is not the time.
“I knew I was safe,” I tell him without any heat in my words, just the truth of them.
“Not the point.”
“Okay,” I breathe out, “I won’t do it again.”
It’s an easy promise to make because I don’t see this situation coming up again. I could be wrong, but I think it’s a pretty good bet to make.
“Go,” I tell him, pulling him back down to me so I can kiss him hard. “I know you want to go and make sure this is taken care of. Go.”
He stares down at me, and I realize that everyone has moved away from us, giving us space while having our backs. That feeling of family, of belonging, wraps around me.
“You sure?” When I nod and swallow hard, the reality of what just happened slams into me and I sway slightly. His large hands grip my arms, steadying me and holding me until I can do it on my own. “No, you’re not,” he insists.
“Briggs,” I murmur, “I’ll be fine. I need you to go and end this,” I plead with him. “If you tell me it’s over, I’ll believe you, but right now it’s not over.”
“Damn it,” he grunts before slowly releasing his grip on my arms. “Lets get you inside and then I can take care of this.”
I let him lead me back toward the clubhouse and then to his room without stopping for anything on the way. He’s crouching down in front of me as I sit on the side of the bed before I even know it. The last few minutes are a blur, and I know I’m going to crash.
“Take it easy, Tempest,” he rumbles. “I’ve got this.”
I nod because I don’t trust my voice. I know he’ll do whatever is necessary to keep me safe. The world will be a better place without Geoffrey Wagner in it anyway.
I should feel bad about that, but I don’t.
As Briggs leaves, he looks back at me one more time. Just to make sure I’m okay.
The reality is that I’m not. Not yet. But I will be.
My big, bad biker, who has given me his heart so damn freely, won’t accept anything less.