Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
Monk
The officer who uncuffed me didn’t say a word. He just unlocked the metal restraints, stepped back, and walked out of the interrogation room like he couldn’t get away from me fast enough.
I rubbed my wrists, feeling the indentations the cuffs had left behind, then I stood and followed Lina out into the chaos of the police station. She was already moving, her heels clicking sharply against the tile floor, her shoulders squared, her entire body radiating fury.
I didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to. I just followed her, watching as she cut through the crowd of officers and agents like a blade through flesh.
She stopped in front of Chief Sean O’Rourke.
He was standing near the front desk, his arms crossed, his expression weary.
When he saw Lina approaching, his eyes narrowed slightly. “Ms. Wilcox,” he said, his tone cautious. “I assume you’re here to—”
“Drop the charges,” Lina said, her voice sharp and uncompromising as she pulled a manila folder from her bag and slapped it down on the desk in front of him. The sound echoed through the station.
O’Rourke looked down at the folder, then back up at Lina. “What is this?”
“Evidence,” Lina said, her voice cold. “Evidence that proves the rape allegations against my client are fabricated. Evidence that proves your entire case is built on lies, coercion, and conspiracy.”
O’Rourke’s jaw tightened as he picked up the folder and opened it, his eyes scanning the contents.
I watched as his expression shifted from skepticism to confusion to something darker, and then to anger. “Where did you get this?” he asked, his voice low.
“That’s not your concern,” Lina said, stepping closer. “What is your concern is that you have been manipulated by a federal agent who orchestrated this entire arrest to serve his own agenda.”
O’Rourke’s gaze flicked to me, then back to Lina. “You’re telling me—”
“I’m telling you,” Lina interrupted, her voice rising, “that you arrested an innocent man based on false testimony, fabricated evidence, and the word of a woman who was paid to lie.”
The station had gone quiet. Every officer, every agent, every person in the room was watching.
Lina didn’t care. She leaned forward, her hands braced on the desk, her face inches from O’Rourke’s.
“I have had it,” she said, her voice shaking with barely contained rage, “with this station’s vendetta against the Diamondback Motorcycle Club.
I have had it with your department arresting my clients without probable cause, without evidence, without due process. ”
O’Rourke opened his mouth to respond, but Lina cut him off.
“You want to go after the Diamondbacks?” she said, her voice dropping to a deadly calm.
“Fine. But you better make damn sure you collect all the information before you even think about arresting another brother. Because the next time you come at them with a bullshit charge like this, I will bury you in so many lawsuits you’ll be answering interrogatories until you retire. ”
She straightened, her gaze never leaving his. “Drop. The. Charges,” she said. “Now.”
O’Rourke stared at her for a long moment, and then he looked down at the folder again. His jaw worked, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.
Finally, he nodded.
“I’ll talk to the DA,” he said, his voice tight. “If the evidence checks out—”
“It will,” Lina said. “And when it does, I expect a formal apology. To my client. And to the club.”
O’Rourke’s mouth thinned into a hard line, but he didn’t argue.
Lina turned on her heel and walked toward me, her expression still fierce, still furious. When she reached me, she didn’t stop. Just grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the exit.
I followed, my chest tight, my heart pounding because watching her work, watching her tear through that station like a force of nature, defending me, protecting me, fighting for me, was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen and was seriously giving me a raging hard-on.
She was a warrior.
Just like me.
Only her battlefield was a courtroom, and her weapons were words, and she wielded them like a fucking sword.
The ride back to the clubhouse was quiet.
Lina drove her car, and I followed on my bike. The night air was cool against my skin, the rumble of the engine beneath me grounding me in a way nothing else could, as my mind raced with what happened at the station.
The rape charges were dropped. Lina had destroyed them with a single folder and a few well-placed threats, but the ATF arrest was a different problem entirely. Conspiracy to transport unmarked firearms across state lines.
That charge had teeth, and unless Lina could prove the roadblock was unlawful, unless she could discredit the intel they claimed to have, we were all looking at serious time.
I pulled into the clubhouse compound behind Lina and killed the engine as she climbed out of her car, her expression still tight, still angry.
I swung off my bike and walked over to her. “You okay?” I asked, my voice low.
She looked up at me, her eyes flashing. “No,” she said. “I’m not okay. I’m pissed. I’m exhausted. And I’m terrified that this is just the beginning.”
I reached out and cupped her face, my thumb brushing over her cheekbone. “We’ll figure it out,” I said. “Together.”
She closed her eyes and leaned into my touch. “I know,” she whispered. “I just need a minute.”
I nodded and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Take all the time you need, baby.”
Inside the clubhouse, the tension was thick enough to choke on. Brothers were gathered in the main room, their voices overlapping as they argued and shouted over each other.
“—how the fuck did they know—”
“—someone talked, had to be—”
“—no way they just happened to set up a roadblock—”
Kansas stood near the bar, his arms crossed, his expression dark. When he saw me walk in with Lina, he straightened. “Church,” he said, his voice cutting through the noise. “Officers only. Now.”
The brothers quieted, their gazes shifting to Kansas. “Everyone else, sit tight.”
I glanced at Lina. She was standing near the bar, her arms wrapped around herself, her expression distant. “Stay here,” I said quietly. “I’ll come get you in a minute.”
She nodded, her gaze flicking to mine. “Okay.”
I turned and followed Kansas toward the church room.
The church room was already filled with tension when I walked in.
Blackjack was leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Whisper sat to his right, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists on the table. Widow stood near the wall, his arms crossed, his gaze cold and calculating.
And then Shadow walked in. Smiling.
Actually fucking smiling as he took his seat at the table, leaning back casually, like he didn’t have a care in the world.
Kansas stared at him. “You want to tell me why the fuck you’re smiling right now?” Kansas asked, his voice low and dangerous.
Shadow shrugged. “Because we’re fine,” he said simply.
Blackjack leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “The ATF raid is all over town,” he said. “Every news station, every radio broadcast. They’re calling it a ‘major operation against organized crime.’”
Several brothers scoffed. Widow muttered something under his breath that sounded like “fucking pigs.”
I looked at Blackjack, raising an eyebrow.
He met my gaze and gave a single, subtle nod.
The guns are safe.
Relief flooded through me, sharp and immediate.
The weapons cache hadn’t been seized. Whatever Blackjack, Trigger, Shadow, and Judd had done with the shipment, it had worked.
Kansas exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “Good,” he said. “That’s one less problem.” Then he turned to me. “Go get Lina,” he said. “We need her in here.”
I nodded and stood, walking out of the church room and back into the main gathering area.
Lina was still standing near the bar, a beer in her hand, her expression tight. When she saw me, she straightened.
“Kansas wants you in church,” I said.
Her eyebrows rose. “Church?”
“Yeah.”
She set the beer down and followed me back toward the room. When we walked in, every head turned toward her, and Kansas gestured to an empty chair near the table. “Sit,” he instructed.
Lina hesitated, then sat down, her hands folding in her lap.
Kansas leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his gaze locking on hers. “I want to make this official,” he said. “I want you to be the club’s attorney. Full-time. On retainer.”
Lina’s eyes widened slightly. “Kansas—”
“I know what you’re going to say,” Kansas interrupted. “You’re worried about defending illegal activity. You’re worried about your license. You’re worried about crossing lines you can’t uncross.”
Lina’s jaw tightened. “Yes,” she said. “I am.”
Kansas nodded. “I get it,” he said. “And I’m not asking you to be a party to anything illegal. I’m asking you to represent us when we need legal counsel. To protect us when the law comes after us. To make sure we don’t get railroaded by cops with vendettas and Feds with agendas.”
Lina was quiet for a long moment, then she said, “I can’t defend illegal activity. If I know about a crime before it happens, I’m legally obligated to report it. If I help cover up a crime, I can be disbarred. Or worse.”
Kansas grinned. “Got it,” he said. “Ask for forgiveness, not permission.”
Lina’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not what I meant,” she said, her voice sharp. “And you know it.”
The room erupted in laughter.
Even Widow cracked a smile as Kansas held up his hands, still grinning. “Alright, alright,” he said. “I hear you. We’ll keep you in the dark about anything that could get you in trouble. But when shit hits the fan—and it will—we need you in our corner.”
Lina looked around the table, her gaze moving from Kansas to Blackjack to Whisper to Widow to Shadow, then she looked at me.
I met her gaze, unflinching.
Finally, she nodded. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll do it.”
Kansas’ grin widened. “Good,” he said. “Now let’s talk about tonight.”
Lina explained everything. How she’d confronted O’Rourke. How she’d handed him the evidence. How she’d threatened to bury the station in lawsuits if they didn’t drop the charges.
The brothers listened in silence, their expressions ranging from impressed to furious.
When she finished, I leaned forward. “What was in the folder?” I asked.
Lina’s gaze shifted to mine. “Everything,” she said.
“Bank transfers showing James Roberts paid Ruby Cooper ten thousand dollars. Text messages between Roberts and Ruby, coaching her on what to say to the police. Phone records proving Roberts coordinated with a woman named Sylvia St. James. And evidence that Roberts hired a registered sex offender named Marcus Lyle to actually rape Ruby—to make the allegations against you appear credible.”
The room went silent.
Completely, utterly silent.
Kansas’ face went pale. Blackjack’s jaw dropped. Whisper’s hands clenched into fists on the table. Widow’s expression turned murderous. Shadow just stared, his eyes wide.
“He what?” Kansas said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“He hired a sex offender to rape her,” Lina repeated, her voice steady. “So that when the rape kit came back, it would show evidence of trauma and sexual assault. So that the case against John would look airtight.”
Kansas stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. “That son of a bitch,” he said, his voice shaking with rage. “That fucking son of a bitch.”
“He wasn’t just threatening Monk,” Lina continued. “He was systematically destroying him. All to force John back into WITSEC.”
I stared at her, my chest tight. I’d known Roberts was dangerous. I’d known he was willing to go to extreme lengths to maintain control. But this? This was beyond anything I’d imagined.
Kansas paced the room, his hands clenched into fists. “We need to deal with this,” he said. “We need to—”
“No,” Lina said, her voice sharp.
Kansas stopped and turned to look at her. “No?” he repeated.
“No,” Lina said again. “You let me handle Roberts. Legally. Through the courts. If you go after him, you’ll give him exactly what he wants. A reason to come after the club with everything he’s got.”
Kansas stared at her for a long moment, and then he nodded slowly. “Fine,” he said. “But if he comes at us again.”
“He won’t,” Lina said. “Not after I’m done with him.”
Kansas exhaled slowly, then looked around the table. “Alright,” he said. “We’ve got enough to deal with tonight. The ATF arrest is still hanging over us. We need to figure out how they knew about the run. And we need to make sure this doesn’t blow back on the club.”
He looked at me.
“But for now,” he said, “we’re done. Church is over.”
I stood and walked over to where Lina was sitting, her hands folded in her lap, her expression exhausted, and held out my hand. “Come on,” I said. “Let’s go home, baby.”
She looked up at me, her eyes softening as she took my hand and stood.
We walked out of the church room together, past the brothers gathered in the main room, past the bikes parked in the compound. And as we climbed into her car and pulled out onto the road, heading back toward the Wilcox Farm where Tatum was waiting, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Hope. Because no matter what came next, no matter what battles we had to fight, what enemies we had to face, I knew one thing for certain.
I wouldn’t be facing it alone.
I had Lina.
I had Tatum.
I had my brothers, my family, and I’d be damned if I let anyone take that away from me.