1. Deacon
DEACON
“Deacooooon!”
I left Dallas’s voice in the dust. Blood rushed through my ears as I tore through the sheriff’s blockade, swerving around their police cruisers. The wind sped past me, threatening to tear open my skin as I made a break for the precinct.
And the entire time, I heard shouting behind me.
“Deac! Wait up!”
“Come on, guys. She needs our help!”
“Get out of the fucking way, Nielson!”
Sirens whooped behind me. Lights flashed, paving the way toward the brick building that housed the bitch in question.
My blood boiled beneath my skin. My mind dreamt of a thousand different ways to kill that bitch.
I wanted my hands wrapped around Marcie’s neck.
I wanted to shake her until she snapped in half before feeding her to the fucking desert vultures.
She deserved the exact fate she gave Bait, as far as I was concerned.
But when the precinct finally came into view, I saw that van.
That black, unmarked, tinted windows, goddamn piece of motherfucking shit van.
I’d kill Nielson for giving that thing back to her.
Hold on, little one. We’re coming.
I abandoned my bike with the engine still churning. I burst through the precinct doors as deputies and trainees alike tried getting in my way.
“Move,” I growled as I shoved my arm out, pushing someone out of the way.
All I could think about was my good little Char, tucked away in a cell somewhere rotting in someone else’s piss for something she never did.
“Deacon, you really need to settle down for a second. Take a breath.”
A deputy fell in line beside me, but I shoved my arm out.
I pushed him into the nearest supply closet and closed the door before I tore toward the door that housed the holding cells behind it.
And as I lumbered down the hallway, I gritted my teeth together.
I balled up my fists. I’d make that bitch pay for everything she did to Char.
If there were marks on that woman’s body, someone in Marcie’s family would die.
For every tear that streaked Char’s perfect little cheek, I’d mail a piece of that special agent bitch’s body to her goddamn boss.
I’d ruin her life. They’d never stop finding her, so long as they lived.
I thought about how good her blood would smell, tainting the floor of our fucking basement.
“Char!” I bellowed as I rounded the corner.
The door to the holding cells came into view before someone slipped in front of me.
“Nielson called me,” the teensie little officer said as she gazed up at me. “He says you could use something to eat. Maybe a drink?”
My eyes narrowed to slits. The woman had placed her hand on my forearm. “Why don’t you come with me? We can get you guys something up the road. Or I can run out and bring it back.”
I looked down at our connection. At her callused hands gracing my forearm. My nostrils flared. My eye twitched. Was this woman serious?
“No,” I said plainly as I gripped her uniform.
“Wait, wait, wait. Deacon. Deacon! Put me down!”
I picked her clear up off her feet and sat her down in the nearest interrogation room. “I’ll come back with my order.”
“Deacon, wait!” the woman exclaimed.
I whipped the door closed, grabbing the nearest chair, and shoved it underneath the doorknob.
“Goddamn it, Deacon! Open this fucking door before I blow it the fuck off!” the officer shrieked.
I turned toward the door. The only obstacle standing in between me and Char. Four steps was all it took to get me in front of that doorknob. One grasp of my hand was all it took to encompass the cold silver staring back at me.
But it was Marcie’s voice that froze me in place.
“You know, I could charge you for destruction of private property.”
I peered over my shoulder and found that snarky little bitch standing behind me in the hallway with a satisfied smile plastered over her features.
I couldn’t wait to turn that smile upside down on her dumbass-looking face.
“Let her go,” I commanded.
Marcie tilted her head as she slid her hands into her pockets. “I could also get you for manhandling that deputy back there. Though, that isn’t quite how we phrase it around my parts.”
Did she really threaten me with assault on a fucking officer? “Let. Char. Out.”
She clicked her tongue. “No can do, hoss. Accomplices are just as guilty as?—”
I moved swiftly, shoving myself away from the door as I got into her face. She gasped. Marcie actually gasped, and as her eyes widened, I placed my hand on the wall above her head, pinning her there with a look.
“Over my dead fucking body she’s an accomplice,” I hissed.
That’s when the bitch grinned. “I can arrange that if you’d like. I think you and I both know that.”
My hand slid down the wall, closer to her neck. “You goddamn motherfucking bitch.”
She giggled with delight. “Go on. I dare you. Let’s see how quickly I can get you thrown in with your little fucktoy, yeah?”
“I’m going to kill you!” I bellowed.
I barely got my hands toward her neck before a brute force slammed against my forearms.
“Don’t let her bait you, Deac!” Dallas exclaimed.
I watched Gauge’s arm slam down against my own before a pair of arms wrapped around me from behind.
The person damn near picked me up off my feet, and I growled as I swung my legs around in the air.
Marcie cackled with delight, like a fucking toddler watching a shitshow of an episode on Sesame Street.
And all I wanted was her blood dripping to the floor.
“Put me down!” I roared.
“Rat, take Marcie!” Dallas barked. “Gauge, get Deac’s feet if he kicks again. Mace!”
“Yep?”
“Go get Nielson. We’d like to see Char.”
“Let me go, goddamn it! Let me at that bitch!” I snarled.
“Come here,” Gauge growled.
His hands twisted into my leather jacket before he yanked me out of the pair of arms that had enough strength to pick me clear up from the ground.
I whipped around in the air before my back slammed against the wall, and I swear to hell on high that the entire ground shook with the force.
Gauge’s glare stopped me cold, and I listened as Marcie’s cackling disappeared down the hallway.
Then the most amazing sound appeared.
“Shut the fuck up out there!”
Char screamed out from behind the holding cell door and everyone froze.
Everything froze. Time itself seemed to stand still as her voice finally dawned upon me.
I shoved Gauge with all the force of the gods and rushed the door.
The building shook as the wall caught Gauge’s stumbling body, and I jiggled the locked doorknob before I knocked quickly on the metallic surface.
“Char!” I said as I kept knocking. “Are you all right!?”
“I’m fine,” she said flatly, “but you being back here with me isn’t gonna do you a damn bit of good. So cut it the fuck out.”
I stopped the knocking. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you thirsty? Hungry? Do you need?—?”
“I’m fine!” she exclaimed.
She didn’t sound fine, though. “What can I get you? What do you need?”
I heard her sigh heavily before her voice sounded. And that time, it felt more grounded than the other times she spoke.
“Well, if someone could let my lawyer back here when they get here, that’d be great.”
Jesus Christ, that’s right. Nielson said she already lawyered up.
“Like I said,” Marcie said as she strolled behind me, chewing on something that made my skin prickle with anger, “accomplices are just as guilty as those who actually commit a crime.”
“Accomplice?” Dallas asked.
Marcie nodded before she walked away from me, and I pivoted with her.
I watched her like a goddamn hawk as she walked over to Dallas and gave him the old one-two with her eyes.
My nose wrinkled. Dallas held his head high as Gauge’s hand mindlessly ventured to his gun.
And as Rat tapped Gauge’s arm, giving him a quick shake of the head, I watched Marcie lean into Dallas.
I took a few steps in his direction to hear what she said.
“Yeah, accomplice,” Marcie said as she lowered her voice. “Guess you should’ve thought about that before sticking your dick in her.”
“You goddamn motherfucking bitch,” Dallas hissed.
“No!” Gauge and I exclaimed together.
We lunged at him, grabbing his arms before we dragged him down the hallway away from the special agent.
Dallas kicked his legs and flung absolute obscenities in her direction.
Shit that would’ve made my father blush, for fuck’s sake.
He tried yanking away from us, but we doubled down.
I leaned the full force of my body weight against him just to get him around the fucking corner.
And as that woman’s disgusting cackle followed us, I pinned Dallas to the wall with my forearm against his throat.
“Even breaths,” I said.
Dallas clapped his hands against my biceps. “She’ll never get away with this.”
“No, she won’t.”
“She’ll never get away with this!” he shouted.
“No, she won’t,” Gauge reiterated.
Dallas drew in a short breath to say something, but then his eyes got locked over my shoulder.
“Deac, look,” Gauge said as he patted my shoulder.
The clicking of the heels caught my attention before anything else did.
I peered over my shoulder, refusing to let go of Dallas just in case he had any other ideas.
Marcie was mine to kill, not his. I claimed her first, and I’d be the one to draw first blood.
That was my right as President. But as a woman with big ass curly brown hair and brown features to match strolled on by with her briefcase gripped in her hand, my arm fell away from Dallas’s throat.
The three of us peeked back around the corner.
“I hear my services were summoned,” the woman said.
I watched Marcie link her arm with that woman’s before they headed in the opposing direction.
But not before Marcie looked back over her shoulder and tossed me a wink.
My fingertips burned. I wanted to pluck that woman’s eyes out with my goddamn fingernails.
I watched her disappear into the fluorescent lighting of the hallway with that woman, and I wondered what the fuck Marcie fed Char’s lawyer.
Because it didn’t take a genius to know who that pencil-skirt-suited woman was.
“Why don’t you guys go home, get some rest,” Sheriff Nielson said as he slipped past us. “There’s nothing you guys can do here until Char talks with her lawyer and is processed, anyway.”
I ripped away from the guys and turned on the balls of my feet.
As much as I hated to admit it, Nielson was right.
Now it was just a waiting game until we could come up with our next moves.
Our next plan. And as I stormed toward the exit, I vowed vengeance upon everyone working against Char.
Or us, for that matter. There’d be no more compromise.
No more second chances. No more laws dictating what I chose to do.
The only thing that would dictate my next actions were Char’s well-being and innocence.
No more handouts.
No more understanding.
No more mercy.
It was time to end this the way my father would have.
By protecting the family, and no one else.