Chapter 18
Grace is not out of my system.
If anything, she’s wormed her way in deeper. Like a fucking virus, she’s infiltrated my blood. Invading, attacking. It’s been three days since I fucked her, and I cannot get the woman out of my goddamn head.
Doesn’t help that I’ve been roped into her shit. That fuck would have killed her, had I not intervened. Men like Keegan. Like the Sinners. They don’t know when to quit. I told him to get the fuck out of my town, and he paid me a visit instead. At my fucking house. For a little chat, he said.
More bullshit I’ve been dragged into because of a fucking Donovan.
Despite that, Grace has become the unwelcome star of my every thought.
A fixation I can’t kick. One look from that woman, and my pulse punches against my chest and my fingers twitch to touch her.
It’s an itch I can’t scratch, gnawing at me in the quiet hours of the early morning, twisting into something I don’t want to name.
It’s a problem. These feelings are a problem.
I was ready to drop a fucking body for her.
But I’m out of her system.
Maybe I need her naked again. Tits bouncing. Eyes wide as I clamp my hand around her throat, those sweet little noises falling from her mouth. Maybe I need to handcuff her to my bed and keep her there until she’s out of my system like I’m out of hers.
“Don’t touch anything,” I bark at Murphy as we approach the Sinner clubhouse. Allen’s taking point, strutting ahead of me and Miller as Murphy treads behind us.
“I’m not an idiot,” Murphy snaps.
“We don’t have a warrant,” I remind him, “and if their lawyer’s in there, she’ll make sure no one cooperates.”
“I’ll handle that bitch,” Allen says. “She gets too mouthy, she’ll be on the floor with her hands behind her back just like the rest of them.”
“I’d uh, tread lightly on that one, Sergeant,” Miller pipes up. “Graves gets a little touchy when it comes to his woman.”
Allen chuckles. “If McKenna has a problem with how I do my job, he can come talk to me about it. My fists could use a little exercise anyway. But we’re not here for him.”
No, we’re here for Axe.
Allen yanks open the clubhouse door and steps inside, chest puffed, chin up, hand flirting with his sidearm. It’s the middle of the day, so the place is mostly empty, most of the Sinners working their day jobs.
Axe is sitting at his usual table in the back, attention on the woman perched on his lap.
His old lady. I wish she weren’t here. Allen seems to like using the women to get what he wants, and while Kat and I have had our share of run-ins, I don’t really want her to be subjected to any of Allen’s plans.
Especially since Triss is nowhere in sight, meaning there’s no one around to make sure we’re acting within the law.
It can be pretty easy sometimes to forget who the good guys are around here, what side I’m supposed to be on.
“Donovan,” Allen growls.
Axe glances up, face neutral, and scans the four police officers interloping on his territory.
His eyes meet mine briefly before settling on Allen.
He says nothing. His expression unchanging.
But there’s the slightest hint of a shift.
Allen wouldn’t notice it, but I’ve been reading Axe since we were teenagers.
It’s the clamp of his fingers tightening on Kat’s thigh, the subtle tick of his jaw.
“Sergeant Allen, I take it?” he says coolly.
Allen smiles. “Figured it’s about time we meet. I’ve got some questions for you.”
Axe hums. “I don’t remember extending an invite.”
“I don’t need an invite. I’m the police.”
“You wanna talk? Release my men. Otherwise, call my lawyer and set up an appointment.”
OPP’s been in town for two weeks, and Allen has made good on his promise to shake things up.
South Bay PD has been throwing out citations to anyone with a patch.
Going fifty-five in a fifty, exhaust too loud, parking violations, jaywalking.
And then there’s the more serious shit. Two possession charges, a parole violation that’ll end in a jail sentence unless Triss talks the judge into community service, and a weapons charge.
All small fish, though. A couple prospects, an old-timer, and a Sinner with no priors.
It’s not good enough. Allen wants the heavy hitters. He wants real jail time.
Axe hasn’t retaliated. Yet. But a storm is brewing. I can practically smell it in the air. Like I warned Allen, pissing off a man like Axe has consequences. Back the Sinners into a corner, and there will be violence. It’s just a matter of when and who bleeds for it when shit finally settles.
“What’s going on?” It’s Grace’s voice that pulls my attention away from the Sinner president.
Fuck. Me.
She’s wearing another one of her ridiculously short skirts.
A skirt I want to rip off. With my fucking teeth.
I exhale through my nose as I take in the tight tank top hugging the smooth contours of her body and dipping low on her chest. And the curve of her throat, of course.
Perfectly exposed with her hair pulled up and out of her face.
I can’t help but stare at it, remember how nice it looks when I’m squeezing it.
Predictably, she keeps her attention away from me. I’m doing with Grace the same thing Allen’s planning with the Sinner women. Using her. She’s a tool in my mission to bring down her brother. The difference is I know what her pussy tastes like. That probably makes me the bigger asshole.
“No lawyers, Donovan. We talk now, or I throw you in a cell. You’d be shocked at how long I can keep you in there just by sitting on your paperwork. And lose the sluts.” Allen jerks his head at Kat and Grace. “Your little biker whores got no place in this conversation.”
Shit. Here we fucking go.
Eyes flashing, Axe plucks Kat off his lap and pushes to his full height. “Don’t think you can come in here and disrespect me, or my people, without consequence,” he says, voice steady. “This is my fucking house.”
“That sounded a bit like a threat, don’t you think?” Allen asks me.
Grace’s angry eyes snap to me and hold. She’s doing that thing again.
Waiting for me to be the good guy. Maybe to defuse the situation and put Allen in his place.
But self-preservation is a hell of an incentive to be a piece of shit.
There is no way I’ll come to Axel Donovan’s defence in front of the man gunning to take down the dirty cop in the department.
“I heard it.” I smirk.
That earns me a scathing look from Grace.
Ignoring her, I take out my cuffs. “Turn around, Donovan.”
Kat steps between us, fists clenched. “No one’s taking him. Not again.”
“Easy, Kitty,” Axe says, locking eyes with me. “Just a couple assholes looking to throw their dicks around. I’ll be out by dinner.”
She shakes her head, a tremble in her voice when she speaks. “I just got him back. No one is taking him.”
Murphy moves towards her, grabbing her roughly by the arm. Axe reacts almost immediately, lunging towards them, but Allen’s ready, and practically tackles him to the ground. Like it was his plan. Touch his girl, make him get violent, give us a reason to put him in cuffs.
But it’s Grace who frees Kat from the hand restraining her.
“Hands off, asshole.” She pushes Murphy back. “You are not getting her alone in that fucking cell.”
Before Murphy can respond, I grab Grace and twist her around, then cuff her hands behind her back.
“Thought we talked about that attitude, Grace,” I murmur with a nod to Kat. “Got anything else to say?”
Kat only purses her lips, focus steady on Axe, who Allen’s got pressed to the ground, knee digging into his back, hands cuffed.
“Didn’t think so. You good?” I ask Allen.
He hauls a furious Axe to his feet and jerks him towards the door. “He rides with us. Murphy, take the She-Donovan and throw her in that cell she likes so much.”
My muscles lock up. The idea of Grace handcuffed and sharing space with Murphy is doing something funny to my chest. Funny like how I felt three nights ago when I saw a man’s hands on her, trying to take her, to hurt her, and I almost ended his fucking life.
Right there in the street. It’s like a tingle, a pull on my stomach.
Lungs tightening, heart lurching. And then all anger.
Blood-boiling, pulse-throttling, need-to-kill-something kind of rage.
And right now, I want to fucking kill something.
Deep fucking breaths.
I bite down on my tongue and keep my attention averted as Grace is forcefully yanked out of the clubhouse.
“Watch him with her,” I murmur to Miller, who nods and follows Murphy out.
By the time we get to my cruiser, Axe has got a bloody nose. Self-defence, Allen said.
The drive to the station is quiet. Allen is smug. Axe is pissed and bleeding. I’m just trying to stay on the road while constantly checking my rearview to confirm the cruiser behind me doesn’t turn off and take a detour with Grace in the back.
If he touches her… If anyone fucking touches her.
Axe glares at me the whole way, practically burning a hole into the back of my head. I don’t need to guess how this’ll end for me. Axe is going to kick my shit in.
When we pull into the South Bay PD parking lot, Allen turns to me. “Put him in the interrogation room. And turn the cameras off.”
“You got it,” I say with a dip of my chin. “Want me in there?”
Allen tilts his head thoughtfully, but then smiles and says, “Stick to what you’re good at, Decker. Paperwork and speeding tickets.” Without another word, he pushes out of the car, leaving me alone with Axe.
“You forget who you fucking work for,” Axe says, voice low. The anger imbued in his tone pokes at that place again. The one I’m trying so hard to keep dead and buried. The one full of fury. Blood-boiling rage. “I told you I expect a warning when the law is about to kick down my fucking door.”
I wheel around, glaring at him through the open partition separating the back seat from the front.
“And I told you that Allen doesn’t trust me.
What the fuck you want me to do?” I huff.
“I didn’t know shit until I was already chauffeuring that prick over to pick you up.
You want me on his good side, then I need an arrest. A good one.
You’ve given me nothing, so whatever happens in that room today is on you. ”
“You got four of my guys in jail, Decker.”
“For bullshit. Triss will have most of them out by the end of the day. If you want me on the inside, then someone needs to fall on a sword. Make a fucking sacrifice. Because he’s gonna keep coming, and I won’t have the intel to stop whatever he’s got planned for you.”
Axe is quiet for a long minute, scowl firmly set. Eventually, he dips his head back on the seat and lets out a long sigh. “What’s this about?”
“One of your cars got picked up. OPP found it parked out in your usual spot near the off-ramp. Product still in the trunk. Nothing to trace back to anyone yet, but you can bet they’re pulling the thing apart.”
“That’s just fucking great,” he mutters.
Another long pause, and then he says, “Fine. I’ll give you your arrest. But I swear, Deck, if I end up back in jail because you can’t steer this moron in another direction, then your usefulness to me will have run its course.
You fuck this up, and I will kill you. You feel me? ”
I snort. “Yeah, I feel you.”
When I open the back door and he pushes out, we’re nose to nose, his big dumb face inches from mine, muscles flexing. But Axel Donovan is a lot less menacing when he’s in handcuffs and I’m the one with the gun.
“You think I’m bluffing?” he asks.
“No. But I bet I could get the drop on you.”
“I die, and you know what happens.”
My gut turns over. Yeah, all that shit he has on me gets sent to the chief. And maybe every news outlet on this side of the country. He ends up dead, then I might as well be too. Not much room for a man like me in prison.
I shrug. “Maybe I’ll take my chances.”
It’s his turn to smile. “You do that. But I’ll warn you now. You take a shot at the king, you better not miss.”
“Oh, I’ve got plenty good aim, Axe. As you know.”
I press two fingers into his shoulder, and when I hit his old bullet wound, he flinches. Satisfaction rolls through me. A weakness. A little twinge of pain, maybe every time he moves that arm. It’s really nice knowing the discomfort he feels is because of me.
I twist him around and shove him towards the PD entrance. Once he’s settled in the interrogation room, cameras off, I head to the basement cell to pay a little visit to the other Donovan.
Grace and I need to have a chat.