Page 53 of Blood

“Sore.” I place a hand on my crotch and bare my teeth. “He got a bit rough.” More chuckles.

“Do you have anyone who can corroborate this?”

I point behind me and frown. “Diamond gave me some aloe to put on it.” I lift my hands and shrug. I don’t have to look at Callan to know he’s wearing that smirk.

“That’s true. And cranberry juice. It helps keep things healthy down there.” One of the blonde triplets points a long red nail at the officer.

“That’s not what I meant.” He blows out a frustrated breath, shaking his head. “Fine. Thanks for your cooperation. We may be in touch.”

“Oh, kinky. I can write you a play-by-play if you’d like.” I wink.

“I’ll take a copy of that,” Dodger drawls.

The officer notices the cameras and gestures around the room. “Are these recording? Do you have last night’s footage?”

“Oh my god, now he wants their sex tape. They’re not Pam and Tommy!” one of the triplets squeals.

Callan grins, enjoying the torment. “The cameras at the gates only begin recording if there’s movement. Since it was early morning, we’d have been preoccupied either sleeping or fucking. There was no movement, hence no recordings.”

“I’m pretty sure you’d need a warrant for that either way,” Kitty interjects, and I feel lighter seeing her.

“Thanks for your time,” the second officer says, trying to get out of here as fast as possible. I follow Callan to the front door, not wanting to let him out of my sight until I get the answers to my questions. The summer sun is brutal. The heat soaks into my skin as we step out, making me instantly sweat. The unmistakable rumble of bikes vibrates through the air as more brothers arrive. The gates open, and a parade of bikes pull through. A man resembling a yeti pulls his motorcycle right up to the tips of the officer’s boots.

“What did I miss?” His cut reads: Monster, Road Captain.

“Not much. The officers outstayed their welcome and now they’re leaving,” Grease informs him.

“Still walking?” Monster asks, flicking his gaze over them both. The younger one pales.

“Is that a threat against an officer?” the older of the two demands, his hand hovering close to the piece on his hip.

“I’m pretty sure he is wondering if you are walking or driving.” I bat my lashes, twirling a strand of hair.

“Like the bitch said,” Monster guffaws.

A truck pulls in and drives around the side of the building, its meaty engine roaring past us.

“Maybe we should take a look around.”

“I’ve been gracious, but unless you have a warrant, you can be on your way. And tell Chief Webber I said hi.”

Without another word, they make their way back to their car. The lights flash, and a sharp siren slices through the air before they drive out the gate. I blow out a hard breath, releasing it from my lungs.

Dismounting their bikes, each member shakes Callan’s hand and slaps him on the back. “How’d it go?” he asks Monster. I feel awkward lingering, but I don’t want Callan to disappear before telling me everything.

“The truck is full.” Monster rubs his hands together.

“Dodger, call Church.” Callan grins.

“On it.”

“Who’s the bitch?” Monster jerks his chin to me, and I answer for him.

“Rogue. A friend of Kitty’s.” I extend a hand, and he grabs on to it and tugs me into his body. God only knows how long he’s been on the road and what the fuck he participated in while out there, but he smells like a rotten jock strap.

“Where is the little minx? She owes me a game. Cleared me out before I left,” he grumbles.

“There’s time for that later. Right now, we talk business.” Callan unhooks the man’s paws from around me and meets my eyes with his. “I’ll be back soon and we can talk.” Then he disappears with the new arrivals.

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