Page 110 of Daughters of Chaos

I see the Sheriff's jaw tense as he appraises my father. "Yeah, guess so. Seems the Bastards' VP was vying for a promotion. He reached out to my office a while back spewing some story thathisclubpresident was going off the rails. Said Scar was getting his boys into shady shit and taking things down a road none of them wanted.

"Said he had evidence to put his Prez behind bars for life. Claimed he and the others never wanted any part of it, but Scar forced them into a world of crime. We figured he was just trying to use our office to take out the boss so he could step in to lead the gang."

What the fuck?

His eyes study the man before him, looking for any reaction. When he doesn't get it he adds, "Also mentioned you and Scar used to be good buddies. Ran in the same crowds, got locked up together a time or two. Care to enlighten me,Prez?"

This was bad. This was very, very bad. Who knew what the hell Dom told the cops. What evidence he had that could put the Sons behind bars. What the Sheriff could now use against them . . .

My stomach sinks, but Dad keeps his cool. I watch in astonishment as the Sons' leader gives nothing away.

With a shrug, he tells the Sheriff, "Scar and I grew up together. Used to be friends. Joined the Sons around the same time. Got into a few scuffles along the way. We had a falling out years ago, though. He thought the club was going to be some cool criminal enterprise that would earn him clout and get him laid. He fucked off and made his own club when he found out the Sons were just a bunch of guys who liked Harleys and beer a little more than the average Joe."

He chuckles as he tapers off his response, delivering the lie so well that I almost believe him. Harding doesn't seem as impressed as he huffs out a breathy laugh of his own. "So, you claim the Sons are squeaky clean then?"

Dad's mouth twitches as he replies, "Well, not quite."

My heart rate doubles as I listen. Fear starts seeping in.What the fuck is he doing?

"It's awful hard to stay squeaky clean with motor oil on your hands and under your nails," Dad says with a broad grin.

He’s toying with the Sheriff and making my anxiety spike.Cheeky fucker. Harding is less than amused, and everyone can see his scowl deepen. Dad won't slip up; we all know it, the Sheriff included. So, after several beats of silence, he nods a few times and continues.

"Funny how Dom's little mutiny turned out. Got into a shootout with Scar's boys in a lot surrounded by old gas and propane tanks. Blew everyone to kingdom come."

"No one ever accused Dom of being very smart," Dad replies.

"'Spose not. Starting a firefight in a lot filled with explosives isn't exactly brilliant work for someone looking to take over a club. Almost like he didn't plan it at all."

Dad smirks at the Sheriff. "Is it protocol to discuss the details of an active investigation with civilians? Or are you trying to butter me up for somethin'?"

He nods to the car sitting a few meters away. "The cruiser need engine work or an oil change? Is that why you're here? Tryin' to exchange case details for a free tune-up?"

A grumble escapes Harding's lips as he sneers at Viper. "Just delivering a friendly message."

"And that is?"

"Yourclubdoesn't have to worry about the Desert Bastards anymore. But the next time I catch wind that a motorcycle gang is disturbing the peace inmycity, I know right where to find you,Viper."

Somehow, Dad's face gives nothing away as he meets the Sheriff's eye. "Message received."

The men continue their staring contest until the Sheriff finally walks to his car. He stops short after opening the door and callsout once again. "Keep your boys in line, Elias! If any of them puts so much as one toe out of line, I'll come down on you with everything I've got."

Dad brings two fingers to the side of his forehead in a mock salute. "10-4, officer."

With one last glare, Harding hops in his cruiser and tears off, leaving us reeling. "He gonna be a problem?" Miguel asks.

"No. Just spread the message that we all need to lay lower than usual. Gotta be on our best behavior until this mess with the Bastards blows over. I'll contact our boys inside and make sure they double down on clean-up. Nothing from that warehouse will lead back to us."

I hope he's right. The Sheriff is gunning for the Sons; that much is clear. He'd take great pleasure in locking every last one of them up and throwing away the key. The thought fills me with dread. They're not the most law-abiding citizens, for sure, but they're my family.

The one I never asked for.

The one I thought I could live without.

The one I never want to give up.

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