Page 15 of Gunner

His lips twitched as if he was biting back what he wanted to say. “Why are you making this so difficult?”

“Tell me. If there was a list, and I’m not saying there is, what would you do with it?”

He fell silent, but him reaching for the beer mug was all the confirmation I needed.

“Exactly,” I said. “These men have made the club their home. As their president, I am ultimately responsible for their safety. I won’t just hand over their information to the cops. That wouldbe betraying them. Can you see that going down well with the others if I fuck them over?”

“You’d rather cover up for your men than obey the law?”

“That’s a stupid question, and you know.”

“And I’m supposed to admire your loyalty to your brothers?”

“Who gives a fuck what you think, Witter? I’ve lived by the code of the club for almost three decades. It’s going to take more than lukewarm begging from you to have me betray my brothers. A lot more.”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with protecting your brothers, does it?” Witter bit out. “You just don’t want to help me. It’s me. I’m the one you have beef with.”

Fuck, I needed to stop talking. He was already picking up on too much. “You’re not that special. Cops who start thinking they can change the world are not as scarce as people think, but eventually the world—the job—changes them.”

A boisterous group of six men—construction workers I was familiar with—ambled toward the bar. The rush hour was about to start, which was a good enough excuse to ignore Witter.

“Gunner, heard your club’s recruiting,” a stout man with a black septum pincher said.

“Yeah, but we already have enough ugly mugs around, Ace, so feel free not to apply.”

I poured them their poison, constantly aware of Witter despite ignoring him. Couldn’t he take a hint? When he signaled me, I threw the rag I used to wipe down the counter over my shoulder and walked over.

“It’s on the house,” I said. “You might want to get out of here before things turn ugly.”

“Actually, since you’re paying, I’d like another mug, but make it the good stuff this time, not that watered-down piss you gave me before.”

“It’d be your honor to drink my piss.”

Just as expected, the look of disgust was back as he narrowed his eyes to slits and curled his lips into a sneer. The more he despised me, the more I wanted to push him, to see him lose control and find out who the real Witter was. The man Mason had known and wanted.

“You know what, Gunner?” He leaned across the counter. “This preoccupation you have with me and sex makes me wonder if you’re really homophobic, or is that your way of not letting anyone find out you swing both ways?”

I didn’t blink an eye. “There are different reasons why men like me fuck.” I stared directly into his eyes and inched forward some more, eating up much of the space between us as I lowered my voice. “I may like to hold a man down and fuck him within an inch of his life. Doesn’t mean I’m into men. Just means I like to take the things that they think make them powerful and crush them beneath me. If you keep pursuing me like this and showing up everywhere I am, I’m going to take it as a challenge, and I’ll have to show you who’s really in charge.”

The blue in his eyes changed, turning a darker hue. I’d never seen anything quite like it before. Too stunned, I couldn’t look away.

“This guy bothering you, prez?” Tango appeared next to Witter, flanked by Mouse and Zero, who everyone suspected Mouse was fucking. They were way too close in such a short time.

I glanced from Tango to Witter. “Yeah. Get him the fuck out of here.”

“Can we permanently dispose of him?” Tango guffawed. They’d surrounded Witter, who got to his feet cautiously.

“Maybe that’s not a good idea, boys. After all, he’s not just a common cop. He’s the acting chief of police.” My voice dripped with enough sarcasm for them to know I didn’t give a fuck about Witter’s high-ranking position.

“Gunner, you son of a bitch!” Witter scowled as they grabbed his arms. “I just came here to talk.”

“I’ll talk when I’m ready and not when you say.”

I took up a bottle of vodka and poured myself a shot. Knocking it back only fed my craving for more. I swore under my breath. The last time I became a drunk, I’d fucked up the club, but I’d been trying to stay away from the hard stuff. Of course,hewould drive me to drink.

Witter struggled against the bikers. Had there been two of them, he possibly could have gotten out of the hold, but with three, he was trapped. His eyes locked on to mine, rage shimmering in their depths, as the three bikers muscled him toward the exit.

“You won’t get rid of me so easily, Gunner,” he shouted.

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