Page 9 of Death's Deal

Chapter 6

“In 79 AD, the eruptionof Vesuvius caused the destruction of Pompeii, Herculaneum, and the surrounding towns. Thousands died in the initial moment, thousands more in the hours that followed from the second eruption, and even at this time we have only scratched the surface on the area covered by the volcano’s violence,” our teacher, Maria De La Cruz, droned on about a dead civilization that meant no more than yesterday’s breakfast to me.

Toni leaned in, tickling her tongue along my ear, sending a shiver up my spine. Whispering quietly, she asked, “After classes and practice, do you want to head to the pier, or do you need to go to the clubhouse?”

Running my hand up her skirt, touching the soft lace of her panties, the sound of her breath hitching while her body tensed in reaction was music to my ears. And my cock.

Nothing was better than hearing her come, hearing her fall apart because of my touch.

Nothing.

She loved it when I teased her in class, in a moment when she couldn’t speak up, when she couldn’t let on her body was on the edge of release.

Resting forward on my elbow, leaning toward Toni, I answered her, “I don’t need to go to the club—”

Just as I was about to finish, the door to class opened, causing our teacher to stop. Arresting my feathering movements of Toni, the entrance of three very solidly built officers strode in with purpose.

Moving directly to the teacher, the first officer, a black man with a thick moustache, eyes the room. His heated gaze landed on each of the boys, one by one from left to right until he fell on me. Solid and fixed, his sight didn’t shift from mine, even as he stepped to talk quietly with Ms. De La Cruz. The two other officers stood in the doorway, effectively blocking it with their thick frames. Neither cared to look at anyone but me, and I was unsure of why I’d garnered this attention. Sure, my dad was an MC president, and that put myself and my sister as a part of that club instinctually in law enforcement’s crosshairs, but other than boosting the odd bike for kicks I stayed within the rule of law. Football demanded it. You kept your nose clean or you were off the team. I’d worked too hard to be the captain, and I was working on a scholarship to CalTech. I had dreams that didn’t include the club. I wanted to be more. To have more.

Toni and I talked of our escape. The two of us had been saving our cash away, squirrelling it so we could escape our families. She wanted out of the limelight, out of the way from her family’s political arena. Me? The club was the last thing I wanted to be a part of for life. If it was at all avoidable, we’d get out.

“Bennett.” Calling out my name, Ms. De La Cruz turned her attention to where I was seated. “These gentlemen are here to escort you out of class.”

“Do I get a fucking phone call before they take me?” I snidely asked the overstuffed cop staring down our teacher. Carefully handing my phone to Toni under the desk, I knew she’d understand to call J and to make sure my dad knew what was going on.

I had the feeling I’d need a lawyer.

Striding toward me with intent, the assuming officer with his wide hips and gun belt rapping off the seats as he passed pulled free his cuffs. With a growly tenor he snarled, “Your call will be at the station. Let’s not make this difficult, son.”

“Unless your family has blue-eyed blonds in their past, I doubt I’m your son,” I replied sarcastically. Standing my ground when he didn’t react to my comment, I asked, “What’s going on?”

With a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes, the hulking form of the asshole cop stopped darkly beside my desk. “Bennett Quinlan Crow, you are under arrest for possession of narcotics with the intent to distribute. You have the right to remain silent—” He paused.

Yanking me by the shoulders to rise, he continued on as he attached the first cuff on my wrist, “You have the right to an attorney.”

His voice continued to drone on with my Miranda rights as Toni leaned in to say, “I’ll call my dad. I’ll get you a lawyer. It’ll be okay, Bennett.”

“Tell J,” I said as the second clamp flung around my wrist.

I knew my sister. Jazmine would get a message out to the club, to our father, and in turn that would get a message directly to our lawyer. I’d be fine.

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