Page 80 of Claimed By the Biker Brothers

I can already hear boots thudding all over the place. The ground floor is overly saturated with DEA windbreakers. Doors are opened. Cabinets are pried open. Drawers are damn near shattered as they’re pulled out. They’re not being nice about this.

“The entirecommercialproperty,” Jagger says, checking the warrant as well. “The upstairs apartment has recently been changed to a residential unit. We’ve got the paperwork for that in our office.”

“Your office is ours too,” Spalding replies with a cold smirk.

“Fucking knock yourself out,” Jagger says. “We’re not hiding anything.”

Somebody breaks a door down somewhere in the basement. The thudding and crashing echoes throughout the room, leaving everyone quiet and uneasy. Ellie frowns as she looks at Agent Spalding.

“Can I see your badge, sir?” she asks him.

“Who the hell are you?” he gives her an irritated look.

“A concerned citizen. I’d like to see your credentials. You are obligated by law to produce them.”

Where is this spunk coming from? I’m speechless, stunned. I simply stare and try to make sense of the rapidly unfolding situation as the club’s members are gradually checked for identification by other agents then sent outside while they continue with their search.

“Here,” Spalding scoffs and shows her his badge.

I can see Ellie’s lips moving as she makes a mental note of the badge number. “Thank you,” she says, then moves away from the counter when one agent comes in to search on that side, as well. “Don’t break any glasses,” she tells them. “It’s a health and safety hazard.”

“Relax, I know what I’m doing,” the guy says.

Almost a second later, he knocks over a glass. It crashes onto the floor.

“Hey, careful, guys!” Spalding says to his agents. “We don’t want to end up with a bill for damages, alright? Search every nook and cranny, but let’s leave this place standing once we’re done.” He sets his sights on me next while Diesel checks the warrant. A third pair of eyes can’t hurt. “And who are you?”

“Robyn,” I reply. “Robyn Russo.”

“Russo. Where have I heard that name before?” he mutters, trying to think. My stomach tightens into a heavy lead ball. I hate this part. I absolutely hate this part. “Calvin Russo. Right. You’re his wife, then? Wasn’t he a Rogue Rider?”

“Ex-wife,” I say. “And yes, he is aformerRogue Rider. He’s no longer affiliated with the club, and I have a restraining order against him for both myself and my daughter.”

He nods slowly. “And did I hear correctly that you live upstairs?”

“That is correct. Like you were just informed, I live in a unit that is now residential,” I say, my tone clipped while my eyes work to register as many details as possible. It’s difficult to focus with all this commotion, but I still take mental notes.

“What is your relationship to the Rogue Riders?” Spalding asks.

“I’m sorry, am I being questioned without a lawyer present?” I reply. “Am I person of interest or what?”

“No, ma’am; I’m just asking.”

“Then it’s none of your goddamn business what my relationship is,” I shoot back.

Knox gives him a vicious look. “I suggest you keep to the scope of your warrant, Agent, otherwise, we’ll be forced to file a complaint against you and the agency. I’m told your superiors no longer take kindly to agents who don’t do everything by the book.”

“Yeah, they’re considered rogues without jurisdiction,” Ellie mutters, still scowling at Spalding. “They don’t even provide them with legal counsel anymore.”

“And how do you know so much about the DEA?” Spalding replies, paying close attention to Ellie for the first time.

She replies with a shrug. “I’m from Detroit, man. I’ve seen how you fellas act over there. I watch the news.”

“Agent Spalding,” one man says as he comes out of the basement.

Oh, no. He seems rather pleased with himself as he holds up a large brown bag.

“Jackpot?” Spalding asks, grinning with excitement.

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