Page 64 of Vengeful Mates
“Ride, my ass.” The undercover pig made a big show of stretching back his jacket to reveal his concealed weapon. “State your business.”
My bond zapped with electricity to get a word in and deck the cop, but I had to let my new man handle it. Test if he had the mettle to do this job.
“What’s yours? Pulling over innocent citizens?” Dash shot back, showing his irritation in the flash of his eyes.
Pleased fire curled through my veins at his answer.
“What’s in the truck?” The cop jerked his head at it.
“Furniture.” Dash took out a water bottle, unscrewing the cap. “Moving house. Got my four closest buddies here to help with the lifting.”
The cop shot his buddy an incredulous look. “Mind if we take a look?”
My bond burned white hot at the nerve of this cunt. No paperwork equaled no warrant. Fucker was bluffing us.
“Got a warrant?” Smooth. The answer I would have fired back. Dash handled the pressure well, like I deduced he would. Over and over, he proved to be the man I could rely on for our new chapter.
“Don’t need one,” the cop bluffed, rolling his shoulders.
Personal experience and court reports from Castor taught me these types of cunts tried all sorts of tactics to intimidate.
While Dash kept the asshole busy, Alaric landed, shifting into partial human form, moving in for the kill. Victorious explosions went off in my blood. Talons flexed, my road captain slashed the cop’s tires and moved away, shifting back into his hawk form and taking perch on a fence post.
Dash’s eyes narrowed, and he waggled a finger at the officer. “I know my rights. No paperwork, no examination of the truck, and we’ll be on our way. Thanks for wasting our time.”
The cop made a last-ditch effort to scam us, calling the radio from his belt and reported into it, “Officer 3913 calling for back-up.”
Total bluff. Asshole had no power, and he knew it. Intimidation, pure and simple if he called for another car.
Dash went back to his bike, prepping to leave, cuing his men and me to do the same. Engines throttled in a collectivefuck youto the cops. I checked over my shoulder, finding Alaric going up, keeping vigilance for us.
Riding away, I gave the assholes the middle finger, laughing to myself, watching in the mirror as one of the cops kicked his slashed tires.
Adios, fuckers.
They better not call in back-up… not that another vehicle could catch up with the distance from the station. Random highway patrol cars might. Or if they called in a report to another station on our delivery route.
Five miles down the stretch, Dash pulled over, his road captain removing maps to reroute the shipment. Safety precautions for situations like this. Alaric taught the men never to follow one route and always map out a series of paths.
Tense at our next move, I took a quick smoke break, standing by Dash. I scanned the road behind us. All quiet for now. Debris on the road a hundred feet back. The cop’s drone smashed to pieces. No wonder Dash pulled us over. We had the all-clear from tails.
Set rumbled with dark laughter inside me, and I sent a pleased tug up to Alaric as thanks.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I removed it, thinking it was Aaliyah calling to warn me that Dash’s mate had escaped.
“Castor calling,” the phone announced, and Dash shot me a concerned glance.
Fuck. Castor and Zethan were under strict orders not to contact me unless warning of problems. Something went wrong.
“Yeah?” I answered the call.
“Cookies crushed,” Castor advised. Code for one of our trucks was intercepted and raided.
“Iced Vovos?” We used the cookies with the pink marshmallow and sprinkled coconut to represent Brix because he was a useless, pussy cunt. I hoped to fucking hell that asshole went down.
“Snapped fingers,” Castor provided more information, and I clenched and pumped my fist. Brix and his crew were arrested.
“I guess we found our juicy center,” I replied, blood heating up at the arrows pointing to our fucking mole.
