Page 37 of Keegan's Promise

As soon as they pull off with Tate and Coby in tow to watch over them, Giant jogs up the sidewalk toward me, his expression somber.

“You ready to go talk to Dillon and Jude?” he asks.

“Yeah.” I pull the door closed behind me. I’ve been putting off this conversation for the last few days, but I can’t put it off any longer. Before we get married, I want her to know that jail isn’t looming in her future. She deserves that peace of mind.

Giant is unusually quiet on the drive down to Dillon’s office…which worries the fuck out me. The man never shuts up. He’s been terrorizing this town since the day he planted roots.

“What’s up?” I finally growl, glancing over at him.

“Nothing. What’s up with you?”

“Cut the shit, Cormac. You’re being too fucking quiet. I know you know something.”

“Maybe I’m just a contemplative motherfucker.”

“Right. And pigs have wings.”

“Might.” He shrugs. “They can do all kinds of crazy shit with DNA now.”

I crack a smile despite myself. “Start talking, asshole.”

“Goddammit,” he mutters and then huffs a sigh. “Her uncle filed a missing person’s report in Dallas yesterday.”

“What the fuck? Why now?”

“Dillon thinks the MC may have spotted the DEA agent watching the club. If they know they’re planning to raid, then they’ve probably figured out where they got the intel from,” he says, his voice a worried rumble.

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, my grip tight on the steering wheel. Thanks to Finn and Ryker, finding the club didn’t take nearly as long as it might have. The FBI and DEA have been getting their ducks in a row to raid at the first sign of an auction. They wanted the buyers inside first, though, so they’ve been waiting and watching. “Dallas actually took the report?”

“They took it,” Giant says. “But they aren’t doing anything with it. They called Dillon about it.”

“Fuck,” I growl, swerving into the parking lot for the Sheriff’s Office. I pull into the first available space and then kill the engine before climbing from the truck, my heart pounding a million miles a minute.

Giant easily keeps pace beside me as I jog toward the doors. Neither of us bothers to stop long enough to ask for directions. Dillon’s always hiding out in the broom closet he swears no one can find him in. Hate to tell him…but that shit isn’t working. The whole goddamn town knows not to even both looking in his actual office for him. We just go straight to the closet to find him when we need him.

I rap my knuckles against the door, and then push it open without waiting for an invitation. Dillon is seated at the tiny desk with Easton, one of his detectives, leaning over his shoulder. Neither of them even looks in our direction.

“You have to click right there,” Easton says, jabbing his finger at the screen.

“I did click right there,” Dillon rumbles. “It didn’t do shit.”

“You didn’t click the right spot.”

“The hell I didn’t.”

“Just point the fucking mouse and click, Dillon. Jesus Christ,” Easton growls. “Before I sign you up for computer literacy classes for Christmas.”

“Do you want to be the next crossing guard over at the school, motherfucker? Because I can make that happen,” Dillon threatens.

Easton just chuckles, flicking his gaze up to glance at us. “Come look at this before I decide to let him make me the next crossing guard.”

“What is it?” Giant asks, stomping the few steps across the closet. But it’s impossible for him to wedge his big ass body behind the desk with Easton and Dillon, so he just leans over the front, craning his neck to see the screen. “Is that their compound?”

“Yep.” Dillon fiddles with the mouse again. “Dallas sent us aerial footage from their drone.”

I stride toward the desk, nudging Giant out of the way. He moves aside without complaint, allowing me to look at the screen. My heart feels like it’s lodged in my chest when I see the photos arrayed across the screen. They’re crystal clear…and grim as fuck.

“Jesus,” I mutter, staring at the massive fence surrounding the compound. Razor-wire tops it, with a goddamn moat dug around it on the interior side as if to make it that much harder for anyone to get in or out undetected. The warehouses scattered around look new. But most of the cabins are in dire need of repair. Or bombing.

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