Page 40 of Brick's Redemption

“Where’s Mike?”

“Trying to sort things out with the detectives called in.”

Shit. That was the last thing we needed.

I heard Mike shouting as a couple of guys in official-looking FBI jackets walked up to us.

“Are you Brick Mayfield?”

I nodded. “Why?”

“We need to speak to you downtown.”

“I’d rather not,” I groaned, preferring not to leave Ginny.

“It’s not an option,” the shorter guy with spiky dark hair informed me.

“You’re wanted in relation to the triple homicides that occurred tonight at three separate locations in the city. Reported gang activity.” I received a glare from the one who spoke, taller and more athletic in build. “Motorcycle gang, to be exact.”

I snorted. “Well, as you can see, I’m a bit busted up from someone blowing up my fucking clubhouse.”

Neither man appeared to care.

“We brought Dag Holden in an hour ago. You might want to cooperate.”

Dagger? Shit!

“The fuck?” I asked, sitting up as my entire body ached.

The detective with the spikey haircut shrugged. “It’s in your best interest to ride along willingly.”

Yeah, I bet they fucking wanted me to go without causing a scene.

“Brick.”

I turned to Ginny and slid my arm around her. “She goes with us.” I wasn’t leaving her alone and vulnerable. The Crimson Skulls could be close, watching to see how this shit all played out and for a chance to get to her during the chaos that unfolded.

Big Mike looked like he had enough shit to deal with without adding Ginny to the pile he had to juggle.

The taller FBI agent gestured to the road, where I could see a dark car with heavily tinted windows. These two agents hit every fucking cliché I’d ever seen or heard about the FBI.

“Ginny, we’re takin’ a ride.”

“You sure you’re okay to get up?”

I probably looked as bad as I felt, and that was shitty. But I could handle it. I’d been through worse. “Yeah, Babygirl.” I lowered my voice so only she could hear. “Best if we don’t stick around for the Crimson Skulls to find. Yeah?”

“Good call.”

Ginny gripped my hand the entire ride. I kept the conversation minimal, not wanting to say anything that could be used against the club, me, or Dag. We pulled up to the local precinct, and the two agents exited. They led us inside and immediately separated Ginny from me.

“Hey,” I protested as Ginny was ushered away. I knew they would do it, and it meant she was safe. Hard to argue with that. Still, I had to appear frustrated by it.

“Time for a chat, Mayfield.”

For the next two hours, I answered zero questions and rattled off a few of my own. At the end of it, they booked me for not cooperating. Something else I knew would happen.

Now, I had to make bail. I could cover it, but I decided to use my phone call with an old friend of Judge’s. Someone I met only a few times but I knew would want to know about the Crimson Skulls, the attack on our clubhouse, and Judge’s death.

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