Page 70 of Ink's Devil

“Only by trapping herself. As you said, they’ve got me on possession. I’m a Devil, they’re not going to cut me loose. We’ll both end up fucked.” Or not, I think with disappointment.

“You don’t make my life easy.”

“That’s why we pay you so much,” I mutter under my breath.

“This brother of hers. You think he might be involved? Have you got the club checking him out?”

“I haven’t spoken to anyone in the club.” I haven’t had a chance.

“Of course, you haven’t,” he confirms. “It’s early. Forgive me. I’ll speak to Demon and give him the heads-up. Trouble is, Ink, we don’t know how much the cops saw. Did they see you take the rucksack from someone? If so, they’ll be trying to find out who it was.”

“The fucker who was expecting the delivery held a gun on me,” I tell him. “They might have seen that. I had no option but to pass the bag over.”

“Useful.” His hands move in the way the prez’s son, Theo, does when he wants something. A ‘gimme more’ gesture.

“I found the bag and was taking it to the cops? The dealer saw me?” I think more. “A fucker was coming along, saw me and Sparky, dropped the bag and ran? That’s why I picked it up?”

“That’s something I can work with. Of course, it all hinges on how much they witnessed. Any cameras that might have picked something up?”

Fuck. Again my thoughts go to her and not me. Where had Beth parked? Was there CCTV on the street? “Tell Demon to get Cad reviewing footage. I’m serious Sykes. I want Beth kept out of it.” If she’d driven there as I suspect, her car might have been clocked all over Pueblo, but only if they’re looking for it. They couldn’t follow up every vehicle driving last night, so Cad just has to try and doctor sightings of her in the vicinity. Even while I won’t be directly able to speak to him, I know my computer expert brother will do what needs to be done.

Suddenly Sykes leans forward. “Throw her to the wolves, Ink. You barely know her, and I earn my money for the club. My instructions are to get you out of here.”

I shake my head. “No. I’m claiming her. She’s mine.” She just doesn’t know it, and unless I get out, never will. “Her being brought into it doesn’t exonerate me, just makes her an accomplice, and she’ll go down as well.”

Sykes breathes in loudly through his nose. “I can’t guarantee you’re not wrong in that. Okay, I’ll stay away from her. But she may come forward herself, if what you obviously feel for her goes both ways.”

That’s my worry, the nail he’s hit right on the head. “She’d do it for anyone, Sykes. She’s not the type to see an innocent man locked up. But in this case, she has to be persuaded she has to, for her sake and mine. If we’re going with the flimsy story of the man who dropped the bag and ran away, she’d only make things worse if she starts telling the truth.” It’s hard to tell him what I’ve decided, but it’s for the best. “I’ve got two messages for Demon.” I pause while my eyes find those of my lawyer’s and wait for the jerk of his head that shows he’s noting what I’m saying carefully. “First, impress on him she’s mine, I’ve claimed her. Second, get him to tell her to keep the fuck away. Hell, let her believe I hate her if that’s what it’s going to take. She’s got to understand I don’t want to and won’t see her.” Fuck, it hurts, but to protect her, Beth must believe whatever this was is over between us.

His brow creases as he jots down some notes. “You clearly think a lot of her, Ink. If she’s of the same mind, might be hard keeping her away.”

“Then Demon will have to find the right words to say. He’s got to convince her.” He’s inventive and resourceful. It’s why we voted him in as the prez.

A warning knock, and then the door opens.

“Detectives Barker and Hastings are ready to speak with Mr McNeish.”

Sykes raises his brow, I give a returning raise of my chin. Guess I’m ready as I’ll ever be.

Following my lawyer, I shuffle, now with my hands and legs in chains, and am taken into an interview room. This one kitted out with a recording device, and high on the wall, a camera.

“I’m Detective Barker, this is Detective Hastings. For the recording, please state your names.”

“Joseph Sykes. Attorney at law.” Sykes nods at me.

“Damon McNeish. Otherwise known as Ink.”

“Thank you. Now, Mr McNeish, our reports show you were found in possession of two kilos of heroin on Third Street behind Tits Up, the strip club owned by the Satan’s Devils MC. Your club.”

“No,” I refute.

“No? Please explain.” A raised eyebrow and a small challenging smile suggest Barker thinks I can’t.

“I was there with other members of my club. Dealing behind Tits Up had been going on for some time, users were shooting up in the bathrooms, leaving used needles around.” I frown. “That isn’t good for business. The Satan’s Devils MC do not deal in drugs, and every member hates dealing and using with a passion.”

“Is that so?” The detective smirks.

“It’s so unless you have evidence to the contrary,” interjects Sykes.

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