Page 49 of Devil's Damnation
"The Rebels are dealing fentanyl-laced marijuana to high school kids. Keegan confirmed there's been at least one overdose already."
There's a pause on the other end of the line, and I can practically hear his blood pressure rising.
"How reliable is Keegan?"
"Very. Kid has no reason to lie, and the details check out. We're looking at a serious problem that needs immediate attention."
"Can you get to the station? I want to hear everything."
"On my way."
I hang up and head for my bike. As I'm walking, I'm already mentally preparing for the conversation ahead. There's going to be questions about my source, about how we handle Ethan, and about what to do with Logan. The last thing anyone wants is a dead teenager on their conscience, but if we don't act fast, that's exactly what we might be looking at.
The engine roars to life beneath me, and I pull out of the garage parking lot with purpose. This is one of those moments where my two worlds—cop and MC president—align perfectly. Both sides of me want to see The Rebels shut down, and both sides want to protect kids like Keegan and Jake from predators like Ethan.
As I ride toward the police station, I can't shake the image of Keegan's face when he was telling me about Jake's overdose. The guilt, the fear, the helplessness of watching someone almost die and not knowing what to do about it. It's a feeling I know all too well from my own experiences, both in law enforcement and in the MC world.
The difference is, this time we might actually be able to do something about it before it's too late.
Chapter 22
Dani
Going back to my greenhouse has been my number one priority the last few days. Since I was able to park my SUV in front of it, the only thing I've thought about is coming back out here and trying again.
Closing my eyes, I try to get rid of the memories of that day. It'd been such a good one. I was so excited about my new soil, about the progress I was making, until Tommy and his guys had showed up.
But I can't think of that now.
My phone buzzes in the cup holder. This time, I grab it, and quickly read whatever the text is.
Devil: You've got this, babe. Let me know if you need me.
Devil has been the person who has held me together since all of this started. I'm lucky to have him, although we've had our ups and downs, and the words Tommy spoke, still keeps me up at night.
DA: Will do, but right now I'm good. Love you.
Heading over to the greenhouse, I put my code in, and then enter. When I push the door open, there's something in front of it. Looking down, I see a manila envelope. My heart pounds against my chest.
The envelope is unmarked, just sitting there like it belongs. Like it's been waiting for me. My hands shake as I bend down to pick it up, the weight of it heavier than it should be. The flap isn't sealed, just tucked in, making it easy to open. Too easy. Like I'm walking into a trap.
I shouldn't open it. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to throw it away, to walk out of here and pretend I never saw it. But I can't. My fingers move of their own accord, lifting the flap and reaching inside.
The first thing I pull out is a photograph. It's grainy, like it was taken from a distance, but I can make out the figure clearly enough. A man in a police uniform, standing next to a patrol car. The badge gleaming on his chest catches the light, and my breath catches in my throat.
It's Devil. Or at least, it looks like him. Same broad shoulders, same stance, same way he carries himself. But this man is clean-shaven, his hair shorter, more professional. More... normal.
My hands are trembling so badly I can barely hold the photo steady. I set it aside and reach back into the envelope, pulling out what looks like official documents. Personnel files. Employment records. A badge number.
Officer Derrick David. Laurel Springs Police Department.
The words blur together as tears spring to my eyes. Derrick David. D.D. Devil.
I sink down onto the ground, the documents scattered across my lap. There are more photos, Devil in uniform, Devil at what looks like a police station, Devil shaking hands with other officers. All of them recent. All of them real. One is even Dime. I close my eyes, my stomach dropping to my feet. Tears and anger are right there at the surface. I think back to the day when I told him I didn't want to know.
Fuck. Me.
My phone buzzes again, and I look down to see another text from him.
