Page 81 of American Hellhound
And now here she was: in holding.
She sighed and slumped back against the cinderblock wall. What little remained of her supposed bright future had been thoroughly stomped-on this afternoon.
The scrape of footsteps and jangle of keys surprised her. An officer appeared, expressionless and bored as he unlocked the cell door. “Your cousin’s here to bail you out,” he said. “Let’s go.” When Maggie just stared at him: “I’m talking to you, Lowe.”
She jolted upright and hustled out of the cell. She didn’t care who was out there pretending to be her cousin, she’d take it over staying here.
A young, slender, auburn-haired woman was waiting for her, dressed in tight jeans, harness boots, and a fitted denim jacket. She was very pretty, and the smile she shot Maggie was warm, but there was a definitive air of don’t-fuck-with-me about her. It was the aura Maggie’s mother was always trying to project, only it was cool, rather than uptight and bitchy.
“Hi, cuz,” she greeted, and pulled Maggie into a hug. “Play along,” she whispered into her ear.
Maggie squeezed her back in acknowledgement. “Thanks for coming to get me.”
“I had to.” The girl pulled back and held Maggie at arms’ length. She rolled her eyes. “You know your mom. Changed her mind, but then didn’t have the nerve to drive down here and pick you up. So stubborn. And thenthis guy.” She nodded toward the desk sergeant. “Didn’t want me to take you. Like Aunt Denise’s money wasn’t good enough.”
He gave them a bored look.
“Come on.” The redhead looped her arm around Maggie’s shoulders and steered her through the door.
They passed through the airlock and down the front stairs in silence. When they reached the parking lot, the girl let her arm fall away.
“I really can’t believe they bought that cousin story. Thank God.” She turned her head to face Maggie as they walked, sticking out a hand. “Hi. I’m Jackie. Collier’s old lady.”
Maggie accepted her shake. “Maggie Lowe. I’m sorry…Collier’s…old lady?”
“Collier being Ghost’s best friend,” Jackie said with a sympathetic smile. “Old lady being a biker’s wife.”
“Oh. Your husband’s a Lean Dog?”
“Yep. Our boys are brothers in arms.”
Ghost wasn’t “her boy,” but she was too relieved to correct Jackie. “Thank you so much. Really. I can’t…” She was shaking, she realized. “I can’t believe this happened. I’m so sorry you got dragged into this.”
Jackie waved off the apology. “It happens to all of us.”
“Getting taken to the police station?”
“More than it should.”
“God.”
“Don’t worry about it. You’re underage. It won’t go on your permanent record.”
Maggie bit back a distressed sound.
“And I saw the car. Bitch had it coming.”
Her stomach rolled. Just thinking about her poor car made her sick. “And after he just painted it,” she groaned.
“He’ll repaint it,” Jackie assured. “He and Collier already took it to the clubhouse.”
“Is that where he is now?”
“Yeah. He’ll meet us back at the apartment.” Jackie smiled. “He’s so worried about you.”
~*~
When Jackie parked in front of Ghost’s building, the headlights illuminated the man himself, sitting on the curb with his hands knotted together. He leapt to his feet before the engine was off, and was opening Maggie’s door as she reached for the handle.
