Page 89 of Stella
“No,” I say, trying to sound positive. “Manny is going to distract them with pastries, and Luna will keep watch so you can sneak out back.”
He stares at me. “Please tell me that is not the plan.”
“Well, do you have any better suggestions?” I demand. “They’re gonna be here for hours.”
“Shit. I’ve gotta get to work in an hour.”
“So, let’s just do this. The boys are all ruled by their stomachs, so Manny’s plan will work. It’s just how fast you can get from the bottom of the stairs to your motorcycle.”
I do not expect him to pull me close to him, but he does, my breath hitches in my chest. “Before I die,” he says dramatically. “I want you to know I had the best night of my life.”
My lips part. “So did I.”
He smiles softly. “Oh, and in case I don’t make it to my motorcycle, can you make sure Calli is fed and taken care of if I don’t make it outta here alive?”
“Such a baby,” I mutter against his lips.
If this plan doesn’t work. He’ll have more to worry about than getting to work on time.
And so will I. My entire prospecting career hangs in the balance because I didn’t set an alarm on my phone. Goddamn it!
Yet, I melt against his touch and for a split second, I forget all about what’s really waiting for us downstairs.
20
CALE
I gotout with my life intact, just. The plan went off without a hitch, though I’ve no idea if there were questions when my straight pipes sounded up. Stella hasn’t messaged me since I left, so that’s gotta be good news. I’m sure I’d have the Rebels down here right now if they had any inkling about what was going on.
The only thing is; Manny and Luna now know, and both of them are part of the MC. This just gets more complex as we go on; sneaking around isn’t exactly something I’m well versed in. For the sake of Stella’s position in the MC, and my life, I went along with escaping. Thankfully, that didn’t include jumping out of a two-story window. Despite all of that, I can’t seem to wipe the grin off my face. Stella has me in a tight stranglehold that I don’t seem to want to get out of.
Sitting at my desk, I stare down at the new envelope that landed there an hour ago while I was escaping from Stella’s bedroom.
I don’t understand what is going on when I finger through the photos. There are black and white pictures of Cash Hudson and his family; Deanna and their little girl, Caprice. What’s disturbing is the photos are of them unsuspecting; at the park,Deanna at the grocery store, Cash out front of a hardware store talking to a couple of guys.
Then there’s one of Caprice and Cash as he collects her from kindergarten.
I ball my fists up, because whether I dislike Cash Hudson or not, this is some kind of threat. First the DNA sample which they snatched from the shot glass, then the weird mud map and key, now these pictures.
I give Beckett, one of the cops I don’t really like because he’s always sticking his nose in, a chin lift as he sticks his head over my shoulder. “You good?”
“Fine,” I say, covering up the photos.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing. I’m heading out. You seen Dougie?”
He thumbs behind him. “He’s flirting with the reception staff again.”
I don’t trust half the force, and I know that sounds shitty, but some of them aren’t good guys. I’m not a total idiot. I know how the pecking order runs around here, just like it does in many government organizations, like politics. There’s shit I’ve heard from the grapevine that the harder you dig, the more roadblocks you’ll encounter.
Like with the mafia vs MC almost two years ago when the Rebels brought this city to its knees. It wasn’t a bad thing; the Italian mafia were trying to take back the underworld, and the Rebels stopped them. One thing we can agree on is our disgust for drugs, illegal guns and trafficking in this city. We, of course, looked like the good guys when it was spread across the news shortly after, when I know for a fact the Rebels were the ones who did all the heavy lifting and took out the trash. A part of me wondered back then if this is what it’s always been like. The Rebels get to live another day, and the cops look like heroeswhen we had literally no involvement. Everything went down, and then we were called to step in and make arrests.
The chief of police, Seymour Montgomery, got a glowing recommendation and the keys to the city for his part in the takedown. Which he did nothing to earn except show up.
I’m not sticking up for the Rebels, but I know corruption when I see it. The only reason the Rebels didn’t go to jail was because Chief Montgomery wanted to look like the hero. I get that backdoor deals and kickbacks happen all the time, but it also makes me wonder what some of these guys won’t do for money. The Rebels are barely a blip in the big pond compared to some of the crooks in this town, and I know for a fact they were a hairline fracture away from being arrested themselves. Even though they cut a deal, sometimes the corruption of the force runs deep, and someone at the top had it in for them. Someone other than the Chief, because he’s also a puppet to a much bigger organization.
As much as I dislike what the Rebels stand for, I hate crooked cops even more.
