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“Good job, Emily,” Maggie says.
Officer Alvarado steps between me and Abrams, her face a mask that betrays no emotion. “You shouldn’t have done that. I understand Abrams can be a jerk, but that is not how you handle the situation,” she says. Then she takes me by the wrist. “I’m going to have to ask you to come down to the station.”
“Good. Book the bitch for assaulting an officer,” Abrams says. It’s his voice, it’s his sneering face that I see over Officer Alvarado’s shoulder, but it’s Jay I hear, Jay I see, Jay I dream about smacking again.
“If you’re going to book her, you better book me, too,” Maggie says.
“For what?” Abrams says.
“For this,” Maggie says.
The air snaps with the shocking sound of Maggie’s fist slamming into Officer Abram’s face.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Hunter
Diesel arrives shortly after noon, his appearance preluded by the ominous thunder of his bike as it pulls into the driveway. Frowning, I stand and run to the front door, throwing it open and waving at him to kill the engine.
He steps off his bike, pulls off his helmet, and stares back at me, confused.
“Is this how you say hello now?” He shouts over the rumbling of his bike.
I point at it and run my finger across my throat in an unmistakable gesture.
He cocks his head. So I repeat the gesture. Then, when he doesn’t move fast enough, I draw my gun from the back of my waistband and point it right at his bike.
Finally, he kills it.
“What the fuck, Hunter?” He says.
“I finally got Charlie down for a nap. No fucking way am I going to let you wake him up.”
“Damn, sorry, brother. You’re really taking to this parental thing, huh?”
“I like the little guy,” I say. Then shake my head as the thought of how he looks while sleeping — how outright peaceful and beautiful the little guy is — crosses my mind. “No, I love him.”
“Hunter using the ‘l’ word, huh? This must be serious.”
“It is. I wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t.”
“Oh, so I’m just a ‘break glass in case of emergency’ friend, huh?” Diesel says, smiling.
“I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry, Diesel. I meant that you’re one of the few people I’d trust enough to call.”
“Saying the s-word, too, huh? I like what the little kid’s done to you. I’m just sorry it came under these circumstances.” He cocks his head, giving me a long look. “Are you going to invite me inside or what? Don’t tell me I drove all the way out here just for you to yell at me for almost waking your kid.”
“Come on in. I got some cold ones in the fridge.”
We’re not even to the fridge before I’m grinning. Just having Diesel around makes everything feel different, like I have someone here who has my back, someone who has proved themselves repeatedly, both as a biker brother and a brother in the military. Someone who can cover me while I do the things I need to do to find and take out Moretti and his men. This is no longer just my fight, it’s our fight.
It’s good not to be alone.
Not that I was.
Even as I think that, I picture Emily’s face and know that, no matter what, I won’t be alone in this as long as I have her.
“What’s got you grinning? Because, from what you’ve told me, this is not a smiling situation,” Diesel says. He was always too perceptive for his own good.
