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CHAPTERSIX
Tank ~ Present
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Ace’s voice booms from the other side of the cell at the Sherriff’s Department. He fists his hands at his hips and shakes his head like a disappointed mama. “We don’t do shit like that without talking about it first.”
I nod. I know I fucked up telling Doherty that I killed that fucker when I don’t even know Jake Lilly. Must be that dude Nova gave a beatdown. But Nova does a hell of a lot of good for the community and the MC, and there’s no fucking way I’d let him go down when he saved my life.
Fuck that.
“I know,” I say instead of all that because Ace is right. This is something the whole MC decides on. Period. “I wasn’t thinking. Just acted on instinct.”
He nods. Even though I might have gone about it the wrong way, it was the right call. For the MC and for Nova. “Good instincts. Terrible fucking execution.”
I flash a smile I don’t quite feel. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“You’ve got a meeting with your lawyer before Doherty has to shuffle you off to County. She’s the best defense attorney in SoCal.”
“Fucking County. I hope she’s good.” I’ve done time in County before, and I can handle it easily. But there are always those fuckers who want to test you, to prove they’re thebig dawg,and showing those fuckers they ain’t always leads to more time in a fucking cell. “Think she’ll get me bail?”
“Maybe.” Even Ace doesn’t look sure when he lies straight to my face. “I don’t know, Tank. It is a murder charge.” One hand rakes through his hair, and he shakes his head again.
“Lawyer’s here,” Doherty mumbles under his breath.
The sheriff isn’t an asshole, but he’s a lawman and has no choice but to do his job. Last night, I forced his hand by confessing—like a fuckin’ idiot—right in front of him.
“I told her what we have so she can do her best for you.” His words come out slowly, almost guilty, as he unlocks the cell.
“Thanks, Sheriff.” I give his shoulder a squeeze, grateful he doesn’t have me locked up in cuffs.
“She’s a looker,” he whispers, then guides me through the maze of desks and computers. The bullpen buzzes with local law activities before he turns down a quiet hall and into a small windowless room. “Good luck.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Once inside the room, I spot a woman with thick dark hair, big hazel eyes, and enough curves to tempt any man with a heartbeat. Decked out in a suit with a blouse that barely covers her tits, she looks more like a stripper playing the role of a lawyer than an actual lawyer. She flashes a smile at Ace and then me. “Thomas Rutherford?”
I extend my hand absently. “Call me Tank. Or Tommy.”
“Right.” She flashes a smile while she pushes her tits out, and I get a bad feeling about this. A quick glance over my shoulder at Ace, who has a fucking smirk on his face, doesn’t do much to put my mind at ease. “Have a seat. We have a lot to go over.”
I take a seat and slide so my back is against the wall, my head directly below the camera in the room. “And you are?”
She smiles again. “Noelle Sabella, Esquire. You want my resume, or can we get down to business?”
I think about it for a minute. “How old are you?”
“Old enough to have a ninety percent success rate when my clients listen to me and do exactly what the fuck I say.”
Perfect. I flash a smile. “Good enough. What are we gonna do?”
Noelle lets out a sigh. “Apparently, there’s a video of you or someone beating the crap out of a Mr. Jake Lilly.”
I nod. “Yeah. Don’t know him.”
Surprise flashes in her eyes before that confident look returns. “The video has gone viral at this point, and it doesn’t look good. A figure in a leather vest, with Reckless Souls patches on the back, is beating the holy fuck out of the now-deceased man. It’s not clear who it is, which works in our favor.”
I frown. “Why do I hear abutcoming?”
“But,” she sighs with a wide grin. “It’s not hard to make the jump to you. A biker is shit-kicking a man, and you’re a biker. Not just any biker, but a trained SEAL with a history of assault.”
