“Yeah. Should feel bad for her, but really fuckin’ don’t.”
“They don’t know any different.” That still was no excuse.
“Don’t mean it’s right.”
“Yeah,” Rook agreed, “it ain’t right. Shit’s gotta stop.”
“We can only do so much without us drawin’ heat. Takin’ out those motherfuckin’ bastards is one thing. Women and children is another.”
That was for fucking sure. No one on the exec committee wanted to make that call. But all the male Shirleys? They were on their hit list. Every fucking single one of them. For not only doing what they did to Autumn, Sig’s “Red,” but for kidnapping Rook’s niece Dyna.
Can’t take a man’s baby girl, his flesh and blood, and expect to keep breathing.
The club gave the Shirleys a warning not to fuck with the Fury after they rescued Autumn, but they were too fucking stupid to listen. They caused what was currently happening to their clan by not taking that warning seriously, by knocking out Jemma and stealing Dyna.
Once they did that, it was on like Donkey fucking Kong.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here before...” Headlights came over the rise in the road. “Before that.” Rook groaned. “Fuck.”
“How much you wanna bet it’s five-o?”
“Of course it fuckin’ is, who the fuck else would be drivin’ down Copperhead Road at this hour? God-fuckin-damnit.”
“Just play it cool. Story is we were on our way back to the farm from a party and pulled over to piss. Hell, maybe it’s just a local.”
“Yeah, right.” The local residents stayed away from this part of the mountain. For good reason.
But of course it was a local. A local pig. Fuck.
The black-and-white pulled off the road behind them and the spotlight was pointed straight at the rear of the Honda where he and Easy still stood.
They should’ve just got into the fucking car and left. Talked on their way back to the farm. But Rook hadn’t wanted to leave until he checked with Easy to make sure he didn’t come across anything suspicious first. Just in case they needed to go back up and check it out.
Now look at what was happening because of that delay. They were being blinded by that fucking spotlight, like two bucks standing in front of an oncoming eighteen-wheeler.
Rook raised his arm to shield his eyes to keep the light from searing his corneas. Asshole. Whoever it was.
He knew them all. He’d dealt with them all.
He was forced to make nice with them all.
Why? Because they all had their personal cars and the PD’s cruisers repaired and serviced at Dutch’s Garage. Rook had personally turned a wrench and changed the oil on every single vehicle any of those pigs and their family sat in.
Dutch made good money off their business. Because of that, Rook bit his tongue whenever one of them came in.
Were the local pigs any better than the countless screws he’d had to deal with in County or in the state pen? Yeah. But that didn’t mean he wanted to take them on a fucking picnic or send them a fucking Christmas card.
They still carried cuffs, a taser and a gun.
Due to being an ex-con, Rook wasn’t allowed to carry any weapons to protect himself. As for the cuffs...
Well...
Because of the spotlight, the body walking in their direction was nothing but a silhouette. He knew which one it was simply by her shape alone.
Only two females wore badges and duty belts for the Manning Grove Police Department. Two related to Chief Max Bryson. His sister-in-law Leah, who was married to Max’s brother Marc, another badge-carrying Bryson. And Max’s cousin Jet Bryson.
Like the Shirleys, the Brysons liked to keep it in the family, too, when it came to the police department.
“What are you boys up to?”
Yep, he was fucking right, those hips and thighs belonged to none other than Officer Bridget “Jet” Bryson. Rook hadn’t dealt with her too much yet since she was the newest member of the force, but he’d seen her around town and at the garage plenty of times with and without her uniform.
But not naked. Though, he’d imagined it a few times, especially when her hair was down, her jeans were hugging her ass and she wasn’t wearing a Kevlar vest which turned her tits into a shapeless ramp.
Rook cocked an eyebrow and glanced around. “Who you talkin’ to?”
“You.”
“I ain’t a boy.” Rook whacked Easy’s chest hard with the flat of his palm. “Easy certainly ain’t no boy, either. Are you, E?”
Easy grabbed his junk and shook it. “Fuck no, can prove I’m no boy.”
Jet sighed and moved to where they could finally see her without being blinded. “Okay, gentlemen, what are you up to?”
Rook pursed his lips and purposely raked his gaze from the top of her long dark hair pulled tightly to the top of her head to the tips of her boots. Too bad that uniform made her look more like a man than a woman. “You seem easily confused, darlin’. No gentlemen here, either.”
“Okay, assholes...” She smiled. “Is that better?”
That smile didn’t quite reach her crystal blue eyes. It was too dark to see the color right now, but he knew what they were. The same as the rest of the Brysons. They all looked similar. Dark, practically black, hair with light blue eyes that could pierce you.
Especially this one’s. She had a tendency to stare right through him, like she could see all his secrets. Whenever she dropped off one of the PD’s cruisers—or even her personal vehicle—for maintenance or repair, he always caught her looking at him with those eyes slightly narrowed. Like she was waiting for him to fuck up so she could book his next vacation behind steel bars.
Easy grinned. “That’s about right.”
What was about right? Oh yeah, that they were assholes.
Jet rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Want to tell me what you were doing in these woods after dark?”
“Havin’ a picnic,” Rook answered.
“I’m not thinking that’s true.”
Rook slammed a palm over his heart. “You wound me, darlin’, by not believin’ me.”
“Not darling. Officer will do. And I don’t see your picnic basket.”
“We already put it in the trunk.”
“Do you want to show me?” Jet asked.
“You have a warrant?” Rook returned. “Or probable cause to stop and question us?”
“I got the PC. Want me to explain it?”
“Nope.”
“I kind of find it suspicious that you two would be parked here in the middle of the night. You know, two in the morning is not the best time to have a picnic.”
Rook shrugged. “Unless you’re havin’ one with Yogi Bear.”
Jet tilted her head. “You still watch cartoons, Rook?”
“Sure. Don’t you?”
“We were headin’ home,” Easy explained, “and I had to piss.”
“You’re not that far from the farm.”
“I got a big dick but a small bladder,” Easy said. “It’s a problem. Not the big dick part, the small bladder part.”
“Are you sure it isn’t a prostate problem? You should get that checked,” Jet answered with a straight face.