Their Queenpin (The Ridge MC #6)

Chapter 18Adelina

Chapter Eighteen

Adelina

The door slammed open with a bang, making me jump. A portly cop waddled into the room; his face twisted in a smirk that made my blood run hot.

“Did you get all the sappy shit out of your system?” he sneered, glancing between me and Sas.

Sas shot back before I managed to open my mouth. “At least the sight of my cock doesn’t make my wife sick to her stomach. That’s a fuck of a lot more than I can say for some people in this room.”

I covered my mouth to hide my snort of laughter at Sas’s retort and the cop’s responding scowl.

Even though the cop’s upper lip twitched like he wanted to shoot a feral snarl at Sas, he painted a smirk on his face and jerked his thumb toward the door.

“Time’s up. Let’s get Miss Parisi out of here.” He dragged out my maiden name, letting it sour the air like acid.

I clenched my jaw, the fury bubbling up like heartburn. “It’s Mrs. Tate.”

The cop stepped forward, his meaty hand reaching out to grab my arm. “Have it your way. Let’s go, Mrs. Tate .” The words dripped with sarcasm.

As he moved to escort me, I yanked my arm from his grip and turned to Sas.

I closed the distance between my husband and me in two steps, rose up onto my tippy toes, and pressed my lips to his. He devoured my mouth like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. But he held his hands at his side.

When I pulled away, the weight of his spiced-honey gaze and all the unspoken words between us lingered. We had attended to our marriage first before falling into the trap of discussing business. That’s the way it should have been. Yet I still regret not giving him an update on everything going on outside.

That ship, though, had sailed now that Chief Wiggum stood in the room with us. Not this guy’s name, but the only incompetent cop character that came to mind. And I hated The Simpsons. So, I didn’t care to learn his real name.

Incompetent ass of a cop.

“All right,” I said, voice hard, as I moved toward the door, keeping my eyes ahead.

The pig rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath.

“I’ll be back to take you to lockup,” he called out to Sas as he grabbed the door behind me.

Once outside, he drew the door closed and locked it. I started down the hall, and his hand found the small of my back. If it was to remind me where the power lay in this miserable situation, I would have none of it.

I immediately pulled away, my skin crawling.

“I can walk by myself,” I snapped, shooting him a sharp look.

His grin faltered, but he let out a slow exhale, nodding toward the hallway as we left Sas locked in that bleak room.

The cop chuckled. “You sure have a strange taste in men, Miss Parisi. Married to a criminal now, huh? Could’ve picked a better class of company.”

If he only knew that I had been raised to be as much of a criminal as anybody in a motorcycle club. Maybe more so. If he understood the criminal operations that controlled whatever dirty cop arranged for my access to my husband. How exactly would this bastard react?

“The way your husband’s case is shaping up,” he started, “you’ll be a prison widow in no time.”

That was it. I planted my hands on his thick chest and shoved him hard enough to back him against the wall. His smug expression faltered, replaced by surprise, but I didn’t give him a chance to recover.

“First of all,” I hissed, stepping closer, “my name is Mrs. Adelina Tate. Second, you don’t get to make assumptions about guilt when this country’s Constitution demands innocent until proven guilty. Or did you skip that part in training?”

His mouth opened, but I wasn’t done. “You, sir, are nothing when it comes to deciding my husband’s fate. Your job is to push paperwork and escort people around this detention center.”

“Oh, but I do have connections, little girl.” He cocked his head to the side.

I clenched my teeth, biting back the credentials I had from college. This slimy bastard didn’t get that much info on me. “And tell me, officer, what kind of connections do you think are available to me as the daughter of Massimo Parisi? Hmm?”

Fuck yeah, I was gonna use his name. It was unspoken, but everybody knew he was the Don of the Mafia in Las Vegas and the entire Southwest.

The cop’s mouth gaped like a fish out of water.

“Didn’t think you would have a response to that.”

“You’ve got a point,” he said, “but it doesn’t change the fact that your husband’s still in lockup with no release in sight.”

I pushed on him again, and his fat body thudded against the wall. “You have no idea the kind of pull we have. But I do. And while you’re busy throwing insults around, I’ll be out there figuring out who’s responsible for framing him.”

For a split second, I thought he might actually apologize. But cops like him? They never did.

Taking a step back, I gave him a withering look. “And one more thing. Don’t think for a second I can’t juggle clearing his name while managing the logistics of our other business. And I can do it all with my husband’s cum dripping down my inner thigh.”

The cop’s eyes went wide, and I reached down between my legs, stroking my finger through the mess. And then ran it along his jawline, slapped his cheek, and walked the fuck out the door.

I had a diamond heist to coordinate.