Their Queenpin (The Ridge MC #6)

Chapter 23Sas

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sas

Dressed in the standard-issued uniform, I shuffled into the visitor area in a long line of inmates sitting in a row of chairs. I hated jail—not specifically waiting in lines or the cramped areas, but jail was.. . boring.

I’d rather be in prison, where at least I had a place to exercise or shoot a few hoops with the other inmates. That was, as long as I kept myself out of solitary.

“Halt!” ordered my handler. Another young pig. How nice it would’ve been to hear him squeal, if only for a little distraction from the monotony.

Now, prison guards—some of those bastards could be tough, but at least they knew how to take bribes. These paper-pushing cops acted better. Like they were the right hand of some deity that had all knowledge and all power.

One of the uniforms sat behind a desk, checking his list, and called out a number. Another dude, about as disheveled as Miguel had been, stood up and scooted across the floor as much as the chains around his ankles would allow. The desk cop gave him a slip of paper and pointed to the line of tables separated by glass with small partitions between each.

Fuck them.

Fuck them all.

And the goddamn horse they rode in on.

The visitors would be on the other side and talk to us through those stupid 1950s telephones.

The cop who manhandled me now, pushed me right on past the line of chairs to the little cubicle at the end. When I rounded the corner and before I could even sit, I spotted wifey.

She looked haggard. Far less put together than her normal self. She was hunched over the desk, tracing something with her thumbnail.

Thankfully, the cop left me there without making a peep, and I paused to take her in. The clothes she wore almost blended in with the colors of this room. Drab gray that did nothing for her milk-chocolate hair. Her creamy-olive complexion really needed warmer colors. Or brighter.

Red, ideally.

She straightened when she noticed my arrival.

Everything had taken a toll on her. She forced her smile, but this situation wasn’t flattering on her. It wasn’t that she fit into visiting jail regulations—zero cleavage, little jewelry, nothing tight or see through—but the paleness in her cheeks showcased her exhaustion.

Her smile wavered.

She played with her wedding ring nervously. At least, she fucking wore it. A week ago, I wouldn’t’ve been so sure.

This sight, however, wasn’t the woman I’d claimed.

A low rumble filled my chest as I took the seat. Lanie would get an earful the next time I spoke with her. She had to work magic and bust me outta this place like yesterday. When we met yesterday, she said she was trying, but the red tape kept piling on. The latest thing was about the Nevada Bar Exam.

Adelina picked up the handset first, and I followed suit.

“Sas,” she murmured in a soft voice.

It sounded like not only had the wind had been taken out of her sails, but it had never even blown. And I wanted to murder anyone and everyone who made my wifey feel this way.

“Give it to me,” I ordered.

A desperate instinct flooded my veins, the need to own her pain as much as her pleasure. In this sitch, the pigs would be listening to everything we said, so we couldn’t be as open as I wanted. Adelina, though, was tough and smart. She’d figure out how to tell me.

“You look like shit,” she muttered by way of a hello. God, I adored the way she cut through everything and laid her thoughts on the table.

“You don’t look much better,” I mumbled.

My words must’ve struck a chord, because her cheeks flushed red. Fucking with her was my nectar of life, but I didn’t want her to believe that’s what I thought. Even in the drab, she was brighter than the moon and stars in my blackened night.

I ducked my head and lowered my voice, squeezing out words that felt foreign on my tongue. “Are you okay?”

Her eyes hardened. “I should be asking you that, but I don’t expect much has changed.”

“Jail is jail.” I shrugged. “I could be worse.”

She returned to tracing a groove in the table. “We didn’t get to talk last time.”

I let out a low growl into the receiver, remembering our messy lack of ‘talking.’

The corners of her lips curled, but she fought the smile. “Are you all right, though?”

I smirked. “Don’t tell me you’re starting to care about me, princess.”

“I’m princess again?” she asked, then scowled.

“You’ll never not be.” I leaned closer to the glass. “Unless you’re wifey... or whore... or my dirty?—”

“Okay, got the picture.” Her cheeks flushed again, but this time, there was a sparkle in her brown eyes. Her pink tongue darted out to wet her lips, and I gritted my teeth. If it weren’t for this fucking glass, I would claim that mouth and tongue.

She tapped her wedding ring against the table.

I didn’t have mine. It’d been taken when they booked me, and as much as I hated needles, I was now considering a tattoo over my left ring finger.

“How’s Graff?” I asked, trying to draw her out and get her thinking on her feet again.

“He’s fine,” she said. “Rafe too.”

I eyed her, hating the snipped answers. “Are they taking care of you?”

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

“I do,” I stated flatly.

Her eyes flashed up at me, her gears shifting, the retort on her lips ready to fly back at me.

“You are my worry, wifey.” Then, making sure she was paying full attention and reading the underlying message, I demanded again, “Are they. Taking care of you?”

“Yes,” she said breathlessly.

“How well have they taken care of you?” I purred in a low tone.

“Very.”

My cock twitched. If she wanted to play the short answer game, I’d go along. I would peel back her lips and make her tell me every little dirty thing they had done to her. “Give it to me.” In great detail , I didn’t add aloud. But I wanted every stroke. Thrust. Moan.

“Sas, we don’t have time,” said Adelina, schooling her face.

“Make time.” Fuck, I wanted to reach out, bust through this glass, and take her in every way known to man. Although, I’m sure the glass was bulletproof and would only shatter into a hidden netting.

She lifted one shoulder. “It’s not like they’re in town.”

Adelina glanced up at a clock on the wall—a real one this time, not the basketball countdown we had in the family room.

Hell, that knocked me back to the diamonds the MC had to deal with in my absence. “How’d things go at the”—I cleared my throat—“jeweler’s?”

I hoped anyone listening in would think it had something to do with the ring she kept toying with.

She scowled at me, then her eyes stretched wide with understanding. “They cleaned and resized it, but...”

“But what?”

Adelina let out a huff. “The wolf caught the rabbit.”

I closed my eyes for a few seconds. “Who the fuck told you to say that?”

“Sas,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

I flashed my eyes open at her and grinned, still liking when she was angry with me. I would take those memories into my dreams tonight. Life in jail gave me time along with three meals and medical assistance, but it wasn’t so bad. I missed my motorcycle. And my wife.

She pinched her lips at me, and I tried to rid myself of how hot her anger made me.

“Was the rabbit hard to catch?” I asked.

She nodded solemnly.

“Any wolves hurt in the chase?”

She flinched as though there was something else, but she answered, “Only rabbits.”

Good. So the MC made it out without anyone getting hurt. “How many”—I coughed—“bunnies were there?”

Now, it was her turn to shoot me a secret smirk. “More than the triplets at the clubhouse. But only one more, I think. Possibly two. It was hard to count with all the activity.”

I cracked my knuckles on the table.

“The wolves devoured the whole litter,” she continued.

I tried not to laugh at how awkwardly she continued with trying to paint the picture. Too obvious, though. “I’m sure the alpha will be proud.”

She knitted her eyebrows together, confused. How else was I supposed to ask about her father? Or Prez?

I exhaled, needing to change topics now that I knew my brothers were okay. “Lanie got you this appointment?”

“Yeah.” She worked her jaw. “She’s studying now, I think.”

“Oh, yeah. She mentioned having to get her license.”

“Right,” said Adelina. “She’s working hard on a way to get you out.”

“Tell her to look harder.”

“I am!” Adelina slapped her hand flat on the table. “But if she’s supposed to be so damn good at this law shit, then why the fuck can’t she get you out of here?”

“We can trust Lanie, Adelina, calm down,” I said.

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?” she snapped. “Everything I’d hoped for as a kid with my wedding has been ruined, and now I can’t even have a life with my husband because someone or something is making damn sure you’re stuck behind bars. It’s bullshit!”

“I need you to keep going for me, princess.” She needed to keep making things happen like she had been thus far. She needed to trust the club and understand it wasn’t like the Mafia. The brothers and their ol’ ladies were there for each other. Always.

I tilted my head to the side, and she glanced in that direction. A jailer was nearing us, watching us openly, with his hand on his baton.

She shifted back in her seat and slumped her shoulders, turning herself into a small, helpless woman. We both knew that wasn’t true, but she played the part well.

“Angel trusts Lanie. Same with the Prez,” I said.

“What about you? Do you trust her as your lawyer?”

“I do,” I said, surprising even myself. But when she’d ridden out to save my brother Angel, I’d decided Melanie Flemming was good shit. “You need to trust her too, Adelina.”

She eyed me under her dark, makeup-free eyelashes. She was beautiful either way, but she looked different, and she couldn’t hide anything behind the mask she normally wore.

“Your lawyer thinks if we can find out who...” She swallowed as she put thought behind her words, but I knew what she meant.

She was asking me who the fuck had planted the coke on my bike.

“I didn’t put it there,” I said.

“I know!” she responded immediately. “I know.”

The words burrowed deep into me. Good, because I wanted her to understand.

“Melanie said one of...” She flashed her eyes to the jailer nearest to us.

I pointed to the phone receiver. “Does the club have roaches ?” I asked, again willing her to catch my meaning.

She widened her eyes and nodded.

“What did Lanie say?” I prompted Adelina, forcing her to look at me.

“Melanie said...” Adelina took a deep breath, and her shoulders trembled.

Fuck, I wanted to grab her and force her to look me in the eyes, make her imagine that it was only us. I didn’t fucking want her here—not in jail—but I needed to see her, like an addict needing his drug.

Pretty. Short. Curvy.

Smart as she was sexy.

Tight cunt.

Damn, this woman was my nirvana.

She was the only thing that kept me going.

Adelina rolled her shoulders back. “Your lawyer said that one package was found under your seat.”

She was cute when trying to hide what we were talking about, but damn it was a good way to bring it up. That much would be in the case file, so she wasn’t giving anything away to the roaches in the line.

Whatever we said here wasn’t confidential and could be used against me.

“Under my seat?” I asked, and Adelina nodded her confirmation. “That means whoever put it there knows their way around a bike.”

“My, um...” She scratched the back of her neck, not finishing her thought, but I knew what she was asking.

“Does he know motorcycles?” I scowled.

“He wouldn’t know, but he also wouldn’t do it himself.”

“One of his men?”

“I don’t know. They’re not exactly vehicle or mechanicy”—she rolled her eyes and flipped her hair off one shoulder, reminding me exactly how young she was—“or whatever people.”

“True.” They ran most of their operations from high-rise hotels.

She settled back down, leaning on her fist with the phone at her ear.

I almost expected her to blow a fucking bubble. “You sure you’re more than a day past sixteen?”

She smiled at that. “Wanna card me, old man?”

“That, little girl, will earn you a blistering.”

We both laughed for a second, but the humor faded in the shadow of Massimo Parisi. The Mafia Don rode around in a limo, and I had watched Rafe getting used to his bike and almost pissed myself from how hilarious it was. He’d known the basics when we rode out from the Ridge, but in the beginning, he’d ridden like he had a stick up his ass.

And then, there were all the suits and dresses at our “groom’s dinner.” Yeah, like I had any hand in that shitshow. Regardless, the Mafia was definitely not made up of bike-riding men. Not when their favorite clothes were suits and nooses.

“Someone else, then?” she prompted. “Who?”

“The bikes were out in the open,” I said. “It could’ve been anyone.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “But not just anyone would go to those lengths, Sas. I need details. Something for Lanie to go on.”

I huffed a deep breath. For once in my life, I was innocent, and now I needed to fight the charges in the legal way. Fuck.

“Perhaps someone in the car—” She glanced over at the guard. “At the car dealer?”

A weak coverup for the cartel, but I didn’t really want to discuss that again, so I snorted a laugh. “Which one?”

She frowned. Apparently, she wasn’t in a joking mood. Shame, because I needed someone to take my mind off this shit. I needed the memories of our banter and all the ways I’d pushed her to get me through these days filled with piss, shit, and a whole lot of nothing else.

“Sas,” she began.

“Come on, Adelina. Give me something for the spank bank.”

“I’m trying to help you.”

“Leave that to Lanie.”

“ She’s the reason I’m asking.”

“Helping me is why she’s being paid.”

Her frown deepened. “She’s not making shit.”

I knew that already. It was her job with the MC. We didn’t have dues or other crap to make us formal, but people pulled their weight with skills. Give and take, and all that bullshit.

“Simeon,” she gritted out. Now shit was getting serious if she was using my given name, shitty though it was.

“Where’d you learn that tone?” Her mother surely didn’t strike me as a woman who knew how to pour all her scolding into the sound of someone’s name. That venom she infused came from somewhere else.

“My nonna,” she said, blowing past the question. “I need to know, Sas. To help Melanie help you.”

“I don’t know,” I said, popping my jaw.

“You don’t know which, ah, car dealer ?” Her voice was getting louder with every word.

“Shhh,” I hissed, and she stiffened. After a second, I went on, “The dealer is keeping tabs. That reminds me... ask Melanie about Miguel. Oh, and make sure she’s gotten his info to the Warden. But it’s not them, at least, not directly.”

“Already done.”

“And? What’d the Warden say?”

“He’s a ghost. No prints, no ID. Nothing.”

“Well, hell.”

Her eyebrows pinched together, but she let Miguel drop and asked in a low voice, “If not the dealer, then who?”

I had been thinking about that question since the moment the police picked me up, and I still didn’t know. The police knew how to interrupt a party, and they had certainly crashed my fucking wedding.

Rude of them.

But the cartel and the Mafia wouldn’t get the pigs involved. If I was such a threat, they would shoot me while I was riding, maybe killing Adelina in the process. I didn’t want to think about the danger she may be in while I was locked up like a dog.

“Sas?” asked Adelina, raising her hand toward the barrier between us, but then she pulled back at the last second.

Still a jailer yelled, “Hands off the glass!”

And I wanted to rip the fucker’s vocal cords with my teeth for talking to wifey that way. Perhaps they had it right to chain me like a rabid beast.

She placed her palms flat against the table, like it would keep her upright. “What are you thinking, Sas? I can see gears turning in your eyes.”

“Shifting,” I corrected.

She shrugged. “Whatever. Who else was there?”

“Exactly—who else was there?” I asked, hoping she’d put the puzzle together on her own.

Adelina drew her eyebrows together, which made her look twenty years older. I didn’t like it one bit. Then, realization brightened her whole face. “Someone in the club? Who?”

“Do me a favor, wifey, and never play poker.”

“Sa-as,” she scolded.

“I don’t know.” I hated the words that seemed to keep popping out of my mouth, and I spat them out with venom. While I thought one of my brothers had turned against me, I couldn’t be sure which one.

“I’ll find out,” she promised.

“N-n-n-no you don’t.”

“Sas, we need you out?—”

“Snooping around the club will put you in danger,” I said.

“I’m already in danger. You’re in danger. We’re all . . . Christ! It sounds like a playground song.” She smacked herself on the forehead.

I chuckled. “I can handle myself, wifey.”

“I can handle myself too.” Fierceness burned in her eyes.

“I know.”

The fire in her eyes flickered for a second—she softened under my admission, my compliment—but then she said, “I’m going to find out who. For you, Sas.”

“Be careful,” I warned.

“I will,” she said.

“Make sure you keep Graff and Rafe close,” I said, and she pursed her lips. Was she still trying to fight it? “You three will be stronger together.”

“You need to be with us,” she said.

“Soon,” I promised, but I shouldn’t give a promise I might not be able to keep. “Go home and come see me when they’re back.”

“Why?”

“Need to tell ’em somethin’”

“You can tell me. Now.” Her voice ticked up as red blossomed on her cheeks. She already knew she wasn’t going to like my response, and I agreed. She would hate it.

But I would put my brothers in harm’s way long before I shoved her into the line of fire. “I need to tell them how to contact the car dealer.”

“I can do it,” she said automatically.

“Fuck, Adelina.” I swiped a hand through my hair. “No.”

“But—”

“I don’t want you more involved. It’s not your place.”

She scoffed. “You’re in jail. You’re one to talk. And I’ll be the goddamn judge of my place , husband.”

Fuck how I hated when she acted like a brat, even if my cock kicked. There was nothing I could do about it now. “Adelina, you know I’m shit at being kind, but?—”

“You think this is kind ?” she interrupted. “Of all the big-headed things?—”

“Adelina, shut up.”

Her eyes bulged.

But I continued in a growl, “You will fucking do this, princess.”

A sly smirk crossed her face. Was this really how she wanted to play? Didn’t she know I would win?

“When my brother and your uncle are back, bring them here. I’ll tell them how to get in touch with the Roj—car dealer.”

“Fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest, tucking the phone in her shoulder, and sat back. “I’ll ask Ward.”

“I haven’t told him.”

“Doesn’t matter. He tracked them onto a plane. So unless you’re calling, um, long distance, there’s no point.”

“Long distance isn’t a problem,” I said.

“Then just tell?—”

“Adelina, I haven’t told anyone. And I can’t risk that kind of information with a princess,” I said in a low voice.

Her smile drooped, her eyes lowering. “You think I’m going to run to the king?”

I wanted to scold her for bringing her father into this, but something about her sinking posture made me think twice.

“Hey,” I said and waited for her to look back at me. “You don’t answer to him. The only king you serve is me.”

She took a deep breath and sat straighter. “And here I thought you a jester.”

I cocked my head to the side. “And you would be my whore.”

“Aren’t I always?” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “And you like it.”

“Dang, cha-ching. Spank bank locked and loaded.”

She almost beamed. “Being a princess has taught me many things.”

“I don’t think your crown had anything to do with how you became my pretty little slut.”

“Time’s up.” A cop’s hand grabbed me under the arm.

“Wait.” Adelina jumped up, all the spunk right back in her eyes. “I’ll let you thank me in all the ways when I get you out of here, Tate.”

She slammed down the phone receiver. My balls drew up and my chest swelled with pride. That little thing was gonna be a force to reckon with, and I couldn’t fucking wait.