Unlawfully Yours (Lawless MC #1)

10

I’m heading down the corridor when a voice stops me in my tracks.

“Got a concealed weapon on me, Adams. Better put your handcuffs to good use,” he says, grabbing his crotch through his trousers, giving his junk a vulgar tug.

Kieran Flanagan, I’ve come to learn is a self-proclaimed manwhore who has a different girl in his bed every night of the week, and I for one will not be one of them.

“You think that’s the first time I’ve heard that? I think you need to work on your pick-up lines.”

“Come on, Adams. You don’t know what you’re missing. I’ve never made it with another cop before, make a man’s dreams come true.”

“Your two inch pencil-dick couldn’t handle me, Flanagan, and I’m sure I’d get more satisfaction out of riding a cheese grater than going within a mile of your junk.”

His face screws up. “You’re a bitch.”

“I’d rather be a bitch than be caught dead anywhere near your bed. Save it for someone with less brain cells, at least then you won’t have to work so hard trying to get them into bed with you.” With that I turn and walk the other way.

The sad reality is, he’s not the first guy who’s tried to make a pass at me at work. And while most would be flattered, there’s a time and place and that’s not here.

When I’m safely sat at my desk, I set about writing my report of an arrest I made yesterday. Some little shit decided to steal an old lady’s car, but unfortunately for him and luckily for me, during his joyride the little dipshit wrapped it around a tree.

“How’s your day going, Colorado?” Ryan asks, perching on the edge of my desk.

“Aside from having to cut myself through the testosterone in this room with a knife and battling sexual harassment in the workplace, I’m peachy.”

He stifles a laugh. “Who do I need to punch?”

“Nobody. I appreciate it, but I can hold my own.”

“I have no doubt.” His smile fades as his expression turns serious. “Listen. We just a call, a dog walker just found a body washed up on the bank of the lake. We gotta go.”

“Do we know who it is?”

“Not yet, let’s go find out.”

I saw my first dead body when I was seven, and after six years on the force, seeing a dead body isn’t a new thing for me, it comes with the job. Some bodies are easier to see than others, some, depending on the circumstances of which they died would turn even the strongest of stomachs and it’s never easy. At the end of the day, it’s someone’s child, someone’s sibling.

Three other officers are already at the scene when Ryan and I arrive, examining the body about fifty feet away while forensics scour the surrounding area. From what I can make out, the male body is face down on the ground, the water lapping around his legs. Seems as though his clothing snagged on an overhanging branch from a tree, holding him back from the force of water.

Ryan treads through the overgrown grass that grows on the shallow embankment towards me.

“Find out anything?” I ask.

“Name’s Brad Levins. Drug dealer from Hillcrest.”

“Hillcrest? As in The Cobras?”

“Yeah.”

“Was he dumped here or did the body flow downstream? The river runs from Clydesdale through Hillcrest all the way to Stillwater Falls and out to the lake, right?”

He nods. “Could take a few weeks for the autopsy but I don’t think he just went wild water swimming.”

My brain is firing in all directions as I try to connect the dots. “You said is was a drug dealer, right? That drug bust last week, the one involving The Cobras’ VP. Who were the other guys?”

“Funny you should mention that. Along with their VP, a guy named Jimmy Miller was arrested at the scene but the third guy got away, guess what his name was.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Brad Levins?”

He nods. “One and only.”

“Who would want to kill him?”

“I mean, The Cobras have a motive; kill him to silence him. So far their VP is refusing to talk, there’s no way Rick’s gonna rat on his club, but killing Levins would mean one less person to go shooting their mouth off.”

“He was dealing in Stillwater, it would be in Lawless’ best interests to get rid of him too,” I point out.

His brow quirks up. “You’re not gonna give up on Lawless are you?”

I shrug. “Just keeping other avenues open, that’s all.”

He gives me a look like he doesn’t believe me but he lets it drop.

“Oh my gosh, what’s happened?” I spin to find a lady in her late forties or early fifties walking in our direction, her eyes peering past us to where the body is, her eyes wide and curious.

“It’s a police matter, if you could move along for me please, this area is currently closed off to the public,” I explain, doing my best to block her view.

“Is it a body?” she presses.

“As I’ve already said, Ma’am, this a police investigation and I ask that you again to move along. Thank you.”

When she realises she’s not going to get any information out of me, she huffs, stomping away but desperately trying to see past the line of trees that obscures her view.

“We should cordon this area off, Colorado, close off the footpath,” Ryan suggests.

“ Colorado? Don’t tell me you’ve come up with a nickname for me too?” I groan, though I have to admit, it’s a lot less annoying than ‘pixie’ .

“Who else?” he asks.

“Nobody important. Come on.” We head back up the footpath for the police tape in the trunk of the car.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Ryan starts, “every Friday some of the guys get together and have a drink after work. Wondered if you wanted to come with us tonight?”

“Pretty sure most of these guys hate me, or are still a little sore from my rejection, so I think I’ll pass. Thanks, though.”

“Come on, I’ll be there and I definitely don’t hate you. Just one drink. What else you got going on on a Friday night?”

“Um… Washing my hair?”

He narrows his eyes. “That excuse is not gonna cut it with me, Colorado. Come on, one drink. Please? I’ll beg. I’ll get down on my knees right here if I have to.”

I laugh. “I’m tempted to say no just to see that.”

“Well, Okay …” Before I can stop him, he’s lowering himself to the floor.

“Ugh, fine. Fine! One drink and then I’m gone, just get up, will you?” I give in.

He smiles wide. “I’ll wait for you in the locker room and we can head over together.”

“Sure.” I smile.

“Awesome. Looking forward to it.”

The end of my shift creeps up on me quicker than I expected, and I have just enough time to change into a pair of blue jeans, and a plain black t-shirt before Ryan and I, along with a couple of the other guys head out. The bar is only about a ten minute walk from the station. It’s chilly out this evening and it has me wishing I hadn’t left my jacket in my car parked back at the station.

I don’t give the motorcycles parked up in a row outside the bar a second thought, nor do I fully acknowledge the name, The Ape Hanger in huge letters as we enter. And it’s not until I catch sight of a familiar grinning skull clutching some handlebars on the back of someone’s kutte that I realise who this bar belongs to.

Fuck .

I tug on the sleeve of Ryan’s jacket and he stumbles backwards. “Why the hell did you bring me here?”

“We always come here.”

“You failed to mention it was a Lawless bar you come to. Did you do this on purpose?”

“Chill, Colorado. The Lawless guys are actually pretty decent and we’re on good terms with them.

It’s not just one, it’s the whole fucking club and then some, drinking and hollering with half-naked girls perched on their laps, hanging off their every word, their laughs just as fake as their tits they’ve got practically hanging out.

I’m just about to announce that I’ll be leaving when a familiar voice has my feet planted to the floor. “Are my eyes deceiving me?”

I spin on my heel to find Lawless’ President smirking back at me and I can’t stop myself from taking in how ridiculously handsome this man is. His hair is dishevelled in the most annoyingly perfect way, his blue eyes piercing through me as his long strides eat up the distance between us.

“You are the last person I ever expected to see walk into this bar,” he smirks as he reaches the bar.

I cross my arms over my chest. “Believe me, if I’d known you’d be here, I’d have stayed at home.”

“Ouch, you just love to trample over my heart, don’t you, pixie?” He steps closer, leaning a tattooed forearm on the mahogany bar top.

“Figured I could knee you in the junk, but why go to so much effort when words come so naturally to me?”

He chuckles. “Drink?”

“I won’t be staying long enough for one, but thanks.”

“Don’t leave on my account. This bar’s open to all.” He gestures to the bar packed with people.

I glance around the room. “Yeah, sure looks like it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, is there any woman here who doesn’t charge by the hour?”

“You’re here,” he shoots back.

“Touché.”

I glance to my right expecting to find Ryan watching the entire exchange, only to find him at a table on the other side of the bar with the rest of our colleagues.

Great , I’ve been ditched. Literally thrown into the lion’s den by a guy I thought was my friend.

I turn back to the biker to my left. “On second thought, I will have that drink. I’ll take a beer, please.”

“Woman after my own heart,” he grins before ordering a beer for himself and for me.

When the bartender returns with our drinks, Lawson slides mine over to me along the bar.

“Cheers,” he says, lifting his own towards me.

I clink the neck of my bottle with his before bringing it to my mouth, taking a long much-needed swig.

With my head tipped back, I sneak a glance to my left to find him staring. His gaze dipping from my eyes and settling on my mouth that’s wrapped around the bottle.

It doesn’t take a genius to determine what he’s probably imagining and he swallows hard, his eyes lifting up to mine. There’s something in the way he’s looking at me. Is that… Lust?

I tear my gaze away, lowering the bottle from my mouth and leaning forward on the bar, though I can still feel the heat from his gaze searing into my skin. “We found a body out by the falls today. A guy named Brad Levins. That name mean anything to you?” I ask casually, meeting his eye over my shoulder.

I take the time to study his face, but he gives nothing away. Not even a twitch or flash of recognition at the name. “Should it?”

“Yeah, it should, seeing as he was the man who got away during a drugs raid here in Stillwater where The Cobras’ VP was apprehended. Bit of a coincidence he wound up floating along the banks of the lake just days later, don’t you think?”

“You think my club had something to do with it.” It’s not a question.

My eyes lift to his as I take another sip of my drink. “Well, that’s for me to find out. It is my job after all.”

“I don’t think so. Walker tends to look in the opposite direction when it comes to my club, I thought you knew that?”

I slam my bottle down onto the bar, some of the contents spilling out onto my hand. “Let’s get one thing perfectly clear, okay? You might have Walker firmly in your back pocket, turning a blind eye to all the shit you and your little friends get up to, but I’m most definitely not in your pocket. I’m not that easily corrupted, Mr. Lawson.”

“Everyone can be corrupted for the right price.”

I shake my head. “Not me.”

“We’ll see.” There’s an amusement in his voice, almost like he sees it as a challenge and it pisses me off.

“I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand the concept of staying on the right side of the law,” I snap.

His face hardens. “Someone like me?”

“You know what, I’m out of here. Thanks for the drink,” I toss over my shoulder as I storm out, bursting out the doors of the bar, the coarse gravel crunching under my feet as I cross the parking lot.

I hear the door squeak on its hinges behind me and I don’t have to turn around to know exactly who it is. “You’re a real judgemental bitch, you know that?”

I turn to face him. “Oh really?”

“Yeah, really . You know fuck all about me and my club. You’ve been in this town for five minutes and you think you’ve got it all figured out, but you don’t. You know nothing . Sheriff Walker is the biggest joke of this fucking town. He doesn’t give a shit about upholding the law, he’s too busy sat on his fat fucking ass stuffing his face to care, that’s why he chooses to let us do the dirty work. Illegal or not, we keep the streets of Stillwater Falls clean, free from the scum that threatens to taint this town. You really think I want all that shit in the town I grew up in? And not that I have to explain myself to you at all, if it wasn’t for me and my club, these streets wouldn’t be safe for a pretty girl like you to walk down in the middle of the day let alone after dark. They wouldn’t be safe for anyone. So before you judge me, maybe take the time to get to know me, yeah?”

I’m speechless. Genuinely stunned into silence, which doesn’t happen all that often and despite my not-so-warm feelings towards him, I can’t deny noticing the genuine honesty in his words.

Could I be wrong about him?

He huffs, taking a couple of steps closer. “Why do you hate me so much, pixie?” he asks, his voice softer than before.

I sigh, letting go of some of the tension inside me. “Because of what you stand for. I don’t agree with the laws and practices of motorcycle clubs, I never have. It’s one of the main reasons why I chose to become a cop in the first place.” It’s why I came here.

“We’re really not so different, you know?”

“We are nothing alike,” I counter.

“I wouldn’t be so sure. We might wear different badges, but we’re both fighting for the same thing.”

It’s a silent stand off that stretches on for what feels like hours, but it’s him who breaks the silence first. “What do I need to do to prove to you that I’m not your enemy?”

“Swear to me that you didn’t kill Brad Levins.”

Without hesitating, he closes the remaining gap between us, the atmosphere becoming more and more charged with every step he takes towards me until there is barely a few feet of space between us.

“I swear to you that his death was not by my hand. I may be some things, but I’m not a liar, nor am I a murderer.”

His blue eyes are soft as he peers down at me. A shiver snakes up my spine, and it’s not just from the chill in the air against my skin.

“I believe you,” I breathe out. I do my best to hide the waver in my voice as the intoxicating smell of him invades my senses. The woodsy scent of his cologne that clings to his skin mixed with the earthy, leather smell of his kutte.

He shoves his hands into his jeans pockets. “Good.”

The silence between us quickly becomes a little awkward. “Okay, well. I’m gonna go. Goodnight, Mr. Lawson.”

A soft smile touches his lips as he peers down at me. “’Night, pixie.”

I hate the way my stomach flutters at that stupid nickname and I hate the fact that it’s growing on me the more he uses it.

I can feel his eyes on me as I turn and cross the parking lot.

“You ever gonna tell me your name?” he calls after me.

I keep walking. “Nope.”

“The name’s Myles by the way, if you were wondering.”

The corners of my mouth twitch and I spin around to face him. “I wasn’t, but at least now I can match the name to your mugshot when I finally get you into some handcuffs and arrest your ass.”

He barks out a laugh. “I’m always up for a little bondage, baby. But I can assure you I’m not the one who’s gonna be wearing those handcuffs.” He winks.

I can’t fight the smile on my face as I walk away, leaving him staring at my back as I disappear into the night.