by Atlas, Lilly
She loved them, respected them, and wanted to remain a part of their life. But she also loved LJ. And after she walked out of this office, she was tracking his tight ass down and getting him to hear her out. Then, if he still rejected her, she’d have to accept it, but at least she’d be able to say she’d given it her all. Her all and then some because she was prepared to get down and dirty to win this battle.
Hence the ultra-sexy underwear currently riding up her crack. That stuff may be successful at turning her man on, but dayum, it was uncomfortable as all get out.
Time to stop dawdling and get on with this miserable task.
As Holly walked toward the conference room, with about as much enthusiasm as if she were walking into Jury Duty, voices of the officers met her in the hallway.
“Shit, Sheriff, you really worked this from all angles, didn’t you.” The voice belonged to Schwartz.
Holly slowed and stifled a groan. Since the hellish night of the missed concert, she hadn’t laid eyes on the man and didn’t relish it now. If her task weren’t so important, she’d bail and come back at a time the deputy was absent.
“I have,” her father said. “It’s time to move forward and start putting these bastards behind bars.”
With a frown, Holly crept closer to the open conference room door. Was it wrong to eavesdrop? Sure, but that wasn’t going to stop her. Not when she had a really good idea who the “bastards” were.
“You sure Marjorie’s gone? No one left in the building?” That was Higgins. Apparently, this meeting was a gathering of reptiles.
“Yeah,” Schwartz said. “Saw her car drive off a minute ago out that window.”
“All right. Let’s review the plan one more time,” her dad said. A chair creaked and footsteps sounded in the room.
Holly’s heart raced as she flattened herself against the wall. Like that would do anything if the men stepped into the hallway. She should leave. Needed to leave, but her feet were rooted to the ground, and her body froze as she waited for more.
“In exactly thirty minutes, dispatch is going to receive a phone call from a chick who was partying at the clubhouse last night,” Schwartz said.
“What’s ’er name again?” Higgins asked.
“Carli. She’s some whore who used to hang around the club begging for scraps. Had dreams of being an ol’ lady.” Schwartz snorted as though the thought disgusted him. “Stupid girl learned a hard lesson about how little whores are valued.”
All three men laughed.
All three.
Her father. Laughing at some poor woman’s pathetic life situation. Despite the pain in her heart and the sickening feeling of betraying her blood, Holly pulled her phone from her purse. After silencing it, she opened the camera and pressed record.
“Anyway,” Schwartz continued. “Five hundred bucks goes a long way in Carli’s world and she was more than willing to do anything I wanted.”
“You fuck ’er?” Higgins asked, and Holly nearly vomited.
No one said anything for a second then all three laughed again. She imagined Schwartz winking or making some kind of obscene gesture.
“Let’s get serious for a second,” her father said. “She was able to plant the drugs, right?”
Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
Plant the drugs?
This could not be happening.
Holly bit down on her lower lip, hard, to keep from screaming. A tiny whimper of pain escaped, and she clamped a hand over her mouth and held her breath. The men seemed completely oblivious to her presence. Tears streamed down her face, landing on the screen of her phone. She’d just recorded her father admitting he’d planted evidence to frame the Hell’s Handlers.
“She did it, not sure how she managed to smuggle that much meth in when she was wearing next to nothing, but the woman pulled it off.”
Higgins snorted. “Probably shoved it up ’er twat.”
“Maybe,” her dad said. “Who gives a fuck? The deed is done, and we’ll find enough meth in enough places around that clubhouse to arrest a good handful of them. Enough to fuck up their businesses both legal and illegal for a while. Judge Milson is home today with his family. We can get a warrant signed five minutes after the whore calls it in.”
Never once in her entire life had she heard her father refer to a woman as a whore. Even when he arrested prostitutes as a beat cop. What the hell happened to the man she grew up with?
His daughter was murdered by a biker.
“So what’s Carli gonna say when she calls into dispatch?” Higgins asked.
With a laugh, Schwartz responded, “She’s good, I’ll give her that much. She’s gonna be all weepy and say she met this guy, thought he was really fucking fun, partied with him. When he took her back to his room, she found the drugs in his bathroom. She’s gonna act all heartbroken because she thought she’d finally met a good guy.”
“Jesus,” her dad said with a chuckle. “Like taking candy from a fucking baby.”
“Where’d she plant it?” Higgins asked.
“Told her not to tell us. Can’t have it looking too easy. This way, when we show up with a search warrant, we actually have to fucking search. Don’t worry about being too careful with their shit, either,” her dad said, and of course, the goons laughed.
Holly trembled as she took two silent steps back down the hall. Thirty minutes wasn’t a lot of time to get to the clubhouse, let them know what was going on, and for the men to find the drugs. Just as she was about to pick up her pace, Schwartz spoke again.
“This is pretty fucking genius, Sheriff. How’d you think of it?”
Her dad snorted. “Ain’t my first rodeo, boys.”
Holly froze again. What? He’d done this before? Set someone up? Jesus, as bad as this was, she’d kinda hoped he’d just lost his mind over his biker hatred and acted out of character. But to know he’d been dirty before?
For a second, she worried she’d pass out if she heard much more, but how could she leave now? She tip-toed closer to the door once again.
“No shit?” Higgins asked.
“Yeah, back in Florida, there was an MC, real nasty fuckers. Legit drug dealers, weapons traffickers, prostitution, the works. They were slick, though. Couldn’t pin a goddamned thing on them.”
“So how’d you get ’em?”
Holly couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even blink. How’d he get them?
“About a week after my daughter was murdered, a drifter was arrested on a drunk and disorderly. We found my daughter’s necklace in his pocket. Didn’t take much to break the guy. He squealed after just a few whacks to the ribs. Confessed to my daughter’s murder.”
What?
But Curly had murdered Joy. Hadn’t he? She’d been told that for the past twelve years…
Oh shit.
No.
No! He couldn’t have.
“Oh man, if yer going where I think yer going with this, yer a fucking genius,” Higgins said.
She could practically see the evil grin cross her father’s face. “Bet you’re ass I am. My partner and I kept the confession on the down-low. Destroyed the interrogation tapes. We got lucky with the drifter. Committed suicide before we could even take care of him ourselves. Didn’t take much to plant my daughter’s body on one of the MC’s properties. Did something similar to what we’re doing with Carli. Paid some cracked-out whore to sneak Joy’s necklace into the clubhouse. She also took a few things from the clubhouse, which we planted with the body. Bing, bang, boom, irrefutable evidence. Guy’s rotting away for life, and the MC fucking crumbled after that.”
“Fuck,” Schwartz said. “You’re my fucking hero, Sheriff.”
Holly stood in the hall, hand over her mouth and shaking her head. How was it even possible her entire world had imploded in a matter of seconds? With unsteady fingers, she ended the recording. If someone heard that, her father would spend the rest of his life behind bars. But how could she keep it to herself and still look in the m
irror each morning? An innocent man was rotting behind bars for her sister’s murder.
Disgusting.
“Twenty-five minutes,” Higgins said. Then someone clapped their hands together once and rubbed them as though preparing to dig in to a delicious spread.
Twenty-five minutes. Not a lot of time. As quickly as she dared, Holly tiptoe-ran toward the exit. With soft hands, she pushed the door open, slipped out, then held it as it closed so it wouldn’t make a sound. Once outside, she darted to her car. If they heard or saw her, she was screwed, so she circled her car around the building and left via the back exit. The maneuver avoided the conference room windows.
The moment she pulled out onto the highway, Holly floored the gas pedal. Her car shot forward, sputtered, then the speed began to drop.
“No, no, no!” she cried, slamming her palm on the steering wheel. “They said they fixed it! Shit!” She pulled off to the side of the road just in time for the car to utter a pitiful coughing noise and flat out die. Smoke drifted up from under the hood. Cars were not her thing; she knew next to nothing about them, so there wasn’t even a point in looking under the hood.
“Fuuuck!” she screamed. “What do I do? What do I do?” All she knew was she needed to get to the clubhouse even if she had to jump on the hood of a passing vehicle.
Jazz. She could call Jazz.
Scrambling, she opened her phone. “Hey, girl,” Jazz said after answering at the end of the first ring. “Aren’t you supposed to be—”
“Jazz, my car broke down on Chestnut Hill Road. I need you to come get me right now and drive me to the clubhouse. I can’t explain now, but it’s one hundred and ten percent an emergency.”
“Leaving the diner now.” The clatter of Jazz’s keys sounded in the background. “I’ll be to you in less than three minutes. Just tell me if you’re hurt.”
“No. Not hurt.”
Not physically anyway.
“Okay, I’m coming, girl. Hang tight.” Jazz disconnected the call and Holly waited by her car. She couldn’t stand still to save her life, so she paced. Something, anything to burn up the anxious energy shooting through her nervous system.
As promised, Jazz rolled up in two minutes and fifty-two seconds. Before the car had stopped, Holly had ripped the door open and hopped in. “Clubhouse, Jazz, ten minutes ago.”
“Okay, hold on to your seat.” She hit the gas so hard, Holly flew back into the seat, but it was exactly what they needed to get to the clubhouse in time.
“Girl, you’re so tense, you look like you’re gonna shatter if we hit a bump. Tell me what’s going on?”
“M-my father, Schwartz, and Higgins are framing the club. They had someone plant drugs there last night. A lot of drugs. They’ll be at the clubhouse to search in less than twenty minutes.”
“Fuck.” The car sped up.
The drive to the clubhouse took ten minutes, and that was with Jazz flying twenty over the speed limit the entire ride. “What if he won’t speak to me?” Holly asked as Jazz pulled up to the gate.
She snorted. “He’ll speak to you, trust me. He’ll probably jump you the second you walk through the door. They’re in church, by the way,” Jazz said as the prospect guarding the gate waved her by.
“Oh great, so I get to bust in on all of them at once?”
“Least you only have to say it all one time.”
“Small silver lining, I guess.” She gnawed on her lip. The poor thing was going to need stitches at this point.
Jazz didn’t bother pulling into a parking spot. She screeched the car to a stop as close as possible to the entrance. Both women ignored the gate prospect yelling at Jazz’s driving. “Good luck, girl. I’ll deal with the prospect and be right in.”
“You’re the best, Jazz.” After a quick hug, Holly was out the door and rushing into the clubhouse. Too bad she hadn’t had time to prepare what exactly she was going to say to the room full of intimidating men.
As she charged through the quiet bar area toward the chapel doors, Thunder yelled out, “Holly! They’re in church! You can’t go—”
“It’s a fucking emergency,” she screamed over her shoulder.
“Shit.” Thunder’s boots pounded after her, but she didn’t stop.
She couldn’t stop.
Not when she was under the gun to save the man she loved and his entire family.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
LJ SCOWLED AT the clock on the wall for the tenth time since church began, fifteen minutes ago. Never had he wanted to escape his brothers like he did at that moment. Now that he’d finally spoken to Jazz and heard how devastated Holly had been after he pulled a disappearing act last week, he wanted nothing more than to go claim his woman. A few times, he’d almost shot her a text, but winning her back needed to be done in person.
“All right let’s pipe the fuck down for a few minutes. Got some serious shit to go over with you.” As he spoke, Copper glanced at LJ one too many times for his liking.
Shit. He’d put money on this having something to do with Holly’s father.
“We got trouble?” Jigsaw asked.
Copper stroked his beard. “Not sure yet. Could be. Wanted to run my info by you guys and get your take.” He flicked another look at LJ.
What the fuck?
“I’ve been looking into the death of Holly’s sister.”
LJ’s spine straightened. “What the fuck?”
Holding up his hand, Copper said, “Hear me out, brother.”
“All right.” LJ stood down but didn’t fucking relax. Copper didn’t do shit willy nilly. If he thought this was necessary, there had to be a good reason for it.
“Guy serving time for the death of Joy Lane was a president of a one-percenter club down near Tampa. Goes by the handle Curly. Their club was into shit we ain’t, but not fucking murdering little girls. Club’s gone now. Lane tore it to fucking pieces after his daughter was killed. Anyway, Curly has maintained his innocence through the investigation, trial, and still, after twelve years of incarceration, swears he was set up.” Another look in LJ’s direction.
“Spit it out already, Cop,” LJ said.
“I was able to speak with him at the prison. Says Sheriff Lane spent his career trying to take out the MC. After one too many failed attempts, this guy swears Lane framed him. Says he’d stake the life of any one of his men on it. Doesn’t know how, but he’s one hundred percent confident Lane is the man responsible for his arrest. Swears to fuck and back he didn’t kill the girl.”
“Oh fuck,” LJ whispered.
“Fuck,” Mav echoed. “Shit, Cop, this is a goddamn fucking mess. You believe him?”
This time, Copper locked gazes with LJ. “Don’t know the guy for shit, but my gut tells me he’s innocent. Whether the sheriff was the one who framed him, I can’t be sure, but it’s not ringing as out of the realm of possibility, is it?”
This was going to destroy Holly. Absolutely shatter what remained of her heart.
“You’ll get her through it, brother,” Rocket said, as he landed his hand on LJ’s shoulder.
He looked up. “Sorry, didn’t realize I’d spoken out loud.”
“We got your back, brother,” Zach said from across the table. “Your woman’s too.”
LJ grunted. “Pretty sure she ain’t my woman right now.”
“Eh,” Mav said with a wave of his hand. “Details.”
Leave it to Mav to finally have him cracking a smile.
“So, what do we d—”
The double doors leading to the chapel flew open, and as though he’d conjured her with his mind, there stood Holly.
Thunder ran up behind her a second later. “Shit! Fuck, Copper, I’m sorry. She ran past me. She’s fucking fast.” He shot Holly a dirty look, but she paid him no attention. Instead, her gaze shifted between LJ and Copper.
Her eyes were wide, frenzied and her chest rose and fell in a rapid clip. Could have been from running in there, but the way she was fiddling with the hem of her
shirt led LJ to believe something was stressing her in a major way. Almost to the point of panic.
LJ stood. So did Copper. “What’s wrong, Holly?”
Ahh, so his oh-shit meter shot off the charts as well.
“I—” She looked around the room then shook her head. In a strangled voice, she whispered, “My father will be here in about ten minutes with I don’t know how much backup. He paid some woman named Carli to plant drugs in the clubhouse. I don’t know where and I don’t know how much, but I know it’s enough to have you all arrested for intent to distribute.” She spoke so fast the words rushed together.
LJ jumped to his feet. Jesus Christ, how had she found this out? Her father wouldn’t have told her without serious motivation. “Sugar—” he started at the same time Copper barked, “Later, LJ. You said ten minutes?”
“Holly nodded. I’d say ten to fifteen by the time they get the warrant signed and get here.”
Copper placed his palms flat on the table. He leaned forward and scanned each face in the room. “Get searching, men. Every fucking nook and cranny in this goddamned place. We start in the rooms of anyone who spent five seconds alone with Carli. Thunder?”
“On it,” he said before jetting out the door, looking a little green around the gills.
“Get fucking moving!” Copper barked. The men jumped to their feet, and all fled the room. The sounds pounding of motorcycle boots across the floors rang out a thunderous crescendo.
Though he needed to help his brothers, LJ stayed rooted to his spot, eyes glued to Holly. She stared at him right back. God, he’d missed her. Even frazzled as fuck, she looked so damn beautiful.
“Holly,” Copper said, breaking the spell.
“Y-yes?”
Fuck, LJ hated the uncertainty in her voice. As though she’d done something wrong by being related to the bastard.
“LJ needs to go search his room. If your father wants anyone to go down, it’s him.”
She gasped. “Yes. LJ, go please! You can’t—it’ll kill me if—” She swallowed and shook her head. “Please go. We’ll talk later.”