Absolution (Heaven's Rejects MC Book 3)

by Avelyn Paige

  Nicole waves for him to get up, and I follow suit. We start for our respective vehicles, but Asher stops and runs back to me. His small arms encircle my waist as he grips me as hard as he can. Nicole watches from the background, and taps her watch impatiently.

  “Hey Asher,” I whisper to him, pulling him away from me. “This is just the beginning. How about next time we play that video game you were talking about? Maybe you could let me win.”

  He smiles up at me and nods. Without another word, he pivots and goes toward Nicole. I watch as they pull away from me. The piece of my heart that wasn’t with Ratchet was now attached to Asher, and I was forced to watch it drive away from me.

  “Soon,” I whisper to the world around me. “Soon we’ll be together again.”

  Gathering all my strength, I force myself into the truck and head home. My mind remains focused on every single thing Asher said to me to the point that I don’t even notice the flashing red and blue lights behind me.

  “Shit.” I exclaim, pulling over to the side of the road. “Don’t tell me that I spaced a stop sign.”

  The officer pulls up behind me, and walks to the driver’s side of my car. He taps on the glass, and I hand crank down the window.

  “Can I help you, officer?” I politely offer. “Was I speeding?”

  “Get out of the car, ma’am,” he demands. “Leave the keys in the ignition, and step out with your hands up.”

  “What is this about?” I question.

  “Are you not obeying my direct order?”

  Thinking about how badly this could go should I resist, I comply with his orders and step out of the truck. His hands roughly spin me around and plaster me to the side of the cab. The officer forces my legs apart, and pats me down roughly, before jerking my hands down and cuffing them.

  “Hey, why I being cuffed for a traffic stop? This isn’t necessary.”

  My pleas fall on deaf ears. The officer leads me to the back of my truck, and shoves me against the tailgate.

  “Do not move from this spot,” he gruffly commands. “Do you have any weapons or drugs in your vehicle that you would like to declare?”

  “Are you kidding me right now? Of course, not.”

  A second officer pulls up behind his squad car, and exits the vehicle with a German Shepherd leashed behind him. The officer with me steps away, and talks to the man out of my range of hearing. The canine officer opens the cab of my truck, and I watch as the dog jumps onto the seat. Within seconds, he growls and the officer handling him pulls him away from the truck.

  The original officer returns to me with my purse in hand.

  “What do you think you are doing with my purse?”

  “Shut up,” he orders and dumps out the contents in the truck bed. Using his pen, he flips through my personal belongings, and retrieves a zip lock bag with white crystals inside of it.

  What the fuck is that and why is it in my purse?

  “You lied to me.”

  “No, I didn’t. I have no idea where that bag in your hand came from. It isn’t mine,” I loudly protest.

  “The drug dog hit on your purse, and here I am holding what looks like to be a bag of crack cocaine, but you have no idea how it got here.”

  “No, sir,” I plea. “It’s not mine.”

  “Unfortunately, I don’t buy it.”

  The officer sets down the bag into the bed with my other belongings, before grabbing me by the cuffs on my wrists.

  “Erica Delmont, you are under arrest for the possession of an illegal substance. You have the right to remain silent,” the officer starts, before shoving me into the back of his squad car.

  How did one of the best days in my life lead to me being arrested? The officer shuts the door and from the window I see a familiar face on the sidewalk watching my arrest.

  My father.

  “Yeah V, she’s with him now.”

  Voodoo cracks a joke as I look down to my watch. It’s been over four hours since I dropped her off and not a peep from her yet. That I will take as a good sign. As much as I wanted to be by her side today, this needed to be between the two of them. Two lost souls damaged by their upbringing seeking solace and peace in this world. Unlike Ricca, Asher had no one except for her. This was there chance to start over together, and my chance to give Ricca something that no one else had done before. A family.

  “How’s Thor doing?”

  “He’s doing alright. The sister not so much. She has been a joy to live with,” he declares. “I’m positive she came from money, and this kind of lifestyle isn’t exactly her cup of tea, if you get my drift. I wanted to do a background search on her, but Thor threatened my manhood.”

  “Yeah, I’d leave that one alone, brother. Is she clashing with the other old ladies?”

  “Not exactly. With helping Ricca with the house, Darcy, Dani, and the others have been pretty busy. It’s the club girls that are the problem. They all apparently wanted a piece of Thor, and this chick isn’t exactly on board with their type of nursing. It’s like fight club with less bikinis and mud.”

  This news isn’t surprising at all to me if V is correct in his asset of the girl. Those who come from privileged lives aren’t good fits for club life. Being an old lady isn’t an easy position in the club. They hold no official titles, aren’t privy to club business, and have no say in most of our dealings. Raze tries to give the women more wiggle room than most other clubs, but it’s for their own protection that we keep them out of it.

  “Let me guess, Daisy and Bubbles.”

  “You hit that one on the head, but the problem has been solved. Raze blew his top this morning when he came in to find the place trashed.”

  “I take it the sister is gone.”

  “The opposite actually.”

  I almost gasp. Club whores are a dime dozen for us, but these two women had been with us a long time. Ruby depended on them when it came to keeping the clubhouse in ship shape, but if you cause trouble, you’ll be doing it from the outside. There’s enough drama and bullshit in the world to deal with bad behaving pussies.

  Voodoo babbles on about some woman that he had met online. Leave it to him to find pussy on the Internet that he loves so much.

  “You sure she’s real? And not catbaiting you?”

  “Catbaiting?” he chuckles. “Dude, it’s catfishing, and do you seriously think I didn’t check on that shit right off the bat? Hello, computer genius here.”

  “Hey, I barely function with my phone and a Google search. I leave that other shit to you.”

  “She’s real, trust me.”

  The confident tone of his voice tells me he’s serious about this crazy ass shit. Meeting someone online is a dangerous business these days, so I really hope that he did in fact do his homework. I’d never let him live it down if he went to meet this chick and it turned out to be a dude.

  “Are you going to meet her anytime soon?” I question, prying to see just how far he’s gone down the Internet dating rabbit hole.

  “That’s the problematic part,” he confesses with disappointment clear in his voice. “She’s not local, but I hope that once you’re back and she’s still interested that I can get a few days off to give that a try. So hurry up, asshole.”

  Jesus, he does have a hard on for this chick. As long as I have known him, I’ve never seen him stick to just one woman. He was a favorite amongst the club girls, and he wasn’t afraid to flaunt that fact. The only steady relationship that he’d ever had was the computer that sat in his office, and probably a bottle of petroleum jelly.

  “I’m trying my best, brother. If today goes as well as I think it is right now, we could be able to fast track the paperwork.”

  An idea pops into my head that might just help us out even more.

  “Say, how hard would it be for you to hack a government computer again? Like you did for the marriage license?”

  Voodoo lets out an exaggerated sigh, before answering
me.

  “Dude, that was child’s play. The State of California really needs to hire someone who actually knows how the dark web works. One link click, and the ransom ware going around, would shut them down for weeks.”

  “I don’t need the play by play, V. Is it possible?”

  “Of course, it is. What are you thinking?”

  The idea I have teeters on the edge of my tongue. If I go through with this and V gets caught, this could hurt our case. Meddling with court documents could land us both in jail. The devil on my shoulder is screaming for me to ask, but the lesser evil version on the other is telling me to rethink this. A thing that I had never done, before meeting Ricca. My mind used to be so clear on my path. I never second-guessed myself once, but when it’s not just you anymore that you have to care about, it’s completely different. I had made a mistake in giving Ginny her space to protect her, but all it gave me was the painful memories of her death. A mistake that I wouldn’t deal with again.

  “I need you to hack the caseworker who did the home study for us, and find out where we stand with her recommendation to the court. Think you could do that?’

  “Dude, I am already ahead of you. She told Darcy and Raze that they were her last interview, and that she’d be finishing her report soon. I’ve been remotely monitoring her computer for it since.”

  “I would tell you that I love you, but you might just take it the other way.”

  “Awe Ratchy,” he teases. “I didn’t know you felt that way about me.”

  Voodoo laughs, and I pray that this asshole doesn’t have the phone on speaker again. I listen for the roar of laughter in the background, but it remains silent. Thank fucking god for that.

  “I’ll let you know as soon as I do, brother.” He interjects between his snickers. “Shouldn’t be too much longer.”

  “Thanks, V. I owe you. Say, how did Ricca react when she was out there? She try to kick your ass?”

  Voodoo starts to answer me, but a large boom comes from outside the trailer. The thin trailer door flies open and a canister is shot into the void. It thuds against the wall, before ricocheting to the ground. An explosion of gas flashes before me, before I can make a move. With my phone still in my hand, the noxious gas fills my lungs. I sputter trying to breathe in clean air, but fall down off the couch onto my knees. Two dark figures break through the plane of the door, and head straight for me. The cloudiness in the air blocks out their identities. Two pairs of hands grab, and pull me forward towards the door. As soon as we reach clean air, I gasp. My lungs heave trying to inhale fresh air into my burning lungs. The water pouring from my irritated eyes still blurs the scene, and my ears ring from the explosion.

  “Up,” a muffled voice demands. I shake my head to try to recover my hearing, but the ringing continues.

  “I can’t hear you,” I yell out.

  The people holding me jerk me to my feet, but don’t free my hands.

  “Get up, motherfucker,” a voice finally pushes through the high-pitch squeals.

  I rub my eyes off my shoulders, and squint. Two men in dark blue officer’s uniforms are holding me up. Their faces are obscured with black gas masks. Only their eyes are visible.

  “What the fuck?” I bellow. “Was there a gas explosion?” I question trying to rationalize the scene before me. One of the men’s muttered voice goes unheard, and before I can stop it, I am being cuffed and shoved in the back of an awaiting squad car. As I am shoved inside, one of the officers rips my phone out of my hands cancelling my ability to call for help or record the intrusion.

  “What the fuck is going on?” I scream. My blurry vision finally clears as I watch a group of men enter the trailer.

  Is this a fucking raid? Why the hell are they doing this? This must be a mistake. There’s no cause for this.

  I try to call out to the officer standing outside of the car, but my pleas fall on deaf ears. He doesn’t even turn to acknowledge me.

  I watch in horror as an officer tosses item after item out of the trailer. Anger flourishes within me as I am forced to watch them destroy our home.

  “Where’s the warrant?” I yell. “This is illegal!”

  “Shut up, in there.” The officer orders.

  Two hours pass by, and I am still stuck in the squad car, waiting for answers. Minute by minute, I become a ticking time bomb of rage on the brink of explosion. Ricca’s absence tells me that this isn’t a coincidence. Something has happened, and I need answers now.

  Finally, an officer approaches the car, and throws the door ajar. He reaches in and pulls me out of the car, making sure to shove me against the warm, metal exterior of the squad car. My joints ache from the cramped backseat of the car, but I fight through the discomfort.

  “Where are the rest of the drugs?” the officer barks at me. “Where are they hidden?”

  “Drugs? What drugs? We don’t have that shit here. You’ve got the wrong place.”

  “Don’t lie to me. Your wife was picked up with them. They have to be here,” he tells me.

  “The place is clean, sir,” a different officer says stepping up beside us.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Tossed the entire place, sir. No hits from the dogs. If she had drugs here, she’s cleaned up her tracks.”

  “Fuck,” the officer holding me exclaims. “Fine. Get everyone out. We’re done here.”

  “Bullshit,” I respond through gritted teeth. “Where’s your warrant and where’s my wife?”

  “Your wife, Mr. Azzo, is currently where she belongs, in the Hancock County Jail. She’s been charged with a Class D felony of possession of cocaine.”

  Fuck, Ricca had drugs? Had she slipped off the sobriety wagon and started using again under my nose? Did this start in California?

  My body roars in rage over this bullshit charge. I would have known if she was using again. Her body would have shown the signs of it. Track marks, dilated pupils, or even a bloody fucking nose. Absolutely nothing. Besides the fact that cocaine was never her drug of choice, this was nothing but bullshit. Something else is happening here.

  The officer clicks the cuffs on my wrists open, and I rub them to relieve the pain from the metal biting into my skin.

  “You’re free to go, but I’ll be keeping a close tab on this place, don’t even think about trying to bring drugs in here after we leave.”

  I sneer at the officer, but as much as I want to take a swing at him, I can’t. If I am in jail, that doesn’t help Ricca, if she really has been arrested. The men clear out of the scene, and the officer who took my phone from my hand gives it back to me. He no doubt put a tracker on it, and I know that I may need to ditch it for a new one.

  I wait for them to leave, before I start back for the trailer. The scene in front sends a growl screaming from my mouth. Every inch of this place is destroyed. The new wood panels and carpet has been ripped up and torn away. The furniture has slashes in each cushion with stuffing scattered around the floor. Even our bed has been torn apart.

  All for the sake of searching for drugs that aren’t here, and probably never were. The dark side of me roars to life from its dormant state. This may not be California, but even I know that to do this much destruction that there had to be probable cause. The officer never issued me a warrant for his search, which tells me right off the bat this is was illegal as fuck. Nothing about the situation seems right.

  Securing this place should have been my first priority, but it’s not. Ricca is in trouble, and that trumps everything. Looking down to the phone in my hand, I know what I need to do.

  I hit the button next to Raze’s name, and call in the cavalry. If it’s a war they want, it’s a war they’ll get. No one messes with my family and lives.

  The yells and pleas of the other inmates, surrounding me, echo off the walls. My head pounds from them, and they remain unanswered.

  My head hangs in my hands as I try to wrap my mind around my current situation. In one fleeting
moment, I thought that I had it all only for it to be taken away just as fast.

  This was my father’s doing. The smirk on his weathered face told me the truth as I watched him from the squad car. He did this to punish me. This was the price that I had to pay for that moment with Asher. Remembering the smile on his face is all I’ll have now. The deputy that booked me assured me multiple times that bail and freedom were two words that I should just forgot the meanings of.

  How he had access to my truck boggles my mind. I never left it unlocked, despite the low chances of it being stolen or ransacked in this town. Too many years of having everything I owned striped away from me, taught me that lesson. Protect yourself, and the things you cherished most. Yet, here I was. Alone in my own agonizing memory with only hope left to pray for. Hope that the man I love would see through the farce of these charges and free me. Even with that hope, self-doubt took over my thoughts. Would he run for the hills or would he be the knight in shining armor after all? Only time would tell, and I had plenty of time to kill in here.

  Heavy footsteps ricochet off the walls as they move toward my cell. A female officer steps into view, and her hands fall to the lock of my holding cell.

  My heart pounds with the hope that this madness is over already.

  “You have a visitor,” she bellows, fiddling with the lock.

  As quickly as my heart raced, it now slows in a slow beat of despair. Visitors within a few hours of imprisonment meant only one thing. My court appointed attorney was here, and with his or her arrival, my hope of leaving any time soon diminishes.

  The officer slides open the door and it clangs against the bricks as it stops. She motions for me to step forward with a pair of handcuffs dangling from her handcuffs. I outstretch my wrists as she shackles me. The cold metal sends a shutter throughout my body.

  “This way, inmate.” She orders. I step out in front of her, and she follows closely behind. Each cell I pass, the faces of those inside are hardened or fearful. A combination that I too have felt in here.