“Transferred?” I asked.
“Yep. You’re being booked. Maximum security jail up the road until your case can get looked at.”
“But I didn’t do anything,” I said.
“It ain’t my problem,” the cop said.
He slapped handcuffs on me as The Black Saddles began to snicker.
“We got a load of drunks coming to be dumped in the tank so they can sober up. Means you assholes gotta go somewhere else until we can deal with ya.”
“Assholes? As in… plural?” I asked.
Then, I heard another door creak open as I turned my head around and looked. I saw two cops going for the two Saddle members on the bench and I bit back a groan.
Fucking fantastic. Not only was I about to be thrown in jail, I was going with two men who thought I’d killed one of their own.
Looked like I was gonna have to make up my own damn protection now.
Chapter 4
Monroe
“The Dead Souls are what?” I asked.
“A biker club based out of Redding,” Rose said. “They keep us on retainer to help them out of their problems and we come when they call.”
“But only when they haven’t done anything, right?” I asked.
Rose shot me a look I didn’t like as the two of us sat in my office.
“Miss Williams, what you need to understand about my husband and I’s practice is that we represent any client who can pay our fees. We’re good at what we do and we only hire the best. It’s why I encouraged my husband to hire you on.”
“He told me you entrusted him with that responsibility,” I said.
“Oh, he’s so cute. I love him more and more every day,” she said. “Now, we’ve gotten a call from Diesel-”
“I’m sorry, I still can’t get past the fact that we’re representing a biker gang. Are we representing them because they are innocent in something? Or because there are loopholes we can catapult them through?”
Rose’s eyes hardened as she looked up from her file folder.
“I understand you’re fresh out of school, so let me give you a crash course in your first lesson. Being successful and making a living in any law firm requires a bit of risk. Most of the clients you take on will truly need your help. Mothers getting away from bad home situations and children being abused by their parents. It happens more in this town than you think. There are people who even travel out of town to seek out our services.”
“Good,” I said. “Because we should be helping them.”
“But there is one entity that runs this town, and that’s The Dead Souls. If you want to stay in business around here, you cooperate with them.”
“So… they’re blackmailing you for help,” I said.
“Hardly. There’s nothing to blackmail us with. They came to us about a decade ago to try out our services, and they kept us on retainer.”
“What happened?”
“Diesel, the head of the club, was being accused of selling drugs on the street.”
“Which wasn’t true… right?” I asked.
“Correct. The accusations were blatantly false in an attempt to bring them down. The DEA was looking for a way to stop their rumored activities, so they tried pinning drugs on them to get a leg up. I dug deep enough and found the evidence necessary to get the charges dropped, and they put us on a monthly retainer.”
“You said ‘rumored activities’. What are these… activities you speak of?” I asked.
Rose handed me the file she was holding and I began scanning the documents. Everything I was looking at was insane. Money laundering. Money running. Supposed connections with some of the most notorious crime families in the nation. Rose had to be kidding me. I wasn’t going to defend people like this. What the hell kind of law firm had hired me? Did they think I was really going to agree to something like this?
“I can see the disgust written all over your face,” Rose said.
“I can’t defend people like this,” I said. “They’re nothing but low life criminals. They deserve to be in jail if even half the stuff in that file is accurate.”
“People in this nation are innocent until proven guilty, despite how the media portrays it. There is no evidence linking them to any of these supposed crimes, so for all we know The Dead Souls are just some guys who ride bikes to get away from their boring lives in accounting and managing.”
“Seriously. That’s what you believe?” I asked. “They think they’re above the law.”
“And you know this from a file?” she asked.
“No, I know this because pieces are starting to fall in place. This isn’t my first day in this town, it’s only my first day at work. I moved in three weeks ago. I’ve heard people talk. I’ve seen the bikes rumble by with men in black leather vests with logos on their backs. I’ve seen the way they march into an establishment and people cower at their presence.”
“They’re hardly scary men. People concoct ghost stories in their minds. That isn’t anything we can be held accountable for. Or them, for that matter.”
“But all ghost stories have been born out of a truth. All rumors got started from somewhere, and it’s almost always an inherent truth.”
“Can you prove that in a court of law?” she asked.
I scoffed as I sat back into my chair.
“Miss Williams, I was like you once. Bright eyed, bushy tailed, and ready to take on the evil of this world. What you have to understand is that evil is always going to exist. There isn’t a gauge for how bright it is outside until night falls. Evil and good, they keep one another in check. But there are those that toe the line and get wrongly placed into either the light or the dark.”
“You’re giving me the ‘gray area’ speech to defend our defense of criminals?” I asked.
“No. I’m giving you the ‘gray area’ speech because time and time again The Dead Souls have been placed there. In the gray area, toeing between light and dark. Evil and good. And because of how they act and what they look like, entities like the DEA have tried to shove them into one area for their own selfishly sought-out motives. When I was defending Diesel in that courtroom, I wasn’t defending him. I was railing against the fact that the DEA as a whole thought they could force their own predisposed will onto another group of people. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, that links The Dead Souls to their rumored activities. But that doesn’t mean people can pin things on them simply because they feel they are guilty. That’s why things are proven in a court of law.”
I hated the fact that she made sense. I hated the fact that Rose could justify this in my mind. I was listening to the act of a very talented lawyer and even she was swaying me away from what I knew was wrong. But she was right. It sucked to admit it, but she was. That was the exact reason why evidence in a courtroom was so necessary. It kept people from governing with their emotions.
I didn’t like the fact that Scott and Lowen took on clients who could pay their fees rather than taking on clients who they thought were innocent. But if I rode with Rose’s argument, then it would make sense why they wouldn’t do the latter.
That would still be governing with emotions and not with proof, which was contradictory to the life of a lawyer.
“Are you ready to take a look at the defense we need to prepare?” Rose asked.
“Can I take a second? You know, get a drink of water?” I asked.
“You can take however long you need. The first time I was asked to do this, my husband allowed me the same courtesy. So, I’ll tell you what he told me. Take as long as you need, Miss Williams, but when you come back, be ready to work or quit.”
“He called you ‘Miss Williams’?” I asked with a grin.
“You’re going to fit in here more than you think,” she said.
I grabbed my purse and walked out of the room, unsure of how to take her comment. The two of them had spunk, that was for sure. But did she mean I would fit in because of my personality, or because I was like them? I didn’t want t
o be like them. I didn’t want to be defending criminals. Had I known their reputation around the community, I never would have applied for the job.
Then again, that was what I got for not doing my proper research.
I walked into the women’s bathroom and sighed. I turned on the light, watching as it flickered above my head. I took a good, hard look at myself in the mirror, my eyes staring back at me with heavy bags underneath them.
That conversation alone aged me five years.
Was this something I was up for? Was I willing to compromise the morals I graduated with for a job? Was it possible a group of good-for-nothing thugs could really be as innocent as Rose explained? I turned on the faucet cupped the water, bringing it to my lips. I drank more than my fair share before I pulled at the paper towels, then dabbed at my skin to clear it up. I’d have to patch my makeup before I went back into the room, so I put my purse on the sink counter and pulled out the small pouch I kept stocked with essentials.
The door opened as I powdered my nose and I saw the front desk secretary walk in. She gave me a small nod before standing at the sink next to me, her hands fluffing her hair. I watched her carefully as she fixed herself up in the mirror. Her eyes kept catching mine, and soon her small smile grew into a full-sized grin.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, Miss Williams. What is it?” she asked.
“First off, what is your name?” I asked.
“Audrey,” she said.
“Beautiful name. Audrey, what is your opinion of The Dead Souls?”
I watched her freeze in the mirror as her finger paused underneath her eyeliner.
“Why do you ask?”
“I’m curious about them. I saw them ride into town a couple of weeks ago and they pretty much act like they own the place.”
“In a way, they do,” Audrey said.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“There are some small businesses around here that they do own. Like the ice cream and shaved ice shop on the corner, or the strip mall on the other side of town.”
“Like, they literally own it?” I asked.
“Mhm. Bought the places out when they were struggling and used their money to revamp things. A lot of people don’t like them, but many places we’ve all come to love wouldn’t be standing if it wasn’t for them.”
“Why don’t people like them?” I asked.
“They think they’re trouble makers. They come into town and they’re loud. People talk about catching them talking in alleyways with creepy people, but no one really talks about it. They’re more like campfire ghost stories if anything.”
“But you think they’re good people.”
“I didn’t say that,” she said with a grin. “They’ve got good in them. But they definitely have one foot in the darkness.”
“So, they’re bad.”
“Why can’t they be a little of both?” she asked.
“Because one assumes guilt and the other assumes innocence.”
“Not necessarily. Sometimes darkness is merely… darkness. Nothing bad or good about it. Just the absence of light. There are many good people who stand in the light but get caught for things you’d never expect of them, and there are plenty of people considered bad who color in the lines all the time. Light and dark don’t define innocence and guilt, they simply cast a stereotype onto a person that leads someone in that direction. Doesn’t mean they always go there.”
“Sounds like you talk with Rose a lot.”
“Rose and Bradley are good people. That doesn’t mean they don’t have their faults, but they’re good. Light. And The Dead Souls? They’re dark. They have their bad moments, but it doesn’t mean their evil,” she said.
“What do they own around town?” I asked.
“A few places. You’ve got the places I already told you about, two big coffee shops and the pet store downtown.”
“The Dead Souls own a pet store,” I said.
“What? They can’t like hamsters? What a monster you are,” Audrey said with a grin.
I giggled and shook my head as I packed up my cosmetics.
“It was good talking with you, Audrey. Maybe we could get a coffee sometime,” I said.
“You know where to find me!”
I walked out of the restroom with very little conflict actually resolved. I took my time walking back to my office as I replayed both Audrey and Rose’s words. Could I really do this? Could I really defend people who were already so obviously guilty?
Was it a fault on my part that I already assumed they were?
I threw my office door open and was met with Rose’s stare. I closed the door behind us and went to sit at my desk, then I sat my purse down and sighed.
“Ready to work?” Rose asked.
I lifted my eyes to hers as I held out my hand.
“Good. I’ve got your folder on our case right here.”
Chapter 5
Knox
The fucking orange jumpsuit they had me in was bullshit. It looked like shit, smelled like shit, and made me look like a dumbass. Whatever the hell kind of angle Diesel was working, I wanted to let him know it had landed me here. There was no fucking reason for me to be in any jail cell, much less in some maximum security state-run bullshit place like the one I was in. I didn’t kill that asshole, and I’d go to my fucking grave with that truth.
I didn’t kill Blaze.
I hadn’t talked with Diesel since I was in the damn holding cell, so I had to make sure I could be protected. They’d put those Black Saddle asshats in the same damn jail as me, and I knew why. They were hoping shit would work itself out. I’d either kill them or they’d kill me, then they could keep the offending party in jail for the rest of their lives. That was how shit worked in Redding. The guards were laughing at us in corners while we tried to fend for our lives.
But they had no idea what they were in for.
I knew Diesel would get me out of this somehow.
But until I fucking heard from someone, I had to work on my own protection. As long as I was outnumbered by Black Saddles, I wouldn’t be safe. So, I was in the yard trying to scope out who the hell I could trust.
There were segmented groups all over the damn place, but most of them I recognized. The white supremacist shitheads with swastikas tattooed all over their bodies were in the corner in the shade. Probably plotting how to kill everyone in here who didn’t look like them. Then there were the street gangs. A gathering of the 409’s, a few Tango Blasts, and a couple of assholes that I knew worked for the mafia.
Then, there were the others. People in for petty theft, setting too much shit on fire, and other bullshit things that didn’t matter in the long run. They all stuck to the front doors, trying to avoid all the hardened criminals that had cut deals to run in a place like this in exchange for testimony or information.
I was surrounded by fucking rats.
But there was one person that caught my eye. Particularly, the group of people that did. They were sitting on some benches at the far end of the yard by the wall. Around Redding, they were known as the Latin Cobras.
But it was the head of their crew I was gunning for.
I remembered when Jesús had been arrested. Him and a bunch of his guys went down for shit they proclaimed for years they didn’t fucking do. His testimony and his pleas were all over the damn news when it happened. His great-grandfather was the one who started the Latin Cobras, and his fall from grace had tainted the group and put it in the hands of some asshole I knew he probably didn’t like. Rumor had it that the guy currently in charge of them was the one that betrayed Jesús.
The one that ratted him out.
I made my way over to them as people watched me walk. I could tell by the way they were looking at me that no one approached Jesús without permission. But I was about to break that trend. I was looking for protection and I was sure there was something I could offer in return.
Especially once I got out of this fuc
king hellhole.
“The hell you want?”
I watched one of his goonies jump off a bench and hold his hand out to my chest.
“Might not wanna touch me,” I said. “I’ve been known to kill men for less.”
“That what you in here for?”
My eyes whipped over to Jesús as he motioned for his man to stand down.
“Supposedly, yes,” I said.
“So, what? You didn’t kill no man?”
“Nope. Being set up.”
“So, you like everyone else in here, huh?”
“No,” I said. “Everyone in here’s probably guilty. Except you.”
I watched him cock his head as he sucked some air through his teeth.
“What makes you think that?” Jesús asked.
“Besides you screaming it all over the news? The man who now heads your gang looks like a fucking rat,” I said.
“He’s a dirty piece of shit, that one. So, what? You come over here wanting something from us?”
“Protection,” I said. “I’m in here with a couple of guys from the gang accusing me of killing one of their own.”
“So you wanna… line up with someone so you got numbers on ‘em,” Jesús said.
“That’s the theory, yep.”
“What makes you think I’d help someone like you?” he asked.
I grinned and shook my head as Jesús let out a raucous laughter.
“I’m just shitting with ya, Knox. Get the hell over here.”
Jesús stood up from the bench and clapped my hand before he pulled me into a hug.
“How the fuck you been?” Jesús asked. “I don’t think I’ve seen ya since high school.”
“Bullshit. We briefly crossed paths ‘bout four years ago. Remember that coffee shop shootout?”
“Fuck me, that was you guys?” he asked.
“Some punk ass gang trying to ride up on our turf. I don’t know why they think they can kill us off.”
“Even I know that shit. The Dead Souls ain’t nothin’ to mess around with.”
“You know this guy?”
I looked over at another one of Jesús’ goonies, confusion crumpling up their faces.
Knox (Dead Souls MC Book 1) Page 3