Salvation (Angels Halo MC Next Gen 1)

Fisting my hands around the leather of the steering wheel, I breathed in deeply, and with my next exhale, I turned my heart to ice.

To hell with Ben Davis.

I started to put the car in gear to get the hell out of there, but something stopped me.

Was I really just going to walk away after he’d set this up to hurt me? Who the fuck did he think he was?

The truth was, I didn’t know who he was now.

But I sure as hell knew who I was. I was Raven Hannigan Reid’s daughter, and I wasn’t going to run away without letting that sonofabitch know he couldn’t play games with me and walk away unscathed.

Hitting the button for my trunk, I calmly stepped out and walked around to the back of the car. There lay two possible weapons. A tire iron and a baseball bat. The bat, Mom had put there when she and Dad had handed over the keys to the car when I graduated from high school. For protection, she’d said.

Grinning, I picked it up and walked over to Ben’s work SUV. The streetlights were on and showcased the vehicle perfectly as I swung the bat and broke both taillights. I didn’t try to kid myself that I was strong enough to take out the back window, but I sure as fuck tried. The first sound of cracking glass was music to my sobbing heart.

Once I was satisfied with the cracks in the back glass, I moved around to the front, breaking out the headlights before smashing both side mirrors.

I was so caught up in what I was doing, I didn’t even notice the cop car pull up behind me. Or the deputy who jumped out of his car with his gun drawn.

“Put the bat down, and step away from the vehicle,” a deep voice boomed behind me.

Pissed at being interrupted, I turned toward the guy. I vaguely recognized the man. I thought his name was Murphy, but I wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like I kept up with the names of all the cops in this town.

“Put the bat down!” he repeated, his voice shaking.

I nearly laughed. This was probably the most exciting thing he’d experienced in this damn little town. There wasn’t a lot of crime, and other than when Enzo Fontana tried to take out my father’s MC a few times, there hadn’t been much to talk about.

Thinking of Fontana had the laughter dying before it could be released, and I lifted the bat over my head and brought it down onto the hood of the SUV with all my strength, putting a nice dent across the middle. Drawing back, I did the same thing to the driver’s door.

No sooner had the bat made contact than was I tackled by Murphy.

He wrestled me to the ground, throwing the bat away from us so I wasn’t able to use it on him if I decided to. I struggled, but he outweighed me. My face was pushed into the asphalt, and I cursed him viciously as he squeezed my arm while putting the cuffs on me.

By the time he stood and lifted me to my feet, we were both out of breath.

“You’re under arrest for destruction of county property,” he wheezed out as he put me in the back of his car.

“Worth it,” I muttered to myself as he slammed the door.

???

I’d never been arrested before, but if I was expecting a dark and dank jail cell, I was disappointed. The jail, which was attached to the police station and right next door to the municipal office, was surprisingly clean and smelled of the cinnamon apple plug-in by the door.

Sitting on the bench, I leaned my head back against the wall,

absently rubbing at the bruises that were already forming on my wrists and my arm where Murphy had squeezed me harder than necessary. I’d only been there thirty minutes or so, but I’d already gotten to make my one phone call.

Not knowing how Dad would take my arrest, I’d called Aunt Gracie instead. She was the club’s defense attorney, as well as Uncle Hawk’s wife. I asked her not to tell my parents I was in jail, but I was pretty sure my uncle was listening in, and I doubted he would keep this from either of them.

The thick door separating the cells from the rest of the station was suddenly yanked open so hard, it banged off the wall. I cringed, expecting Dad, but when I looked up, it was to see a raging bull storming toward me.

I clenched my hands into fists, but I kept my face neutral as Ben used a set of keys to unlock my cell. Leaving the door open, he crouched down in front of me and carefully grasped my wrists, examining them. When he saw the bruises on them, the fire in his eyes spiked higher.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a voice that sounded choked.

“I’m fine,” I gritted out, jerking away from his touch.

He closed his eyes as if he were in pain, but I couldn’t handle being so close to him without wanting to punch him in the face. Standing, I walked to the other side of the cell and turned to face him.