Good Gone Bad (The Fallen Men 3)

I knew Danner wouldn’t involve me in the investigation if his life depended on it, but I figured his colleagues would be only too happy to risk the life of a biker bitch with a rap sheet if it meant bringing down the biggest source of illegal firearm smuggling in the province.

I was proved right the minute I told the receptionist my name and reason for being there. Minutes later, I was set up in a room with a large black man named Sergeant Renner and a very beautiful female officer by the name of Casey.

“So, we’re just supposed to believe you’re doing this out of the goodness of your heart?” Renner asked, his arms crossed over his chest, a scowl affixed to his face.

Clearly, he was playing Bad Cop.

I shrugged. “The words ‘good’ and ‘my heart’ don’t have much in common, but we can go with that if you want to be poetic. I’m here because I want to take down the Berserkers. Does it really matter why?”

“It does,” Casey explained with a lovely smile that made me instantly dislike her. “We need to know you have the proper motivation.”

“A member of their club beat me and tried to rape me, they bring thousands of dollars’ worth of illegal firearms into the province every year, which contributes to making Vancouver have the highest rate of gun crime per capita in the country.” I unwrapped a piece of Hubba Bubba gum from my pocket and popped it into my mouth. “That good enough for ya?”

“It has nothing to do with the fact that your father is the President of a motorcycle club based in Entrance? To our knowledge they don’t have a history of discord, but how are we supposed to believe that you aren’t doing this to better your father’s club?” Renner asked.

I hadn’t thought of that. Of course, they were kind of right. I did want to take down Berserkers MC because of my family, because I wanted to protect them. Not that I was going to tell them that.

“I guess you can’t really know, but as you said, there is no history of beef between the two MC’s.” The two officers shared a look and I felt traction slide out from under me. “What about this? I promise to limit contact with my family until the investigation is over.”

They looked just as shocked as I felt about making that concession.

I spoke to my family every day, even more since the accident. Cress and King had graduated from UBC the year before, but we were used to seeing each other weekly so they called a lot, just to shoot the shit. Loulou and I had been through hell together, so I didn’t think it was strange that we texted every day, sometimes just with memes or song suggestions, any excuse to make contact. My dad texted me twice a day, every day since I’d moved to Vancouver for university. Once in the morning before I left for school saying “kick some academic ass today, princess,” and the other before I went to bed every night, “dream sweet, little badass.”

I loved them. They were a critical part of my day even though I lived an hour away.

But yeah, I’d give that up if it meant keeping them safe.

They wouldn’t understand, but maybe I could use the incident as a reason to need space…

“Miss Garro?” Casey asked. “You’re that serious about this?”

“I am,” I said and I could feel that one word like a signature in blood on contract with the devil.

After all, who better to represent the devil to a biker chick than the cops?

It was basically a breeze after that, which made me mildly uneasy. How many confidential informants did the cops have? I’d have to mention to Dad when this was all over how ridiculously easy it was to convince them to take me on.

They explained the ins and outs of the operation, that I was to look for evidence that would incriminate the club in smuggling and arms dealing. I would report to my ‘handler’ the wonderfully pretty Casey by text over a newly gifted burner phone only when I had something important to relate, and that from this point on I would be referred to only by my number designation.

I requested the number 69, but cops never had a sense of humor.

Casey was walking me out of the room, confirming that our met place would be UBC’s Café Ami, when I felt the mood hit the room.

Palpable anger rolled through the station like a nuclear blast, drawing everyone’s attention to the front of the station where Danner stood staring at Casey and me.

Oh, boy.

A thrill of delicious fear and anticipation zapped down my back. There was nothing like an angry hot guy to make a girl weak in the knees.