Blood & Bones: Rook (Blood Fury MC 7)

Steady, brother. Think with your head ‘stead of your fuckin’ fists. Figure a way outta this without blowin’ your damn secret.

That wouldn’t be good for her or you.

Breathe. Just fuckin’ breathe.

Cujo had beelined to where the tall man kept a secure grip on Jet, forcing her farther into The Barn. Rook’s nostrils flared when Scar used his snow-covered boot to sweep the dog out of his way. Cujo growled and latched onto the bottom of his pant leg as the prospect shoved Jet so hard, she fell forward and landed with a grunt onto her knees.

Rook quickly inspected her from head to toe to make sure he didn’t need to plug a bullet into Scar that very second. He spotted the empty holsters for both her gun and taser along with her damn cuffs hooked to Scar’s belt loop. The same ones they used in bed a couple of weeks ago.

Fuckin’ son of bitch.

Cujo continued to growl and snap at Scar as he jammed Jet’s taser into the back of her head. “You don’t fuckin’ move. Not even a fuckin’ inch.”

Her hair had been partially pulled free from one side of the knot she kept it up in when she worked.

“What’s goin’ on?” Rook said, trying to keep his voice level, even as Jet’s crystal blue eyes met his.

“Found this pig bitch outside.”

Why the fuck would she come to the farm? Especially in the middle of the night?

Thank fuck she didn’t appear panicked and seemed to be more than patient with the man who could kill her and not even blink when he did.

She was biding her time.

Even so, he couldn’t let her do whatever she might be thinking about doing. Knowing Scar like he did, it wouldn’t end badly for him, but it would for her.

Rook would not allow that to happen.

Her right hand was pressed flat to the side of her calf and his eyes automatically landed on her ankle where she kept her backup weapon. Her .38.

Fuck.

He shook his head the slightest bit, hoping she’d pick up on it. “What’d you do with her gun?”

“The fuckin’ bitch tried to pull it on me.”

“Where’s it at?” Rook asked, keeping his tone as level as possible and taking a step closer.

“I got it.”

“Where?”

Scar’s face went dark and he frowned. “Why you care?”

“‘Cause she’s well-known in this town, Scar. This ain’t the big city where the cops outnumber the cockroaches. They’re all known and loved here. And most of them are related. The club’s already got enough shit goin’ down with one family, we don’t need another one who wears badges breathin’ down our fuckin’ necks, too.”

“She was outside bein’ nosy.”

“Pigs tend to be nosy, brother, you know that. Always lookin’ for a way to trap us and throw us back behind bars.”

“Yeah. That’s why she’s here. Lookin’ for a fuckin’ excuse to throw us back into concrete boxes.”

“Doubt she’s here for you. Are you, Bryson?” Rook gave Jet a look he hoped she could read.

Thank fuck she could. She shook her head. “No. I didn’t come here looking to make trouble.”

“Pigs are always trouble,” Scar growled, shoving her head forward again with the end of the taser.

Rook saw Jet’s jaw tighten. “Sure we can work out whatever the fuck this is about.”

“You want me to get Trip?” Easy asked softly, right behind him.

Fuck, he’d been concentrating so hard on Scar and Jet, he’d forgotten about Easy.

“No, no reason to pull the prez from his warm bed and away from his even warmer ol’ lady. I got this shit.”

The less others were involved in this matter, the better.

Rook held a palm up toward Scar. “Look, brother, I know her. The PD and her family are our customers at the garage. Wanna keep it that way. Dutch will be pissed if you fuck up that lucrative source of income. Lemme handle this. I’ll find out why the fuck she’s here and send her on her way. Nobody’s gotta get hauled in tonight. Includin’ you if you don’t do anythin’ stupid.” Which he already did and Rook only hoped Jet would let it slide.

“Don’t like that pigs are sniffin’ around here, Rook. You didn’t say shit about that before I came.”

“No, ‘cause they normally ain’t a problem. They usually leave us the fuck alone. She probably got a good reason to be here? Don’t you, Bryson?”

Jesus fuck, come up with a good fuckin’ reason, Jet.

“In the middle of the fuckin’ night? She shoulda arranged a meet with our prez.”

That would be true if what Rook said was also true. But it wasn’t. What he said was a big, fat lie.

“Let her up, give her her shit back and go hit your rack. I got this handled.”

“I have some info for you about the Shirleys,” Jet finally said, playing along.

“Why the fuck would you give us info on our enemy?” Scar barked, jamming the taser into the back of her head again, even harder this time, making Jet set her jaw and narrow her eyes. Her fingers twitched against her uniformed leg. Probably itching to grab her .38.