Good Gone Bad (The Fallen Men 3)

“Yeah? What’s goin’ on?” he asked, leaning forward, his weathered face further creased with concern.

He may have been a corrupt man, but he was a loving uncle.

Perfect.

My voice was shaky as I said, “I got a friend who’s dating a brother of Berserkers MC. She told me they’re on the lookout for Honey, that she owes ’em somethin’ like five grand worth of drug money.”

“Fuck,” he swore savagely, shock punched in block letters across his face. “Knew she was usin’, didn’t know she was doin’ it outta Berserker pockets.”

I nodded, carefully working a tear into my eye that wasn’t entirely false. I was lying about Honey’s involvement in the MC, obviously, but her real predicament with Irina Ventura’s pornography company, was enough to spill tears over too.

“Not sure you know much about the club, but they’re fuckin’ ruthless. If she doesn’t pay up and soon, they find her, they’ll kill her.”

“Holy fuck,” he said, tugging on his orange mustache so hard it had to hurt. “Fuck me. I didn’t know.”

“You know the club?” I asked carefully.

He looked at me for a long moment, pulling his mustache compulsively. “Yeah, I do. Got a business deal with ’em, maybe I can talk to the Prez, work somethin’ out.”

“You got pull?”

“Fuck,” he said again, planting his face in his hands. “Fuck.”

“I’ll take that as a no?” I said, sorrowfully.

“No,” he agreed through gritted teeth, his eyes filled with turmoil as he looked up at me. “Let’s just say I didn’t want this deal I got goin’ with them, but they can be fuckin’ persuasive.”

I tipped my head and frowned questioningly at him, as if I didn’t understand just how persuasive an outlaw MC could be.

He sighed gustily and admitted. “They got me off the street walkin’ home one day, beat me so good I was coughin’ up blood and ended up in the hospital. Said it wouldn’t be the last time unless I cooperated with ’em.”

“What would they want with you?” I asked, digging carefully, an archeologist searching for confessions instead of ruins. “You poor man.”

“Arms smugglin’,” he admitted. “They got a few operations goin’, but I get they want to expand and I was their way to do it.”

Ding, ding, ding.

I grinned at him. “Thanks for that, Grant.”

He frowned at me, his face murky with confusion for one glorious moment before it cleared like clouds, revealing the full force of his realized fury.

I pointed at the camera on my necklace and grinned. “Say cheese!”

“You fuckin’ bitch!” He growled, launching himself across the desk at me.

I punched him hard in the esophagus just as Danner busted through the door, gun raised, yelling “RCMP, hands in the air.”

Grant tried to lunge for me again, still choking on my punch.

“Careful,” Danner warned, moving closer until he was at my side, his gun unwaveringly on target. “She’ll punch you in the face if you get too close.”

“Now that was fun,” I said, beaming at him as he moved around the desk and began to read Grant Yves his rights.

Only, I spoke too soon.

We hadn’t been thinking thoroughly. If the Berserkers MC had a stake in keepin’ this guy on their side, of course they’d send protection.

“Everythin’ okay in there, Yves?” a voice called up to us.

It was Runner, one of the prospects, a young kid who’d earned his name because he was flighty as fuck. Reaper had recruited him only because he was desperate for numbers.

It wasn’t ideal, having to make our way past a Berserker to get to safety, but it was good that if something had to happen to Runner, the MC wouldn’t question it. Runner was always disappearin’ for a spell.

Danner stared at me as I thought this through, his face transforming into stern, disciplinarian planes.

“Harleigh Rose,” he started to warn.

But I was off.

I ducked through the door and out onto the landing, seeing Runner peering up from the left side of the ladder.

I brought my gun up and shot. Not at him, I didn’t need any more blood on my hands, but close.

“Fuck!” he cried out, immediately running to duck behind a container close by.

“Cover me and get him to the van,” I told a wide-eyed Danner as he appeared behind me, a cuffed Grant behind him. “I’ll meet you there.”

“He’ll fucking see you,” Danner hissed as I tucked my gun in my waistband and started down the ladder. “He’ll see you and tell Reaper.”

“Not if I get him first,” I said as I disappeared over the edge and scrambled down.

A shot rang out, pinging so close to my hand on the ladder that I could feel the arm move.

Another shot, this one from Danner, and then the sound of him speaking into his mike, “Sterling, need back up at the office. Shots fired.”

I jumped to the ground and sprinted behind the container opposite Runner.