Dream Keeper (Dream Team 4)

To Auggie’s knowledge, Ian had dick to do with this case.

So what the fuck was Pepper’s employer doing there?

Aug felt Hawk’s gaze and gave his boss his own, and neither of them were happy.

This meant Hawk didn’t know Ian was going to be here either.

The meeting place was a small box building made of cinderblock painted white. In fact, everything was white. White doors. White trim.

But it wasn’t clean, and it wasn’t kept up to the point it appeared mostly derelict.

The small parking lot all around was made up of cracked asphalt and broken parking blocks that had also, at some time not close to recent, been painted white.

They did a wide loop around the perimeter before heading to one of the two doors to the building, and as they did their loop, neither were thrilled that all the windows were blacked out.

Hawk pounded twice on the door with the side of his fist and Aug had his hand on his sidearm while he did it.

There was no answer.

Hawk opened the door.

They moved in swiftly and shut the door behind them just as swiftly.

Because Ian was there.

As was Smithie.

As were Rush, Shy and Dutch, all from the Chaos MC.

And Beck, Core and Eightball of the Resurrection MC.

Last, Malik, Elvira’s husband, one of the cops on their crew.

Auggie could tell by the line of Hawk’s body that this was a bigger meet than he expected, not just with men present, but the importance of what that many meant.

He could also tell that Hawk wasn’t a fan of showing somewhere and not having that intel.

“You know what this shit’s about?” Smithie, the least patient of any of them, asked.

“Not yet,” Hawk answered.

Another double pound on the door and Mo and Mag came in.

Both men scanned the players then looked right to Hawk and their faces settled into how the rest of them looked.

Unhappy.

Fortunately, they only had to wait a few minutes before there was another pounding on the door.

Three knocks this time.

And in came Lee Nightingale, and his right-hand man, Luke Stark.

With them were Eddie Chavez and Hank Nightingale, both cops.

And sandwiched between these duos was a tall, slender Black woman with a great ass, close-cropped hair, insanely beautiful bone structure, big eyes and a presence that, if literally physical, would have pushed them all back on a foot.

At her entry into their scenario, two things Auggie did not like happened.

One, Beck grunted, “Nope.”

This meant she was bad news.

All of them, Hawk and his men, Nightingale and his crew, Chaos and their brothers, but especially the cops, would like to lay claim to the fact that they knew the streets the best.

But the truth of it was, Resurrection did.

You played the game their way, that was what happened.

They knew the good.

They knew the bad.

But they rubbed elbows most with the ugly.

The second thing that Aug didn’t like was the vibe that shot between the woman and Dorian.

Christ, if anyone got between their locked gazes, they’d be incinerated instantly.

Which meant Smithie growled, “Fuck.”

“Are you fuckin’ shittin’ us with this bitch?” Eightball demanded of Lee, Luke, Hank and Eddie as a whole.

“It’s time you all met Dynamite,” Lee stated.

At that, the room went static.

The word “dynamite” was the only lead in the dirty-cops case Tony Crowley left them before he died.

“Not so well known as Lieutenant Stephanie Fortune, deep cover, Denver Police,” Eddie finished.

“The fuck?” Beck whispered.

Well…

Shit.

Chapter Eleven

Bee’s Knees

Pepper

The good thing about the one, two, three, four punch of a life that included making the decision early that you were going to leave the nest and never look back, plus the man you thought was the love of your life betrayed you to the point you lost all dignity which meant you had to build it back from scratch, plus you spent years stripping for a living, and finally, you meditated…was you owned yourself.

I owned myself.

And what I was owning right then was not hiding that I was hanging at my desk in the office for the sole purpose of seeing Auggie drive up, get out of his SUV and walk up my path.

Bonus, I was close to the door so I could rush to it and throw it open to provide myself the opportunity to finish watching him walk to my house with no obstructions.

All of this, I did.

Did this say I was excited to see him?

Yes.

Was I excited to see him?

Hell yes.

As such, I saw no reason to hide it, and not only because I (inadvertently, it was important to note) led him a merry chase up to this point and I didn’t feel he needed any more of that.

I was just really excited to see him.

“Hey!” I exclaimed when he was halfway up the front steps.

“Hey,” he responded, his lips curled up.

Still, he had that look on his face that he’d had the night before when I’d opened the door.