Making Choices (Black Shamrocks MC Book 2) (35 page)

JJ

Present Day

“G
et down!”

“Fuck, where’s the fire?”

“It’s the fucking cops.”

Smoke billows through the open doorway of Lucas’s room as shouting and screaming erupts. I scramble to my feet, bringing the covers with me to hide my nakedness. Lucas shoves me to the floor behind him when the barrel of a rifle pokes through door.

“Police. On the floor. Get down. Get down.”

Three officers storm into the room as I slide onto my stomach on the floor next to Lucas, lying flat on the floor with my hands above my head. One of the officers kicks me in the hip even as I do as I’m told, making me cry out.

Lucas lunges for the handgun on his bedside table, taking the butt of a gun to the face in his effort to protect me. He hits the ground, blood running from his mouth.

“Get your fucking hands off her. She’s pregnant. You hurt her. I’ll fucking kill you,” he yells as the officer who kicked me pulls me to my feet by my hair. I hold my hands in the air, even as my need for modesty consumes me. I have no way to cover my nakedness, the bedding lost in the chaos.

“A pregnant biker slut. Well, well. This should be fun,” the police officer sneers as he jams a hand between my legs, groping me with savage intent. Lucas shakes off the two officers holding him and head butts him, knocking him to the ground. Dropping his weapon when he hits the floor, the officer scrambles behind the two remaining police, cowering as he hides from Lucas.

What a coward. My opinion of the police has been lowered dramatically.

The two remaining officers raise their guns, pointing them at us.

Lucas doesn’t care. Turning his back on them, he picks up his T-shirt and slides it over my head. When he’s satisfied I’m covered, he pulls on his jeans and crosses his arms over his chest.

“What can we do for you, pigs? I hope you have a warrant for this breakfast visit?”

My heart is racing, trying to beat its way out of my chest. I’m scared they’re going to shoot him if he antagonizes them too much.

Someone shouts from the hallway. “We’ve got him. Bring them all to the bar area.”

“Move.” The officer closest to us points his weapon toward the door. “You heard him. In the bar.”

Lucas grips my shaking hand in his, and leads me toward the hallway. We’re forced to stop when Mad Dog is dragged down the hallway in front of us by three more officers, fighting as though his life depends upon it. Maddi follows behind him, an officer holding each arm as she screams and battles with them.

I screw my eyes shut when one of the police in front of them jams the butt of his rifle into Mad Dog’s stomach. He’s momentarily winded, sagging as they drag him.

“You can’t arrest him. He didn’t do it. I did it. It was me. I killed him.”

“Shut the fuck up, Lainey,” Mad Dog yells at her, lifting his head with concentrated effort. His eyes are feral, black with rage. If he could get free, I’m positive he would kill every man standing between him and Maddi. “Don’t listen to her.”

“Fuck me dead. Fucking Beast,” Lucas mutters behind me. “I’m gonna kill him.”

I don’t follow.
What would Beast have to do with this?

Lucas bumps into my back when he’s struck by the officer standing behind him.

“Move. Now.”

We follow everyone to the bar. With the Club on lockdown, there are a lot of people packed into the one room. Tendrils of smoke still float around the room. The Police must have used smoke bombs to clear the area before they raided. They all have weird-looking black masks hanging around their necks.

“Someone needs to produce a warrant, otherwise my next move is a call to our solicitor for police brutality and unlawful entry,” Butch announces to the room.

The only intruder not wearing protective gear steps forward from his position just inside the entry. Pulling a document out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket, he unfolds it.

Making a show of shaking it out, he stares with pure hatred at Mad Dog and Maddi.

“Thomas Fucking Taylor in the flesh.” Butch shakes his head. “Finally decided to step out of your fancy office, and harass us in person?”

Ignoring Butch, he speaks directly to Mad Dog, “This is a warrant to enter these premises to arrest one Mikhail Victor Kennedy.”

Signaling the officers already holding Mad Dog to secure him further, he steps forward and leans right into Mad Dog’s face. “You are under arrest for the murder of Brendan Jonathan Taylor. You have the right to an attorney. One shall be provided for you if you cannot afford one. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can, and will, be held against you in a court of law.”

“Fuck this, you piece of shit. You won’t get away with this.” Mad Dog’s father pushes to his feet, swaying until Conan grabs his arm to steady him. He tries to say more, but he’s wracked with horrible-sounding coughs that shake his entire frail body.

“Dad,” Mad Dog calls out. “Sit down. I’ll be all right.”

He struggles to regain his breath even as he retakes his seat, gasping for air for a long moment, until he finally gets his breath back. Watching Mad Dog, my heart breaks when he can’t get to his father, no matter how much he struggles.

“You’ve got it wrong. I did it,” Maddi speaks up. “I killed him.”

“I told you to keep your mouth shut,” Mad Dog bites at her. He’s furious at her for trying to defend him. “Just stay put and let me deal with it.
Please, Mo Ghrá
.”

Her mouth opens and shuts, as she fights with herself to do what he wants. Pieces of the puzzle are falling into place as I remember the newspaper articles that I read about the Club months ago. Mad Dog’s being accused of the murder of Maddi’s ex. As far as I’m aware, he’s only missing at this stage, although his father, the Minister for Police, has been very vocal in pointing the finger at the Black Shamrocks since he disappeared.

Shit. This is bad.

Lucas’s cryptic comments from last night flit through my mind, and I realize what’s going on.

Mad Dog is taking the blame for Maddi.

Maddi killed her ex. The one she told me about when we were abducted.

The one who raped and abused her, leaving her with the scars that cover her body.

I’m dragged from my dark thoughts when the man in the suit, who I now know is Brendan Taylor’s father, walks over to Maddi and backhands her across the face. Mad Dog growls, trying to launch himself at the vile man. Every man in the bar, including Lucas, moves to support him, but the police lift their rifles and point them at Maddi.

“Make one move, and we’ll shoot her.”

Maddi holds her cheek, rage glittering in her eyes as she glares at the man who hit her, when he threatens her life so Mad Dog will settle down. “You’re just like
him.
Can’t handle a fair fight like a proper man.”

Raising his hand to hit her again, he wavers when she tilts her head to the side, daring him to do it.

“You’re not worth it,” he sneers, lowering his arm. “I know it was you, but I can’t pursue you. It’ll look like a vendetta if I go after the poor little girl my son went to jail over. This way, you’ll pay by watching your lover rot behind bars while my son rots in the ground. Poetic justice, at its best.”

“You won’t get away with it,” she yells when he turns his back on her, gesturing to the officers holding Mad Dog to take him outside.

“I already have.”

***

“T
here’s nothing any of us can do until he’s processed in a few hours. You have to go to the ultrasound.”

Maddi stands with her hands on her hips, glaring at Lucas and me as we sit on his bed discussing postponing the ultrasound until next week so we can wait at the police station for news about Mad Dog. I don’t mind waiting. The shine has been taken off of it for me, and I have my doubts whether Lucas is in the right mental state to handle it yet.

His shattered expression during last night’s breakdown is fresh in my mind—a week or so might give him the time he needs to get himself back together. Watching his best friend get dragged off by the police for a crime he didn’t commit, hasn’t helped him either. For the first time since I’ve known him Lucas looks fragile, his usual indomitable presence reduced to a shell of itself.

“We need some good news around here.” Her bottom lip quivers as she continues presenting her brave face. “Meet us at the cop station once you’re done. Bring pictures.”

Apart from her initial breakdown on the floor of the bar after Mad Dog was pushed into the police wagon and driven away, she’s been a wild tornado of energy. She’s organized a hot-shot lawyer to meet him at the station, challenged the validity of the warrant, and questioned every man in the Club with furious intent to find out what they know about the situation.

Her displeasure has grown with each roadblock she’s met in the form of a suddenly mute Shamrock. I’m scared she’s about to snap and do something stupid.

Like turn herself in for the murder.

“We need a new fucking door, A. S. A. fucking P.,” Lucas announces when she stalks off down the hallway without waiting for our agreement. “Not my brightest move.”

Laughing at him, I snuggle into his chest. There’s a sense of peacefulness between us this morning that wasn’t there before. Our hearts laid bare, we feel rock solid, as if the chaos swirling around us, can’t touch our pairing.

“She’s right. We should go.” Lucas breaks the easy silence of the room. “Get dressed.”

Slinging his cut over his shoulder, he stares at me for a minute. A dozen emotions flit across his face in that instance. “I’ll be right back, Doll. Just gotta handle something.”

Walking into the noisy bar ten minutes later, I’m stopped in my tracks when I find Maddi and Lucas going at it in a full-blown argument. He’s said something to set her off while I was in the bathroom working out how to tie a scarf around my neck to hide the additional redness left by Lucas’s attack last night.

“How dare you keep this from me?” When she slaps her hands against his chest, he’s forced to take a step back, but she closes the distance to get in his face again. “My brother. My father. My gun. This is on me. Not him.”

“He told us not to tell you. For fuck’s sake, you think I didn’t argue with him? Of course I fucking did. We all did.” Lucas looks around the room for support. “You know what he’s like with you. He thought we’d have time to get rid of him.”

“Well, he was wrong, and now he’s going to pay for it. I’m going to lose him.”

“Maddi, calm down. We can fix it. Just need some time.” Smoke steps forward, pushing his way between Lucas and Maddi. Wrapping an arm around her, he drops his voice low, placating her like she’s pitching a fit over nothing. I feel bad for her, having gleamed from the argument that Lucas has brought her up to speed with what the men I patched up last night told them during their torture. “We know where he is. There are just too many eyes for us to do anything, right now. Kid’s working on it.”

Jerking his head in the direction of the tall, skinny, redheaded boy who’s always glued to his laptop, Smoke motions him to step forward. “Tell her, Kid.”

“Smoke’s right. We know where he’s buried. I’m working on getting a group of us out of here undetected by the surveillance the pigs have on us. Two, three days, tops. Once Mad Dog’s processed, I can find out what they used to justify the warrant. Then we can ...”

He doesn’t finish his sentence because Maddi angrily shrugs off Smokes arm and walks away from them. She grabs her helmet and jacket from the racks inside the main door as she heads for the exit. Pulling the jacket over her shoulders, she zips it before declaring her intentions for all to hear.

“I’m riding to the cop station to try and talk some sense into my stupid Old Man. Smoke, if you’re my babysitter, move your ass.”

Taking another two steps before halting with the door propped open with one long arm, Maddi turns back to the crowd. Resolve in her eyes, they flash with challenge as she dares anyone to argue with what she has to say next.

“You have three days to fix it. After that, I’m turning myself in, and none of you will stop me. That includes Mik.”

Leaving shortly after Maddi and Smoke, the journey to the hospital is quick. I’m glad, even though I usually enjoy zipping in and out of the traffic with my arms wrapped around Lucas’s waist. I’m too tense and upset to enjoy the ride, my mind racing in twenty different directions as I think about Maddi. It doesn’t seem fair to me that she has to cope with this after everything she went through at the hands of the man she killed. I don’t know the full story, but surely it’s a simple case of self-defense?

Lucas pats my hands where they rest around his waist as he parks his bike near the front doors of the clinic. Passing him my helmet, I run my fingers through my hair to untangle it.

Smoothing down my clothes, I take in our reflection in one of the big glass windows on either side of the sliding doors as we stand next to each other—the big, handsome biker with long hair and a beard standing dressed in leather and dirty denim, next to the classically dressed short, skinny redhead.

For the first time, I don’t turn away, thrown by the distinct contradiction in our appearances. Instead, I choose to concentrate on the way our bodies unconsciously lean toward each other as if our center of gravity is the other person.

Searching for my hand, Lucas holds it tight. “Let’s do this.”

One of the perks of working at the hospital is not having to wait. We’re led straight into one of the cubicles once I give my name to the receptionist.

My obstetrician friend, who was kind enough to squeeze me in between appointments when I asked yesterday, breezes into the room as I’m hopping up onto the bed. Her double take when she sees Lucas sitting on the spare chair next to me is comical—her mouth dropping open before she shuts it.

A bright red flush making its way up her neck to her face, she holds out her hand. “I’m Abby. I’ll be performing the ultrasound today. Pleasure to meet you.”

When Lucas takes her hand to shake it, she looks around him and mouths, “oh my God” at me. Laughing at her reaction, I shrug with innocence when Lucas lifts an eyebrow at me, wanting to know what I’m laughing at.