Hatch (Dogs of Fire) Page 2

  “Fine!” I ground out. “Have him come down.”

  Clutch was not only the Burning Saints Sergeant at Arms, but he was Minus’s best friend and a complete charmer. Street smart and whip smart as well as handsome as the Devil himself. I could only imagine the notches that must adorn his bedpost.

  “First thing we’re gonna need is two drinks,” Clutch said with a smile before setting down two glasses and a bottle of bourbon in front of us.

  “I’m not going to argue,” I said, my voice trembling from the nerves.

  “Look, you’ve got nothing at all to worry about,” Clutch said in a reassuring tone as he poured. “You’ve just got to convince a police station full of cops that you’re a munitions expert with a specialty in explosives, right?”

  I grabbed the glass of bourbon the moment Clutch pulled the bottle away. “That’s what they tell me,” I said before emptying the glass’s contents.

  Clutch smiled. “That’s one way to drink forty-year old Scotch.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m just so nervous. I didn’t mean to offend you,” I said sheepishly.

  “No offense at all.” Clutch smiled. “I got the bottle from Hatch’s office.”

  I laughed but was still petrified I wouldn’t be able to pull this off.

  “Look, I don’t know the first thing about bombs or guns, other than what I’ve seen at the cinema in action movies,” I rasped.

  “Don’t worry about any of that. If you play your part correctly, no one there is gonna suspect a thing. As long as you act like you’re supposed to be there, those asshole cops won’t question a thing,” Clutch said.

  “But what if they do question me?”

  “If you get backed into a corner, box your way out with a barrage of technical jargon. Tell them shit like you’re doing a thorough and complete analysis of both the chemical and mechanical properties of the explosive device, along with a psychological profile of its manufacturer to assess whether or not the two possess likely linking factors.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  “Not really,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve been into this bourbon for a while now. Look, more than anything, you have to throw around ‘cop attitude.’ If you can do that, you’ll be fine.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “Just look at every other cop in the building with a look in your eye that says, ‘I’m a fellow badge and I’ve got your back in the line of fire, but given the opportunity I’d go over to your place while you’re at work and fuck your wife.’”

  I burst out in uncontrollable laughter and gave Clutch a squeeze. “Thank you for the drink and for the laugh. I needed them both.”

  “I’m puttin’ all my money on you. You’re gonna be the best expert cop that ever walked into that place.”

  “Maybe after one more drink.”

  Hatch

  Goddammit, what the fuck? I’d been stuck in the cell for a hell of a lot longer than twenty-four hours, and I was goin’ stir-crazy.

  “Prisoner, on your feet,” a deep voice ordered, and I stood slowly.

  What now?

  The window popped open and Ryan Lundy’s face appeared between the bars. “Hey,” he said.

  Ryan was the father of Poppy’s best friend, Grace, and the husband of Maisie’s late best friend, Ali. He and I’d had a relatively strained past, in that his wife had tried to kill Maisie, and had ultimately shot herself while speaking to Maisie on the phone. Ryan was forced to straddle the line of honoring his wife and protecting his children, which had caused a rift between him and Grace. His son, Merrick, and I had grown close over the years and he was a newly patched member of our club.

  I let out a sigh of relief, and gave him a slight grin, meeting him at the door. “Hey, brother. Do you have any idea what the fuck is goin’ on?”

  “Not completely. The Dogs are on it, though, and they’ve got Minus working on something.”

  “Why the fuck do they have Minus workin’ on it?”

  “Don’t know all the particulars yet. As soon as I know, I’ll fill you in.” He slid a pack of Cheetos in through the bars. “In the meantime, these’ll tide you over until breakfast.”

  “Did you happen to smuggle a beer or two in as well?”

  He chuckled. “That was beyond my ability. Sorry.”

  “What do they have on me?”

  “Something to do with bomb-making.”

  “Trumped up bullshit.”

  “Well, yeah,” Ryan agreed. “Booker’s working on hacking in to find out who did it.”

  I dragged my hands down my face. “Is Maisie okay?”

  “She’s threatening lives and worried sick about you.”

  “Fuck,” I breathed out. “Will you tell her I love her?”

  “I can’t, brother. Not yet.”

  “Jesus.”

  “You need anything?”

  “Other than my life back, you mean?”

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “No, man, I’m good.”

  “Okay, I’ll know more tomorrow. Hang in there.”

  I gave him a chin lift and he closed the peep door. Heading back to my cot, I dropped the cheesy snack on the end and then sat down and settled my face in my hands. Goddammit. I hadn’t spent a night away from Maisie since we’d made our thing permanent. That was more than ten years ago now, and I had no idea how I was gonna deal without her, even if I was only stuck here one night. Fuck me, tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

  * * *

  Maisie

  “Remember,” Ryan warned. “You’re an American munitions expert.”

  This cockamamie plan was actually happening. I’d been up all night studying and even though I was exhausted, adrenaline was coursing through my veins. “Bloody hell, Ryan, you didn’t tell me I had to put on an American accent as well,” I hissed. “How are we going to get one over on the FBI?”

  “You won’t,” Ryan assured me. “But Jaxon’s doing you a favor by setting this up. He’s got the FBI guys distracted for a while, so the only ones you need to convince are a couple of local detectives.”

  “Ryan,” I whispered. “They’re cops, not idiots.”

  “Maisie, I’ve got it sorted. Just follow my lead.”

  “If this doesn’t work, I will kill you,” I said. “But if it does, you have my life-long love and devotion.”

  He chuckled. “I’ve always had your life-long love and devotion.”

  “That might change if I don’t get my arms around my man today.”

  “You can’t touch him, Maisie, or the jig’ll be up.”

  I scowled up at him. “You better find a way for me to touch him, Ryan, or heads are gonna roll.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Ryan, you got your expert?”

  I glanced down the hall to see a uniformed officer barreling toward us.

  “Yeah, man,” Ryan said, and nodded toward me. “Linda Warren, this is Joe March.”

  I stuck my hand out and said in my best American accent, “Nice to meet ya.”

  I saw Ryan bite back a laugh and forced myself not to react.

  “I’m gonna show Linda the file, then we’re gonna meet with Mr. Wallace,” Ryan said.

  “You think you can figure out what he’s planning?” Joe asked.

  “If he’s plannin’ anything, yeah,” I said. God, I wanted to smash this man’s face in, but I had to play the game.

  “We got some solid evidence,” Joe said.

  “All cirrrr-cum-stantial at this point.”

  Ryan gave me a side-eye frown. I’m pretty sure I hung on my ‘r’ on circumstantial a bit too long, but, seriously, I was not American, and I didn’t play one on television, either. I had no clue what I was doing.

  “Linda’s a real ‘innocent until proven guilty’ type,” Ryan said.

  “It’s how your–our legal system works, right?” I challenged.

  Joe scoffed. “This guy’s a biker. Calls himself ‘Hatchet’ or some shit like that.”
<
br />   “Hatch,” Ryan corrected, stepping slightly in front of me.

  Seriously, I wanted to cut Joe into several pieces... maybe with a hatchet. This man was taking liberties.

  “Well, he’s not talking, so if you can get something out of him, more power to you.”

  “I’ll do my darn tootin’ best, partner,” I said.

  “You wanna bring him down in ten?” Ryan asked, shooting me another look.

  Joe nodded. “Sure.”

  “Dial it back a bit, John Wayne,” Ryan warned as he pulled me into an interrogation room and I paced the small space, hands on my hips, in an effort not to hit something.

  “Maisie,” he whispered.

  “What?”

  “Sit down.” He opened the manila folder on the table and pointed to something. “I need you to look at this.”

  I leaned over, and he whispered again, “Camera. Remember, look engaged.”

  I nodded and pointed at another part of the page. “You failed to mention cameras, Ryan. Can we get them turned off?”

  “I’m going to see what I can do. Just follow my lead.”

  “I’ll follow your lead, so long as it leads me to getting my arms around my man.”

  The door opened, and I glanced up to see Hatch being pushed into the room. His eyes hit mine and I desperately tried not to react. Outwardly, he was the model of a pissed off man being held without reason, but his eyes. Ohmigod, his eyes. They softened, and I saw every little bit of love he was trying to send me with one look.

  He looked healthy. Pissed off, but healthy.

  Joe led Hatch to the table and settled him facing the camera. Ryan walked Joe to the door and closed the door behind him, turning to face us. “You have about a minute to say something until they figure out I’ve unplugged the camera, make it quick.”

  I didn’t hesitate, wrapping my arms around Hatch and kissing him gently. “Hey.”

  “Hey, Sunshine. What are you doin’ here?”

  “I’m acting as the munitions expert.”

  He choked back a laugh. “What the fuck?”

  “I love you. I miss you. We are going to figure out how to get you out of here, okay?”

  “Okay, baby. I trust you.”

  “I need to plug the camera back in,” Ryan said.

  I leaned over and kissed Hatch one more time. He responded, which only made me want to strip him down and fuck him in the interrogation room, camera be damned.

  “Maisie,” Ryan warned, and I sat across from Hatch, opening the file. I managed to mouth, ‘I love you’ to him before Ryan joined us.

  “And that’s why we want to know what you know,” Ryan said.

  I had to give it to my friend. He acted like he’d been speaking the whole time. I saw now that it was for the benefit of whoever was watching... hopefully, they would assume the camera had malfunctioned.

  Hatch stared at him, but said nothing.

  “I see you’re not a talker,” I observed, and Hatch dropped his head. I could tell he was trying not to laugh. Even he thought my American accent was shite... or shit.

  Ryan flipped some pages in the file, then slid them to him. “What about this? Do you know anything?”

  I leaned forward and saw Ryan had notes written directly to Hatch, filling him in on what was happening with the club, and updates on what Booker had found. Shit I didn’t even know.

  Hatch didn’t react, just read the pages, then sat back. “Can’t help ya.”

  God, I wanted to jump him. His cool, confident swagger in spite of his circumstances was something I’d fallen in love with before everything else. Sexy as hell.

  His eyes hit mine and I knew he didn’t miss me licking my lips. He diverted his gaze back to Ryan and gave him a smug smile.

  “What about this?” Ryan pressed, flipping another page.

  Hatch glanced at me and my panties nearly melted off, then he focused on the pages.

  “When do I get my lawyer?” Hatch asked, leaning back again.

  “We still got time to detain you,” Ryan said.

  Hatch shrugged. “Can’t help you.”

  Ryan pushed out of his chair and paced. “I can’t believe you don’t have any... okay, guys, you’ve got another minute.”

  I glanced over my shoulder and saw he’d messed with the camera again, so I virtually jumped across the table to kiss Hatch. “I miss you so much, darling.”

  “I know, baby. You covered?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Every single club member has been by the house more than once since you were taken, so, yes, I’m covered. Are you eating?”

  “Yeah, Sunshine, all things considered, they’re treatin’ me like a human.”

  “How are you so calm?”

  “Baby, there’s nothin’ I can do. It’s out of my control. I trust my brothers, yeah? They’ll figure it out.”

  I blinked back tears.

  “Sunshine, don’t cry. It’s all temporary.”

  “It’s not if they lock you up permanently.”

  “Not gonna happen.” He leaned forward. “Now, kiss your man, then go home and try not to worry.”

  I kissed him, because I had to, or I might die, but not worrying just wasn’t going to happen. “I love you.”

  “I love you more, Sunshine. Remember that,” he whispered.

  A bang on the door had me jumping away from Hatch and sitting back at the table. Ryan opened the door. “I think we’re done here.”

  “Something’s wrong with the camera,” Joe said.

  Ryan frowned. “Oh? Let me look.” He acted like he was doing something behind the door. “Loose wire. All fixed, but we should get some duct tape on that.”

  “Did you get anything?”

  “Nothing useful, no,” Ryan said. “I’ll take him back to lock-up.”

  “I’ll walk Linda out,” Joe said.

  “I’m good,” I rushed to say, almost forgetting to use an American accent. “I know my way out.”

  Hatch dropped his head again and I reminded myself to verbally spank him when he got home... maybe I’d really spank him as well.

  Bloody hell, I was going to go through a few vibrators tonight.

  Hatch

  Fuckin’ Kitty!

  I hadn’t committed Ryan’s notes to memory because I wanted to remember everything about Maisie. Her scent, her lips, her body. But what I do remember from the clues Ryan had written down was Kitty’s name. And if he was anywhere near this, I was gonna fuckin’ kill him.

  Kitty had been a thorn in my ass since the day he patched in. Crow assigned him to my crew due to his enormous size and weapons expertise. He was a great soldier and totally loyal to the club, but he had a short fuse and an almost insatiable appetite for just about everything. Kitty was usually either on the prowl for pussy or looking for a back-alley fight, thus his name. Plus, Crow said he reminded him of that big blue fucker in Monsters, Inc.

  Once we’d figured out Kitty’s true talent was talking with robots and shit, we plugged him in and tried to keep him indoors and off the streets as much as possible. He’d behave for a while but would eventually “bust out” and tear up the streets of Portland while on an epic bender of sex and violence. It wasn’t his fault, really, it was simply in his nature. He was a giant and everything he did was larger than life.

  Unfortunately for Kitty, this included his ability to draw unwanted attention to the club, and Crow eventually had enough. Kitty was the first and only member of our club to be patched out and exiled.

  “Wallace!” a guard bellowed, despite the fact I was three feet from him.

  “Yeah,” I answered, and sat up.

  I’d been in this shithole for more than a week, and other than pushups, sit-ups and running in place, there wasn’t much else to do, so I was flat on my back, reading Catch 22 from the jail book cart, and wishing my woman was there to keep me warm.

  “Time to go.”

  “Where?”

  “You’re out.”

  I stood and made my
way to the door. “Out?”

  “Yeah. Charges have been dropped.”

  “No shit?”

  “No shit.” The door opened and the guard stepped back. “Grab your belongings.”

  “I’m good.”

  He nodded and led me out to the desk to sign paperwork and change out of my jumpsuit and back into the clothes I’d been brought in wearing. It didn’t really hit me until I saw Maisie pacing outside, and I finally let myself believe it was real.

  I had two more doors to go through, then she was in my arms and I was holding her close. “Hey, Sunshine.”

  She kissed the base of my throat, then stared up at me, her fingers in my beard. “You’re really out.”

  “Looks that way. You didn’t want to come inside?”

  “And have someone recognize me? No,” she admitted. “The last thing I needed was them putting you back in because I lied about who I was.”

  I chuckled. “Well, you’ve got a point.”

  “Let’s get you home and naked before they change their mind.”

  I grinned. “We got time?”

  “Boys won’t be home for two hours and Crow said you can come to the club whenever you feel up to it.”

  “Baby, I’m not goin’ to the club after just getting home.”

  She grimaced.

  “What?”

  “Well, they kind of have a thing planned,” she said.

  “Jesus. You okayed it?”

  She smoothed her palms over my cut. “They’re the reason you’re out, darling. I didn’t feel like I could say no.”

  “You can always say no, Sunshine.”

  “I won’t feel so bad about not saying no if you take me home and give me the shagging I deserve.”

  “Your wish is my command,” I whispered, kissing her quickly, then taking her home.

  Walking into the mudroom from the garage, I took a minute to take in the space, then took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Maisie was always melting scented wax and I’d admittedly taken the aromas she created for granted.

  “You okay?” she asked, her face covered with concern.

  I smiled down at her and nodded. “Just glad to be home.”

  She pulled her T-shirt off and crooked her finger. “You’re gonna be even happier in a second.”

  I rushed her, lifting her so she could wrap her legs around my waist, and carrying her to our bedroom, kissing her the whole way.