Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Fuck that.
“I know,” I say instead of all that because Ace is right. This is something the whole MC decides on. Period. “I wasn’t thinking. Just acted on instinct.”
He nods. Even though I might have gone about it the wrong way, it was the right call. For the MC and for Nova. “Good instincts. Terrible fucking execution.”
I flash a smile I don’t quite feel. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“You’ve got a meeting with your lawyer before Doherty has to shuffle you off to County. She’s the best defense attorney in SoCal.”
“Fucking County. I hope she’s good.” I’ve done time in County before, and I can handle it easily. But there are always those fuckers who want to test you, to prove they’re the big dawg, and showing those fuckers they ain’t always leads to more time in a fucking cell. “Think she’ll get me bail?”
“Maybe.” Even Ace doesn’t look sure when he lies straight to my face. “I don’t know, Tank. It is a murder charge.” One hand rakes through his hair, and he shakes his head again.
“Lawyer’s here,” Doherty mumbles under his breath.
The sheriff isn’t an asshole, but he’s a lawman and has no choice but to do his job. Last night, I forced his hand by confessing—like a fuckin’ idiot—right in front of him.
“I told her what we have so she can do her best for you.” His words come out slowly, almost guilty, as he unlocks the cell.
“Thanks, Sheriff.” I give his shoulder a squeeze, grateful he doesn’t have me locked up in cuffs.
“She’s a looker,” he whispers, then guides me through the maze of desks and computers. The bullpen buzzes with local law activities before he turns down a quiet hall and into a small windowless room. “Good luck.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Once inside the room, I spot a woman with thick dark hair, big hazel eyes, and enough curves to tempt any man with a heartbeat. Decked out in a suit with a blouse that barely covers her tits, she looks more like a stripper playing the role of a lawyer than an actual lawyer. She flashes a smile at Ace and then me. “Thomas Rutherford?”
I extend my hand absently. “Call me Tank. Or Tommy.”
“Right.” She flashes a smile while she pushes her tits out, and I get a bad feeling about this. A quick glance over my shoulder at Ace, who has a fucking smirk on his face, doesn’t do much to put my mind at ease. “Have a seat. We have a lot to go over.”
I take a seat and slide so my back is against the wall, my head directly below the camera in the room. “And you are?”
She smiles again. “Noelle Sabella, Esquire. You want my resume, or can we get down to business?”
I think about it for a minute. “How old are you?”
“Old enough to have a ninety percent success rate when my clients listen to me and do exactly what the fuck I say.”
Perfect. I flash a smile. “Good enough. What are we gonna do?”
Noelle lets out a sigh. “Apparently, there’s a video of you or someone beating the crap out of a Mr. Jake Lilly.”
I nod. “Yeah. Don’t know him.”
Surprise flashes in her eyes before that confident look returns. “The video has gone viral at this point, and it doesn’t look good. A figure in a leather vest, with Reckless Souls patches on the back, is beating the holy fuck out of the now-deceased man. It’s not clear who it is, which works in our favor.”
I frown. “Why do I hear a but coming?”
“But,” she sighs with a wide grin. “It’s not hard to make the jump to you. A biker is shit-kicking a man, and you’re a biker. Not just any biker, but a trained SEAL with a history of assault.”
“Fuck,” I growl.
“Exactly.” Her gaze slides to Ace and then back to me as she leans in closely. “So, are we looking for an acquittal or the best deal you can get?”
“Acquittal,” Ace and I answer at the same time.
“Oh, good. Because looking at you now, I got this. I know it.” The gleam in her eyes worries me. I don’t need some chick who gets off on the thrill of the game. I need my fucking freedom.
My brows shoot up at her confidence. “You really think you can keep me out of prison?”
“Hell yeah. But I doubt I can get you bail. Is that going to be a problem?”
“Yeah,” Ace answers in a gruff tone.
“No,” I answer at the same time. “I can do it.”
I don’t want to, but I can do it if it’s what’s best for the MC.
“All right. I have your retainer, and my investigators are looking into every piece of evidence and everyone involved. “You’ll get out one way or another,” she promises.
That should bring me some relief, but it doesn’t. Lawyers are always confident, and she’s no different, but what happens when it comes to court is the only fucking thing you can rely on.