Prologue
Conrad Erikson
* * *
It’s never good when the chief of police waltzes into your business, looks around, and then hefts up the front of his pants like he owns the place. The overweight asshole also has an enormous ego which is why I intercept him before my brother, Cannon, spots him on the floor of the Savage Kings Harley Davidson dealership. I can already hear the first words out of my twin’s mouth: “I’ve got your Fat Boy Harley right here, you porky fuck.”
Shaking my head at Cannon’s inability to hold his tongue, I walk up to the police chief and dig deep to find my best customer service voice. I’ve got to at least try and be nice to this asshole. The Kings have always had some pushback from Chief Bailey. He wishes he could find something, anything, to take down our MC but knows that’ll never happen. He didn’t exactly build any bridges of friendship when Roman, our president, went to him asking for help finding Tessa when she was kidnapped. In fact, Roman said the chief was more concerned about the damage to the city’s image than the four women who had gone missing. The other three were known around town for selling their bodies, which meant the police couldn’t care less about them.
“Can I help you with something, Chief?” I ask with a fake smile on my face.
His eyes narrow at me, and I know exactly what he’s going to say before he opens his big mouth. I’ve always been good at reading people, especially shallow pieces of shit. “Which one are you?”
Only our closest friends and family can tell me and Cannon apart. While we may look identical at the exact same height and weight, with the same light blond hair and blue eyes, our personalities couldn’t be further apart. Cannon’s loud and outgoing with his constant hilarious commentary that helps him lure hordes of women to his bed. I, however, know when to keep my mouth shut and how to keep my dick in my pants.
“I’m Conrad,” I answer, even though it probably doesn’t matter to the chief.
“Right. Conrad. Just the man I wanted to talk to,” he says, his gray eyes still sizing up my muscular six-foot-four frame. I’m at least half a foot taller than the chief, but he probably outweighs me by a solid, or not-so-solid, fifty pounds. He must feel threatened because he rests his fingers over the butt of the gun in his hip holster, like that will make me nervous. Not much frightens me, especially not an old, washed-up cop who sits behind a desk all day because he can’t meet any of the physical requirements of the job. It would probably take him two minutes to get that damned gun out of its holster, the way his love handles are bulging over it.
“What can I do for you?” I ask, hoping we can get to the reason why he’s here. If I’m lucky I can get rid of him before Cannon comes and, well, lives up to his name by blowing shit all to hell with his offensive rhetoric.
“I need a favor from you,” Chief Bailey starts.
“A favor from me?” I repeat in confusion.
“Well, I need a favor from the MC, but you’re going to be the person to make it happen.”
“I am, huh?” Fuck, I hate his cocky tone of voice. It’s as if he thinks he’s god and everyone is supposed to do his bidding.
“You are,” he reiterates, making my teeth grind together.
“So let’s hear it.”
Jutting out his chin, he says, “I want however many of your men you can spare to fly out to California and retrieve my daughter for me.”
“Sorry, Chief, but the Savage Kings aren’t golden retrievers or those big snow dogs, Saint Bernards. We don’t fetch people.” The smart-ass words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, but I don’t regret them. Who the hell does he think he is, coming into our business and demanding the Kings do shit for him? The fat old bastard has apparently lost his goddamn mind.
“That wasn’t a request, it’s an order!” Chief Bailey says as his round face turns a bright shade of red. “I’m planning a run for mayor next year, and no one can hurt my campaign, especially my own reckless daughter!”
I find it hilarious that the man can run an entire police department but not keep his kid in line. Still, that’s not my problem or the MC’s. “Again, the Savage Kings are not on your payroll or anyone else’s. We can’t help you.”
Grumbling under his breath, he shoves his hands into his pockets, fumbling around until he finally finds what he’s looking for – his cell phone. His sausage fingers jab at the device, and then he spins it around to show me the screen.
All I can do is stare at the thankfully silent video for several long seconds as my lungs squeeze painfully in my chest. I quickly glance over my shoulder nervously to make sure no customers or staff, especially Cannon, are seeing the violent images.
“There’s plenty more where that came from,” the chief says cheerfully with a smirk as he slides the phone into his pants pocket. “I’ve got hours of you and your…extracurricular activities.”
When I can take a deep breath again, I quietly grit out, “How the fuck did you get that?”
“Contrary to what you all may believe, this is my town, not Roman McNamara’s or the Savage Kings MC. I decide what businesses are allowed to operate within the city limits. Sam Brown and I have an agreement. He provides me with some of the footage from his…establishment, and in exchange, I don’t shut him down.”
I stab my fingers through the front of my hair as I try and figure out what the hell I’m going to do.
“What do you think your brother and the MC will say when they watch these videos?” the son of a bitch asks.
“It was all consensual!”
“Maybe so. But will they actually believe you after they see it for themselves, especially after how bent out of shape Roman got about what happened to that girl? What was her name? Teresa?”
“Tessa,” I whisper.
“Tessa. Right!” he says with a snap of his fingers.
“I haven’t been back there in months, since way before the night she was taken,” I assure him. “I’m never going back again!”
“Whatever you say,” Chief Bailey replies. “I don’t give a shit what you do in your free time. It’s your life. As a father, though, well, I would hate it, but I’ll have to send a copy to your parents too.”
All the blood drains from my face so fast that I get dizzy and have to grab on to one of the Harleys on display to keep from hitting the floor. Cannon and I couldn’t have gone into a lab and created a better mother and father than the ones we were given. Right now, they have enough on their plate with my dad having to quit his job to take care of my mom as her multiple sclerosis worsens. They don’t need any extra stress on them, especially something like this that would break their hearts.
“Don’t…” I mutter.
“You don’t want me to send the video to anyone?” he asks snidely.
“No.”
“So does that mean you’re going to enlist the MC to help me with my favor?”
“Fine. We’ll do it!”
“That’s what I thought,” he remarks. “Give me your number so I can text you the details about my daughter.”