Hunter threw a look past the prez to Patriot. What he saw on the young guy’s face caused an eel of dread to slither through his gut.
“I was coming to find you, man. The sheriff…” He pivoted, and Patriot spotted the sheriff standing in the silent clubhouse behind him, along with his deputy. Hunter looked at Patriot. “They want you to come quietly.”
“Of course they do. They know we can take the motherfuckers.” He might sound like an asshole, but being arrested for a crime he didn’t commit wasn’t going down easy. He might want to fight his way out of it and escape, but he knew it wasn’t the right thing to do.
Dixon turned to him. “We’ll hire you the best fucking lawyer in Tennessee.”
He clenched his jaw. “I’m countin’ on it.” He pushed past Hunter and into the big open room where the music had stopped. All the guys stood staring at him in various poses of menace, and the honeys clustered in a corner, looking afraid.
“Logan Stone. We have a warrant for your arrest.” The sheriff’s official-sounding tone sent his stomach dropping even further.
This was really happening.
Biting off his fury, he leveled his glare on the sheriff. The man had been a friend to the Dark Falcons during the time they were trying to drive the Mayhem gang from the town. And countless other times they’d worked together on various charity rides benefitting Mersey. Now this.
“I guess loyalty and friendship only go so far,” he said roughly.
He walked up to the sheriff and looked the man in the eyes. “You gonna slap the cuffs on me or can I walk outta my club in front of my brothers with dignity?”
Sheriff Gardener nodded. “Don’t give us any trouble, and we won’t give you any in return.”
He grunted. “Oh I intend to raise hell when I get to the jail. I didn’t commit this crime, and I plan to free myself.”
“You have the right to do just that, son. C’mon then.” The sheriff led the way out of the clubhouse.
Patriot followed. Behind him, not a murmur sounded among his brothers…his family.
Aarica’s nervous energy had her lending a hand to Fiona despite the fact she wasn’t on the clock. The last two hours she sat wringing her hands while she waited for a sign of Patriot—or any Dark Falcon—but not one man wearing the patch had entered the Painted Pig all evening.
She cleared some glasses off a table and carried them behind the bar. Fiona looked up, her brows drawn in worry too. Dixon was supposed to come move some things in the kitchen to make room for a new fryer, since business boomed and their equipment couldn’t keep up with the demand for all the wings, fries and onion rings.
Fiona tried for a smile, but it appeared halfhearted. “Thanks, Aarica. You don’t need to work when you’re not getting paid.”
She twisted her fingers. “Won’t you tell me where to find Patriot?”
She bit down on her lip as if contemplating the question Aarica had already asked twice before. “I can’t. It’s sort of club code—we keep our business private.”
“And I’m not in the club,” she added flatly.
“Aarica, I’m sorry. I don’t know the state of Patriot’s mind, and I can’t say if he wants to be found right now. Especially right now.”
The door burst open. She whirled to stare at Dixon striding straight toward them. Before he reached the bar, she could see something bad had happened. Anger rolled off the big man in waves.
She and Fiona stepped up at the same time. “What happened?” Fiona demanded.
He didn’t grace Aarica with so much as a look when he answered, “Trouble. Shit went down.”
Her heart slammed hard and fast, a piston with too much power behind it. “Where’s Patriot?” Damn her voice for wavering instead of coming out strong as she intended.
Dixon swung his gaze her way. “In jail.”
Her whole body felt as if someone had yanked the muscle from it, leaving her unable to support herself. “Oh no…” she barely whispered.
“What the hell happened?” Fiona leaned into the bar toward her man.
“Sheriff Gardener came for him. Guess they have enough evidence to charge him. We’re goin’ over now, though we probably can’t bail him out until morning after he goes before the judge.”
“Oh my God,” Fiona said weakly.
Aarica clutched the edge of the bar. Her fingers tightened. In one swift move, she launched up and over the top, landing on the other side next to Dixon. “Take me with you!”
He gaped at her, and Fiona’s jaw dropped.
“I…I’m sorry, Fiona. I shouldn’t disrespect your property that way, but I couldn’t move around fast enough to make my point.”
The woman shook her head. “You better take her.”
She searched the woman’s face for the source of amusement she heard ringing in her voice but saw no indication as to why.
Dixon gave a stern nod. “I’ll be home when I can. Be careful, okay?” He reached out and pulled Fiona onto tiptoe, leaning over the bar to kiss her.
Aarica hurried to the door while they said their goodbyes. With her car keys already in hand, she started toward her parked vehicle. Dixon came out and waved to her. “Follow me.”
She nodded and silently climbed behind the wheel. As she performed the automatic actions of driving, her mind couldn’t be further from the task.
Patriot arrested.
That must mean they had hard evidence against the man. She knew injustices happened every day, and why it had to happen to Patriot, she had no idea. The man kept his head down, worked hard for everything he had.
Her insides sank lower when they pulled into the Mersey jail. She didn’t want to think about those small holding cells and how a big man such as Patriot would deal with that.
Dixon gave her a nod as she fell into step next to him. “Keep quiet.”
She nodded and trailed along. When they entered the front door, a wall of black leather greeted them. What seemed to be half the Dark Falcons stood here waiting for their president to give orders on how to make this situation better for their friend.
Aarica pressed herself into the group and spotted that guy again—the one who wanted to be a prospect.
Dixon stepped up to the lady at the desk. “What can you tell me about the charges?”
“I can only tell you that your friend is being processed right now. In the morning, he’ll speak with his lawyer and be brought in front of the judge for arraignment. At that point, you can bail out Mr. Stone and he will be required to show up in court on the scheduled date.”
“I know all that.” Dixon slashed a hand through the air. “I’m asking about the charges. What evidence do you have to make the arrest?”
The woman eyed him as if trying to decide to tell him. Dixon wasn’t to be ignored.
“Some of the parts from the stolen motorcycle was found on Mr. Stone’s motorcycle.”
Aarica sucked in a gasp that had Dixon’s head swinging her direction. Then he pierced the receptionist in his glare. She shrank under the dark weight of it.
“That is not possible,” he said evenly through clenched teeth.
Around Aarica, the men erupted with bellows of injustice and foul-play. Someone jostled her, and she had to grip the edge of the desk to keep from being knocked over. She could see now how situations such as this got quickly out of hand, and that couldn’t happen.