Hunted (Dauntless MC Book 1) (3 page)

Talon made his way back to his cell, escorted by a guard as he shuffled along. Being locked up wouldn’t be so bad if he had his own cell but there was no such luck in the cards for him.

“You know the drill,” the guard informed him. He dutifully placed his wrists through the opening so the cuffs could be removed and then the guard bent down to unlock the chains at his ankles. The chains clinked against the metal bars as the guard pulled them through before he turned and walked away without another word.

Talon’s cellmate wasted no time trying to start conversation but he wasn’t in the fucking mood for his shit right now.

“What did she look like? Was she hot?”

Talon reacted and before he knew it, he was holding the man up by his throat with one hand, his feet dangling and unable to touch the cell floor.

“Motherfucker, don’t ever let her name, or anything concerning her, cross your lips again. If it does, I’ll push your skull through those bars so hard they’ll have to cut it out to release you.”

His voice was raspy as he tried to defend himself against Talon’s attack, “I don’t even know her name! I mean, ah, ah, I meant no disrespect.”

“You don’t know her name because I’m not fucking telling you her name. Forget about her!”

Talon tossed him to the side and watched him scramble away as he laid on his bunk to sort out what just happened to him in that room with the woman who wanted to save him. Why the fuck would she even care if he was being prosecuted for a crime he didn’t commit. Though his mind assured him that she was just some do-gooder who needed to reach out so she could sleep at night, he still couldn’t shake the fact that the chick had balls made of steel.

When she reacted, it hadn’t been in a smartass mouthy kind of way. No, that girl stood up to him when she felt he disrespected her. She earned something from him that he didn’t give away to just anyone. She earned his respect…

Grace wasn’t usually one who cared about what others thought of her. She had, however, become enlightened with Luke’s information on her client and it served to make her even more curious about his case.

In her line of work, she found the internet to be a wealth of information, and in her world, information was power. She was convinced that her client was wrongfully accused of selling drugs; the question was why. Though it’s entirely feasible that the officer in question just had a vendetta against her client because he’s a biker, it’s also possible that it goes deeper than that. Ironically enough, investigating the cop involved might just give her an inside look at Talon.

All Grace needed to get a line on the cop who was harassing her client was a name; what she got was much more than she bargained for. She was already discovering Luke’s assessment of the situation to be true. Before she could become too aggravated at him for being correct, she continued reading the computer screen. She hated the fact that Luke’s arrogant ass was correct but she pushed past that and became immersed in
the information she had at her disposal.

What that information revealed was that the officer she suspected of planting drugs on her client was no ordinary officer… he was an ICE agent. In a matter of moments, she was made aware that things had moved to a whole different level. Being a cop was one thing but being an ICE agent gave this guy much more power than a mere police officer had.

Derrick Snyder
looked more like a biker or a drug dealer than a member of law enforcement.
His long, dark brown hair flowed halfway down his back and it was pulled back in a ponytail. He wore a diamond stud in one of his earlobes and his black leather jacket only added to the badass image he projected. He wore black jeans tucked into black combat boots and everything about the man screamed hardcore.

The only giveaway that Derrick was an agent in the pic was the badge he wore around his neck. Other than that, he looked like the kind of guy people instinctively knew to stay away from but yet can’t help but be drawn to. He looked like trouble with a capital T and she was certain he had more than his fair share of women in his bed—female cops and women who lived a life of breaking the law. It wasn’t a secret that many agents and cops ended up falling prey to breaking the law during their time of being undercover. The question with this agent was… did he enjoy it? He wouldn’t be the first agent to learn he had an alter ego.

The only question now was whether or not this guy was on the tak
e. Grace felt a burst of adrenaline as the thought hit her that she could be putting herself in danger.
She was dealing with a man who had more power than just the average officer because his jurisdiction was nationwide. His power and authority went far beyond just the city of Louisville, Kentucky. She was going to have to think about what she was doing. Did she really want to stir up this hornet’s nest for a biker she didn’t even know?

All she cared about was finding out if this guy set her client up by planting drugs on him. If Derrick Snyder was on the take, then she had every intention of taking him down. Grace didn’t have any respect for people who use their power and authority to make money. When their job was supposed to be watching out for the needs of the community, then that was what they should be doing. She would find out in the very near future that things weren’t always black and white; sometimes they were grey.

Talon barely slept the night before. Little Miss Prim and Proper’s promise of freedom weighed too heavily on his mind. She should be very fucking careful about making promises to a man like him. After all, it wasn’t just him she’d be dealing with if she didn’t follow through. It would be the boys in his club and things could get real rowdy, real fucking quick, with them.

Footsteps from the hard soled shoes of a guard making his way towards his cell pulled him from his thoughts. He hated being locked up. He needed the wind blowing through his hair to be at his best. Being surrounded by concrete walls was torture for any biker. They were born wild and free and they died wild and free. He knew enough about court proceedings to not get his hopes up about being released today. His freedom could be contingent upon something as trivial as whether or not the judge’s wife let him fuck her with his little pencil dick last night.

“You know the drill, prisoner.” Talon placed his hands through the metal opening and willed his heart to quit beating so quickly in anticipation of not only getting released, but seeing that hot, little, lawyer lady again. The sound of metal clanking against the concrete flooring, along with the well-wishers shouting through the bars of their cages, wasn’t making him feel any better. It was just grating on his nerves. The last thing he wanted to have to do was walk back in here if he wasn’t released. The questions from fellow prisoners would only lead to a fight on a day like today. If little Miss Do-gooder was going to have any chance of being successful getting him out of these trumped up charges, he was going to have to be on his best behavior. That, in and of itself, could be a challenge for a guy like him.

He was ushered through a side door and his eyes immediately honed in on her like a target. Damn, she looked good. Today, she was dressed in a black suit with a white button up shirt beneath it. Her blonde, shoulder length hair was down today but held back with a black, plastic headband. She was the epitome of professionalism with an air of innocence—the kind of innocence he wanted to violate.

It took all of Grace’s effort for her not to look over at her client as he entered the side door with a jail guard. The last thing she needed was for this judge to catch her ogling a prisoner. His chains noisily clanked against the table as he sat down next to her. The only way she acknowledged him was by leaning down towards his ear to mandate, “Don’t speak unless the judge expressly addresses you.” She was concerned about this client because of his dominant personality. He wasn’t the type to back down and it had her concerned.

“Rooting for the underdog again? You could be getting yourself in deeper than you bargained for. Are you certain you want to do this?” the judge questioned her.

She shook off the feeling that the judge’s question carried a veiled threat. “You know me too well, Sir,” she answered.

“Well, since you’re so convinced he’s innocent, I’m going to release him into your custody.” Her joy at the judge’s decision was momentary as he continued to speak after he leaned over his high perch and looked down on her as if she was his prey. “If he screws up… and I mean if he so much as jaywalks on your watch, I’m going to hold you accountable.” He crooked his finger at her as he peered down over his glasses and she suddenly felt like she was back in school at the principal’s office. She made her way up to the judge’s bench and he covered the microphone before he spoke. “I don’t like the fact that you’re accusing a cop of being dirty. I also don’t like the thought of an agent with that much power running around the streets using the law to hide behind and bribing people in the community no matter how unproductive they may be. Tread lightly, young lady, there’s a lot at stake here.”

“Absolutely, Sir, you have my word.” She resisted the urge to skip out of the courtroom; her challenge was just beginning. She would find out very soon that the judge’s warning would ring true; Grace was getting much more than she bargained for. She was dealing with two organizations who prided themselves on being macho—cops and bikers—and it didn’t get much more testosterone fueled than that.