I sigh. I know I have to give them something, but maybe I can give them something without giving them anything.
“He called himself Ricky. I woke up in that house kidnapped by him and Cassie. Shadow and the rest of them rescued me and took me back to the club. Other than that, I don’t remember. I was pretty banged up; I had a slight concussion.” I push the photo back in his direction.
“Is this Cassie?” he asks, pulling another picture out of the folder and laying it on the table. It reveals a strung-out Cassie mugshot.
“Yeah.”
He nods his head.
He pulls out mugshots of Bull, Bobby, Locks, Shadow, Babs, and more.
“What can you tell me about the club,” he asks, still throwing photos on the table.
“Nothing,” I say, looking through the photos; Shadow's in particular.
“Based on your property patch, I would say you're close to Shadow.” He leans back in his chair with a smug look.
I look up at him and then back at the photo of Shadow. His blue eyes pierce mine, even through a photograph.
“Look, I know you want to protect him, but you need to protect yourself. In your situation you’re considered a threat to the club. I want to protect you, but you have to give me something.” He starts picking up the mug shots.
I shrug at his threat.
I know he’s right, but I would rather take my chances in the law of the club than any law this fat-ass and my mother have to offer.
Mr. Mustache growls in frustration.
He pulls out more photos and throws them on the table.
“You want to protect people that do things like this, Miss Lexington?” he asks, pushing the photos toward me.
I gasp at the gruesome pictures. There’s a man with ghostly eyes, his tongue cut out and a bullet hole in his head. Another one shows a woman with her tongue cut out and a bullet wound to the head. I swallow hard.
“Nothing?” he scoffs. “Well, you can sit here and think on it for a while; see if anything comes to mind.” He starts picking up his pictures and folder.
“I don’t know anything,” I shout, smacking the table with my hands. “They don’t tell women anything!” I scream as the door closes behind Mr. Mustache.
What feels like forever later, the door opens and my mother steps in.
I roll my eyes.
“Here’s a sandwich,” she says, plopping it down on the table.
“Thanks,” I say, sounding bitchier than I intend to.
“What are you doing, Danielle?” She sits in the chair across from me.
“If you’re going to preach your 'I’m looking out for you' speech, save it,” I spit back.
“When I met Stevin at the club, we realized we had something in common; Devil's Dust MC. I was suffering because of it and his case was at a dead-end because of it. We hit it off, he realized I was more of an asset than he thought, got me in training and I became an FBI agent. Together, we would bring down the club, but the only way in was through you, sadly.” She leans in, tearing at the empty cup.
“I tried everything to get the information I needed while I was there, but they wouldn’t give me anything.” She starts tapping the table. “When they tried to take us to the safe house, I had to get back to the club, but they were smarter than I thought.” She eyes me, as an awkward silence fills the room.
“Did you know about the drive-by?” I ask.
“No, my men weren’t a part of that.” She smiles, “but hey, it got the job done.”
I bite my lip as my body involuntarily growls at her; I want to kill her. What mother isn’t upset about a gang shooting at her child?
“You realize they will kill you now? Lover Boy will want nothing to do with you,” she says, leaning back tongue-in-cheek.
“Yes, because of you. I’m sure you’re happy, but you’re crazy if you think I’m going anywhere with you.” I sit up and glare at her. “I would rather live on the streets or take my chances with the club; hell, I would rather do time in jail, than to ever have anything more to do with you.” I stand up and lean over the table, my face inches from my mother's.
“Leaving you there was the best thing for the case; if only you would cooperate.” She turns her head and sneers at me.
“Let me put this so you can understand it. I hate you. You're dead to me. Take your case and shove it up your ass.” I smile the fakest smile I can muster and sit back down.
She stands up and walks to the door. “You're wrong, I’m not happy. We didn’t take down the club, but we’ll get them. You continue to refuse to help and you’ll go down with them.” She slams the door, sealing the severed ties.