Loving The Biker (MC Biker Romance) Read Online Free Page A

the words plenty of times out of Uncle Sal’s lips, back when I was a young punk. Apparently, I still need a kick in the ass when it came to getting my shit together.
    Sighing, I grabbed a wrench.
    There was no use dwelling on the past. All I could do was try and make up for it. I only hoped that club would someday forgive and accept me like they would anyone else.

Three
     
    Terin
     
     
    “It’s been five weeks now since Slammer’s homicide,” said Daniel Walters, the head of our unit. It was early Monday morning and he looked like he’d been up for two days. The lines on his face were deep and made him look much older than forty. “And we still don’t have a damn shooter. We need to start pressing the Gold Vipers for more information.”
    “You think they really know who killed him?” I asked, but then immediately felt like an idiot when all eight eyes turned toward me.
    Walters grunted. “Of course they know. Hell, even we know it was the Devil’s Rangers.”
    “Has there been any recent retaliation at all?” I asked. “By the Gold Vipers?”
    “Not yet, but there will be,” said Jeffrey Bronson, another investigator on the task force. He was stuffing his bloated, puffy face with powdered donuts. Normally, I had no problem with obese men, but this one had ‘accidently’ groped me in the copy-room the other day. Jeffrey licked the powder from his fingers and grabbed another.  “That’s what my sources are saying. The Gold Vipers are playing this cool right now. They obviously know we’re watching them. But make no mistake, someone is going to pay for murdering Slammer. I’m sure they’ll probably even use the Judge again.”
    “Won’t Tank want to do it himself?” I asked, tapping my pen against the notepad in front of me. “Murder the guy who killed his father?”
    “He’ll want to and maybe he even will, but my informants claim that Slammer always insisted that the club pay someone else to do their dirty work. They keep their noses clean and by using a hit-man like the Judge, they’ll stay out of prison,” said Bronson, talking with his mouth full.
    From what I’d learned, the Judge was a hired hit-man and pretty much, untraceable. Rumor had it that he was used to kill Breaker and also blew up the Devil’s Ranger’s club in Hayward, Minnesota. Not only did he apparently know what he was doing but he was a master of disguise. We didn’t even have a real description of him. For all we knew, the Judge could be a young woman.
    “I have people breathing down my back about this fucking case and they want answers, just as much as I do. So, we need to dig deeper. Even if it means that we grill the Gold Vipers until one of them breaks,” said Walters, running a hand over his face.
    “We’ve tried,” said Bronson. “In fact, last time we were interrogating one of them, they requested a lawyer and now they’re all throwing that in our faces. ‘Talk to my fucking lawyer’. That’s all I hear now.”
    “You interrogated one of them just recently?” I asked. “When was that?”
    “Just a few days ago. A Prospect named Dover,” said Bronson. “Brought him in after his sister’s scumbag boyfriend was found beaten to a pulp, in the back alley of Sal’s. She had bruises on her, too. Nobody is confessing to anything, but it looks like the boyfriend might have knocked her around and when big brother found out about it, he took matters into his own hands.”
    “Were there any charges pressed?” asked Walters.
    “Of course not. The boyfriend is scared shitless of Dover and his club. Hell, the asshole is lucky that he just got off with a broken nose and a few bruises,” replied Bronson.
    Walters looked at me. “You haven’t met any of them face-to-face yet?”
    “No,” I replied.
    “Maybe we’re going about this wrong,” said Walters, tapping his thumb against the desk.
    “What are you thinking?” asked Bronson, a funny smile on his face. “Send O’Brien over to the