Tastes Like Candy

Nineteen

 

Nineteen

Jinx

Had it really been just a couple of hours since he'd been shown into the temporary ATF HQ at the precinct? It seemed like it had been weeks instead. Things in his head were different now. Necessarily so.

Riley had been smug and happy as a cat when the desk sergeant showed Jinx into the room. "Mr. Sawyer. Glad you stopped by."

"Yeah, I'm not staying," he'd said. His chest had constricted painfully, and he'd had to force himself to breathe normally. He was having a physical reaction to this place; understandable, given all the ways in which he could have been arrested on the spot.

He sat down. "What sort of deal are you offering?"

Riley's brows quirked. "When did I say 'deal'?"

"That's what it means when a cop talks about helping people, and being lenient. It meals I rat, and you cut me a deal, right? So what kind of deal?" Just saying the words left his mouth dry. His heart galloped.

Riley tilted his head and pretended to consider. "Well, there's always immunity, obviously. I'm not sure I could swing wit pro, but you might need it, given the circumstances..."

"Here's my other question," Jinx interrupted. "If you already have a source within the club, one who can feed you all sorts of info, why in the hell would you start talking deals with me? Don't you have a deal with them? Isn't this already in motion? You only need one rat, not two."

Riley's face spasmed. A fast glimpse of "oh shit" before he locked it down.

Busted.

"Right." Jinx shoved to his feet. "You might want to tell your agent, whoever he is, that we're not fucking stupid." He turned his back on the man and left the precinct.

Back in the flatbed, he took a long moment to concentrate on his heartbeat, getting it under control.

So now he knew two things. One: the ATF was getting intel somehow. Two: so far none of it was that useful, and Riley was starting to get twitchy, and reaching at straws.

Did that rule out Michelle? Not entirely. At least not in his mind. It bothered him too greatly that Candy was inside out over her; he couldn't help but think that there was something strange at play.

Conflicted, pissed off, he started the flatbed and headed back to the clubhouse. Pup was the only one around, so he grabbed the kid on the promise of lunch and they headed into town to see if they were needed at the Odell's disaster...

Then they'd seen the trucks parked off on the side of the road. Had seen the bike, and recognized it as Candy's. The rest had been a whirlwind.

Now he stood just inside the hanging privacy curtain of a semi-private exam room, arms folded, watching a nurse hand Michelle a thick wad of aftercare literature. The doctor had stabilized the fractures with a clunky brace and given her strict instructions not to remove it, lest she worsen the damage. She was in a sling, and her expression was absolutely miserable.

Jinx felt sorry for her.

He heard shoes squeak on the tile behind him and turned to look as Pup drew to a bouncy halt.

"He's out of surgery and waking up. Doc says we can come see him."

Michelle jumped down off the table, startling the nurse, wincing as the jar went up to her hand. "Shit," she whispered, but wasted no time, heading toward them.