Page 51 of Lockout (The Vikings MC: Tucson Chapter #11)

Warrant

I glanced up as the cop car pulled in next to my beat up pick up truck. Flipping my steaks on the grill, I called out, “Almost missed dinner, Fucker. Next time I’m not waiting to put the meat on.”

“I’m five minutes late, Warrant,” Owen said, walking over. He was still in his uniform, his gun holstered at his hip.

It had never bothered me that my best friend had decided to go into law enforcement once he got out of the military. I figured he’d join the Berserker’s Rage Motorcycle Club with me, but he’d really wanted to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps, so he’d become a deputy.

We’d been such terrorizing little shits in our younger years, I was shocked they’d let him swear in.

We’d grown up here in Sentinel, Wyoming.

It was a ranching community, not to be confused with Centennial, Wyoming, though it often was, and the town had gotten a lot bigger over the years.

It still wasn’t a huge city, but that was for the best. I didn’t want to live amongst concrete and buildings.

Looking out over my fields, I grinned. This was the life for me.

Smaller town, fifty acres, a small herd of cattle, and my MC.

It helped that I also worked for my president, Cypher, for his security firm.

Kept all those violent urges I had satisfied so that I didn’t remain a menace to my town.

Well, not as much as when I was a teenager anyway.

The violent urges couldn’t be quelled, but they could be redirected at least.

“Smells good,” Owen said, flopping down into one of the rocking chairs on the porch. He reached over and scratched behind Beau’s ears.

I didn’t get the chance to respond because Beau surged to his feet and started up that deep, gravel bay of his.

Owen sighed. “You had to get a hound dog.”

I chuckled as I turned my head to watch the sheriff’s Tahoe head down my drive. Frowning, I straightened. “Expecting company?”

Owen was welcome on my property, but I didn’t want his co-workers sniffing around. We had a tentative agreement with the former Sheriff and his deputies. The club didn’t bother them, and they didn’t bother us.

The shit we did with Sentry Securities was enough to keep us mellow on most days. Though if trouble came to our town, we’d fucking handle it if the cops couldn’t. This was our town. And we protected it, no matter the cost.

“Fuck,” Owen muttered. “That’s the new Sheriff.”

Studying the SUV as it pulled up, I shook my head. “Still can’t believe you didn’t try for that position. You’re the most experienced deputy Sentinel has. The town would have voted for you.”

The last sheriff had been counting down the days to his retirement. The last few years here had been pretty much a free for all for us. We did whatever the fuck we wanted, and mostly the cops stayed out of our way. I had no clue what it was going to be like now.

“Don’t want to be the sheriff,” he muttered, taking his ball cap off and hanging it off the arm of the rocking chair. He didn’t bother to get up though.

My eyebrows shot up as the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen got out of the cop car. “ That’s the new sheriff?”

“Warrant,” Owen said in a warning tone.

“Deputy Ward,” the sheriff called out as she walked up.

My eyes raked over her. The uniform hugged her form closely, showing off a body that was fit and trim.

She was tall, too. Had to be five-eleven or so.

Her black hair was smoothed back into a long ponytail that hung down her back.

Shrewd gray eyes moved over me then lingered on my cut that was hanging off the back of the empty rocker next to Owen.

“Sheriff Zimmerman,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

She focused back on my friend, allowing me to eye fuck her in peace. She had that typical no nonsense attitude drifting off her, the one a lot of cops wore like a second skin. But she wasn’t barking orders at Owen either. She clearly wanted her deputies to like and respect her.

“Sherwood was telling me you know where Denison kept the keys to his filing cabinet,” she said.

Owen shook his head. “Sorry, Sheriff. He didn’t share where he hid the damn things with anyone.”

She sighed. “And he’s on vacation in Bali and not answering his cell.”

“Something you needed out of there?” he asked.

Something flickered over her face. Embarrassment? I grinned as a light blush spread over her cheeks. “I just wanted to get caught up on some of the cold cases the town had. Look into a few things.”

“You’d be the first one to look at those files in years,” Owen said with a nod. “I’m sure the families will be appreciative.”

“I can help you get into it,” I offered.

Her eyes swung back to me and I tried to figure out if they were the same color as the fog that rose over my fields each morning, or the misty color of the sky near the coast before a good rain. Either way, she was drawing me in.

Well, damn.

I didn’t normally obsess over a woman as quickly as this, but what the hell? I smiled at her.

“Into my filing cabinet?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She was in one of the uniforms with the short sleeved shirts, and her arms were toned, with just the right amount of muscle. I loved chicks who lifted. It was clear she was strong, and it made me want to test her skills.

“That’s right.”

She snorted in disbelief, then nodded at Owen. “Sorry to interrupt your dinner. See you at muster tomorrow.”

I watched her ass as she walked away. She thought I’d been kidding, but getting into places I shouldn’t be in happened to be a specialty of mine.

Drove Owen, and all his fellow deputies, insane, because they were usually the recipients of my pranks when I was bored and no area was off-limits or sacred to me. None of their areas anyway.

Owen scowled at me. “You’ve got to be shitting me?”

“What?” I grunted, flipping the steaks before they burned. I might have overdone them. Nothing worse than well-done fucking meat. Served me right for getting so damn distracted. Though it wasn’t my damn fault a gorgeous female had just waltzed onto my property like she owned the place.

“You realize she’s my new boss?” he asked.

“Uniform kind of gave it away,” I muttered, glaring at my likely ruined steaks.

“And you’re in a one percent club,” he continued.

“Your point?”

“We’ve known each other since we were shitting our pants, Warrant. I know what that look you gave her means.”

I grunted again, ignoring the fact that my best friend was right. I was into her.

“She’s a cop,” he echoed.

“So are you and you’re still my friend.”

He shook his head. “Against my better judgement.”

“Naw, we’re just lucky your moral code doesn’t outweigh your common sense. I work for a legit security firm. We’re on the same side.”

He snorted at that and grabbed the plate I offered him. “There’s zero chance you follow the law.”

I thought about that then gave a decisive nod. “We’re work adjacent.”