Page 15 of Other Woman Drama (Content Advisory #4)

Thirteen

I hate getting mad. It takes me like two and a half years to calm down.

— Silver to Webber

WEBBER

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, fully intending to send her the location of my place, but dropped my new phone when the huge bay door that I’d been closing after letting Silver and her car out was ripped out of my hands.

At first I thought it was the wind, but when the door swung all the way open again, I was staring at Officer Moran and four other federal agents that had FBI in yellow letters across the Kevlar vests that they were wearing.

Fuck.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“Piers Webb, you’re under arrest,” the man in front, an older gentleman with salt and pepper hair, said.

My brows rose. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Moran snorted. “Got you.”

“May I ask what I’m being arrested for?” I asked, knowing that they had nothing on me.

“No, you may not,” the second FBI agent said. “Now, turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

Knowing that resisting arrest, even if I wanted to, would only give them ammunition, I chose to comply and turned my back around to them.

“You armed?” third FBI guy asked.

“I’m always armed.” I nearly rolled my eyes. “This is Texas.”

I had a legal and constitutional right to carry, especially since I lived in Texas.

I was not a felon—at least that they knew of—and had every legal right on my side.

Yet, the way that they threw me down on the ground upon hearing that meant they thought differently.

Still I didn’t fight, even though I could’ve had all of these fuckers on the ground and out cold if I wanted.

“How do I know you’re actually an FBI agent?” I asked. “I’m cooperating, and you’re mistreating me greatly. I hope you know that I have every single inch of this place wired.”

“Sure,” the salt and pepper-haired douche said. “But cameras sometimes mess up.”

I rolled my eyes, catching his badge that had Special Agent Moran stamped on it. “Not mine.”

Of course, there would be a second Moran to deal with.

My guess, Special Agent Moran was former Kilgore Police Department Officer Moran’s father.

“Sure, everyone’s does,” he countered and I heard something crunch.

I didn’t have to look over to know that it was my brand-new phone.

“Oh, whoopsie,” I heard Moran say.

This bitch.

“Well take me in, then, so I can call my lawyer,” I said.

I could feel my face aching from where they’d practically ground it into the concrete.

No doubt I’d have a bruise and some scratches tomorrow.

“Lawyer, right…” FBI douche number two snorted. “We’ll get you to the station and we’ll figure out the rest from there.”

Meaning, I’d be sitting there for a really long time.

Nice.

The final straw was watching them “accidentally” knocking over my bike and causing the cookies to spill out all over the ground.

Mother. Fucker.

My mouth did, however, twitch up into a smile when I heard bikes coming.

Apollo was the one to manage the security on my shop—as well as multiple other Truth Teller-owned businesses—he’d probably known within two minutes that something was going on at my place out of character.

“Oh, shit,” I heard one of them grumble. “Shane, call it in.”

Shane was actually douche number three.

He had his phone out and he was calling in backup within seconds.

Except my guys weren’t stupid.

Even though they could overwhelm these four imbeciles, they didn’t.

They chose to pull up to the side of my shop and watch.

Cakes, Cutter, and Copper.

All three of them stayed on their bikes, but watched as the FBI agents shoved me into the vehicle.

I felt the hot drip of blood run down the length of my cheek and growled out in frustration. “Call Malone.”

I should’ve also said “call Silver and tell her what happened” but I was roughly shoved into the back seat of the cruiser and the door slammed shut before I could.

I watched as the three FBI agents pointed at the angry bikers that I called friends, likely telling them that they needed to leave.

Except for none of them moved, their intentions clear.

They weren’t leaving, no matter what the agents said.

I also saw the bitch Moran standing up by the open bay doors and had a feeling that I needed to get one of them to close the doors.

With no other choice, I knocked on the glass with my forehead, smearing blood and sweat on the glass, catching my friends’ attention.

When I had it, I flicked my chin toward the bay door that was swinging in the wind, and Cakes got off his bike in understanding.

He walked up to Moran and said something to her that caused her to narrow her eyes.

She stubbornly refused to move, though.

Cakes decided that it might be worth it to bump her out of the way with the door and went ahead and started closing the large bay door despite her being in the way.

Moran refused to move until the door hit her straight in the face—though the swinging of the door with more force was due to the wind catching it and not Cakes pushing it.

That door was dangerous.

I refused to let Eedie or my mom close it because it liked to walk out of your hands and fuck you up when you least expected it.

This time, I was happy that it had a mind of its own.

Moran stumbled back out of the way just far enough to allow Cakes to close the door.

He had the lock on the door as well as my cell phone picked up before she could stand up straight, blood pouring down her nose.

FBI agent number one and agent Shane got into the car and exchanged a look.

“This is a complete cluster…” Shane muttered under his breath so quietly that I could barely pick it up.

FBI agent number two, however, had a much deeper voice, allowing me to hear what they were whispering about.

“Complete and total fucking clusterfuck,” number two said. “Can’t believe she got her dad involved, and Moran fucking went with it.”

Ahh, so that made a little bit more sense.

“He wrote that kid off a long time ago,” Shane mumbled. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“It does if you want to get a name for yourself taking down a motorcycle club president,” I murmured, letting them know I could hear everything they were saying.

Both men’s mouths snapped shut so fast that it was comical.

“And Moran’s been let go from the Kilgore Police Department. Everything that she’s doing is just digging her hole deeper,” I mused. “You would be wise to not involve yourselves.”

Neither man said another word.

However, they did look uncomfortable as they took me to the FBI field offices in Dallas.

Though, that might’ve also been the growing motorcycle escort that they were getting.

By the time we got to the office, we had over fifteen bikers on our tail, and the boys in front were looking a little green.

“Such a bad idea,” Shane muttered as he got out and slammed the door.

Agent number two was the one to let me out of the car, and he winced when he saw the blood all over my face and neck.

“Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath.

I held my grin from forming, but only just barely.

It’d been a couple of hours now, and I still didn’t have my lawyer.

Though, I knew that she was there because there was constant yelling and commotion coming from the room beyond that had nothing to do with any prisoners.

“Tell me what happened, one more time, in your own words.”

I remained silent.

I didn’t say or do anything.

Hadn’t spoken a single word after I’d asked for a lawyer hours ago.

I knew how many seconds had passed since I’d arrived, too, because of the clock on the wall.

I was sweating my goddamn balls off, too, and my mouth was drier than the Sahara.

Though I wasn’t too surprised by the agent’s tactics.

This was interrogation one-oh-one.

Make the suspect uncomfortable and maybe he’ll talk.

Joke was on him.

I spent my entire life outside in the heat.

I’d been working in a metal shop in Texas heat for as long as I could remember.

They’d have to turn this up way hotter before I’d crack.

Was I sweating? Yes.

But not more than the man across from me asking me questions.

I yawned and considered taking a nap when Agent Moran’s anger got the best of him.

He shoved the table away from him so hard that it landed in my gut.

I refused to show that he’d knocked the wind out of me with that move seeing as I had nowhere else to go but the seat that was bolted to the floor. The seat that I was currently handcuffed to.

I looked at the agent with a bored expression and waited for his next move.

He’d already scraped me up pretty badly.

Now he’d shoved a table into my ribs and belly.

I couldn’t wait to use his own precious justice system against him and file a report of my own.

It’d make me smile, for sure, seeing that officer take my statement.

A knock at the door had us both looking in that direction.

“Uh, sir,” Shane reported. “There’s an angry mob of people outside right now that include a couple of camera crews.

Not to mention the video of, um, us taking this one into custody just went viral.

The lawyer is out there with the camera crew giving live commentary of the fact that we didn’t allow him due process… ”

“Or read me my Miranda Rights. Or, actually, tell me I was under arrest. I’m still not sure I’m that,” I pointed out.

“Let’s not forget the fact that you fucked my pretty face up.

Y’all also broke my phone, which was a cool grand and a half.

Then tried to leave my business open instead of letting me close it up.

If someone had walked in there and stolen something, it would’ve easily cost y’all a fuck ton. ”

Agent Moran’s eyes narrowed. “I know what you did. And I’m going to prove it.”

I raised a brow at him but didn’t comment.

“Let him go,” Agent Moran growled.

Shane looked nervously at me, and I raised my cuffed hands as far off the table as I could, jingling them when he didn’t get it done fast enough.

He looked nervous, and I liked nervous.

That meant that he wasn’t too sure about everything that was going on, and might be easily convinced if he had the right incentive.

I didn’t have any FBI agents on my side yet…

Agent Moran cursed and reached over, then yanked my arms toward him, purposefully causing me pain.

That would just be one more nail in his coffin.

If he was going to do illegal shit, he needed to do it in a sneaky way so he didn’t get caught. Because all of the shit he’d done today was easily trackable. And the right lawyer would put this motherfucker out of a job…

Moran uncuffed me and tried to shove the table at me again, but I was ready this time.

My hands caught the table before it could move an inch toward me.

This time, he was the one that got the table edge to the sternum and the wind knocked out of him.

He wheezed out a breath and looked scared for a second.

“Police brutality,” I mused. “You’re the reason that people are scared of the cops, motherfucker. Too much authority, too little of a dick to back it up.”

I stood up and headed toward Shane. “If you want me to wander around finding out your secrets, that’s fine. Or you could show me the way out.”

Shane swallowed hard. “Right this way, sir.”

I followed behind Shane who looked nervously over his shoulder quite a few times before he led the way to the main lobby.

Once we were there, I saw the entire place filled with people.

News reporters—all having cameras out and microphones at the ready. My lawyer, as well as my lawyer’s father, angry as fuck and ready for battle.

And then there was my club.

Four of them filled what was left of the small lobby, and I could see even more out on the street beyond the lobby.

The only one missing was Chevy, and he was likely stuck at work in a surgery.

Reporters started screaming their questions, but it was Malone, my lawyer, who made her way up to me and said, “Let’s talk.”

I followed her outside, slapped a few of the backs of my club members as we passed, and headed for her expensive as fuck brand new Range Rover.

I got into the passenger seat, she got into the driver’s seat, and she started the car up.

She waited until the air was blowing really hard and cool before she said, “Tell me everything that happened.”

I did, minus the fact that I’d actually killed the guy’s kid.

She probably didn’t need to know that part.

She eyed me up and down when she was finished, then said, “I know you’re fine, and you probably don’t want to do it, but we need to go to the emergency room and file a report.

It’s probably best to get this on record.

Get your injuries recorded and make sure that we have all this documented. Do you want to pursue a case?”

“I want that guy fired, and him to never work as a law enforcement professional ever again,” I said.

“That, I can make happen,” she said. “Let’s get this all documented. Ride with me to the hospital and tell me everything that you can think of, starting with the daughter of Agent Moran.”

I did, but only after I told the Truth Tellers that I was fine and heading to the hospital so I could sue the motherfucker for all he was worth.

The Truth Tellers could use a good party with the proceeds…

It wasn’t until hours later that I realized that in all the excitement, I’d left Silver hanging.

I’d never sent her my address.

Never gone back to her place to explain. Didn’t call or text.

Never even thought about her until the next morning.

Which was seriously fucking stupid.

Maybe if I’d thought about her at all, had gone over there, the next few days wouldn’t have happened the way they did.

I wouldn’t have ruined a good thing.

And Silver wouldn’t have paid for my mistakes.