Page 16 of Warrant (The Berserker’s Rage MC: Wyoming Chapter #1)

Warrant

“ H and me that.” I looked around to make sure no one was paying attention as Demo passed over the decal sticker. I pressed the new decal right under the word Sheriff and smoothed it out before taking the laminate off.

It’d been over a week since Ainsley had all but shoved me out the door of her house and basically told me to fuck off. She’d been ‘too busy’ to talk or see me since. It was driving me fucking nuts. Which, of course, meant I needed to keep myself occupied.

Demo eyed my work with a grin. “Looks good.”

I chuckled, then swore and we both jerked away from Owen’s squad car as he came out of the station.

Owen scowled at us. “What the hell? It’s bad enough when he’s here,” he said, jabbing a finger in my direction. “But with both of you loitering? What’d you do?”

I pasted a hurt look onto my face. “We weren’t doing anything. Just coming to see if you wanted to grab some lunch.”

Owen was always a good source of entertainment and I was bored.

“Yeah,” Demo added, “that new deli just opened up. Supposed to have bomb cheesesteaks.”

“ You don’t get to say the word bomb,” Owen reminded him. “Not after that incident with the old ironworks plant.”

Demo scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Place was a deathtrap anyway.”

“Now it’s rubble,” Owen grumbled. “Fine. We’ll check out the new deli.”

“Meet you there,” I said, heading over to my bike and starting her up. I grinned as Owen got in his car and headed out first. There, on the back of his squad car, it now said, “Sheriff,” then underneath “Booty,” then on the other side of the tailgate, “Patrol.”

Demo and I bumped knuckles then pulled out behind him. Not close enough that the entire town couldn’t get a good look at Owen’s new title, of course. Fuck, I loved my life.

“Fucking delicious,” Demo groaned, shoving another bite of a Philly cheesesteak in his mouth.

Owen gave him a look of disgust and handed over another napkin. “Jesus, at least swallow before shoving more in.” But he was biting back a grin.

“These are fucking good,” I said, polishing mine off.

“Don’t tell Scythe about this place,” Demo ordered.

“There’s enough to go around,” Owen said with a chuckle.

Demo and I looked at each other, then at him. “You haven’t seen Scythe put food away.”

“He’s not any bigger than this asshole.” Owen jerked a thumb at Demo.

“You know those restaurants in Cheyenne? The kind that do the eating challenges?” I asked.

“Oh yeah,” he replied. “Like Starries Pizza. I love that place.”

“Yeah. Scythe is working his way around all of them. He has yet to not beat a challenge.”

“Or hold the record. Including Starries,” Demo added.

“No shit,” Owen said, looking between us.

I shrugged. “Fucker can eat.”

“I saw someone try to do that challenge the last time I was in there,” Owen said. “That pizza was massive. Guy only got like a third of the way through it.”

“Yeah, I don’t know how he does it,” Demo said, looking ashamed. “I tried and ended up with five slices left.”

Owen whistled. “Even that is damn good. I wouldn’t have made it more than a few slices in.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re a pansy ass,” I told him with a grin.

He flipped me off.

“Nice car, Deputy,” Tansy, one of the waitresses, said with a giggle as she tied her apron around her waist.

Owen stiffened. “What’s wrong with my car? Kids egg it again?”

She looked over at us and saw our grins, then stifled her giggle with her hand. She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and wrote a number on it. “If you find yourself searching and not finding any, you can call.” She handed a baffled Owen the paper and pranced away.

Demo let out a howl of laughter.

“What the hell does that mean?” Owen asked us.

“She’s wanted you since she graduated a couple years ago,” I said.

“Since before then, but she was jail bait,” Demo wheezed.

“She’s like…eighteen,” Owen muttered.

“Twenty-one,” I corrected him.

They both looked at me with brows raised.

“Not interested,” I said with as much disgust as Owen had shown. “I like women. Not girls.”

“Same,” Owen said with a meaningful look.

“Well, I don’t see any women clambering to climb your flag pole,” Demo said. “Maybe you should give Tansy a ride so you don’t get rusty.”

“Fuck off, Demo,” Owen sighed. He shoved out of his chair. “Outside. We need to figure out what’s wrong with my car.”

We hung back as he stalked outside and then broke into uncontrollable laughter as he walked around and finally saw that his police cruiser said ‘booty patrol’ on the back.

“Why the hell do we have to help?” Demo grumbled.

“Because you put the fucking sticker on there,” Owen barked at him. “So you’re helping me get it off.”

I looked around and grinned. “Haven’t been in the impound lot before.”

“Don’t touch anything,” he warned, pointing a finger my way. “Just help me find the heat gun and a fucking razor blade so we can get this thing off my damn car.”

“How much trouble could you get in?” I asked.

“A lot. This is government property, asshole,” Owen muttered, searching through one of the buildings behind the police station.

The impound lot was enclosed by tall fencing and though I’d considered it a few times in the past, I’d never hopped those fences to check things out. Seeing what was sitting back here made me realize that’d been a mistake. I let out a low whistle and pointed at the window of a car.

Demo came over and looked inside. “Shit. That’s a couple grand worth of fishing equipment. Glitch would cream himself to have that.”

“Might forgive you for fucking up his fish finder, too,” I added.

Demo glanced over his shoulder, looking for Owen and tried the door handle. It was unlocked.

“You going to smuggle those rods down your pants?” I asked with raised brows.

He grinned. “Not enough room with what’s already in there.”

“Bullshit,” I snorted, but laughed anyway. “Wait ‘til later. We’ll come back and go shopping. This place is a fucking gold mine.”

Demo pointed and I nodded. “That’s a 1970 Plymouth ‘Cuda.”

“ I may have just creamed myself,” Demo admitted. “Fuuuuuck, she’s a beauty.” He went over and ran a hand over the hood in reverence.

“That car is going to be mine,” I said. “I’m calling dibs.”

He grunted and shook his head. “Pretty sure your girlfriend isn’t going to like that.”

I grinned at him. “She doesn’t need to know.”

He straightened up, crossed his arms over his chest, then leaned back against the car. “You serious about her?”

Shit. This wasn’t the place to have this conversation. “Demo-”

“No, really.” He raised his brows. “Because if you’re not, this is a dangerous game to be playing.”

I knew that. She was the sheriff. I was a vigilante biker. Worse. She knew it. And was now keeping her distance because of it. I needed to find a way around all that. But I wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. “Fuck me, but I am serious.”

He nodded. “Thought so. What’re you going to do about it?”

I shook my head. “Fuck if I know. I have no issues with the fact that she’s a cop.”

He scoffed at that. “ You wouldn’t. She’s the one who’s going to carry that burden. She’s the one with the reputation that needs to stay intact to do her job.”

“Since when do you bring up solid points?” I growled, glaring at him.

“Are you two assholes going to help me or what?” Owen bellowed from across the lot. He held up a heat gun in a ‘what the fuck’ gesture.

“I care, even though you’re a dipshit,” Demo said quickly. “I just want to make sure you don’t find yourself in the middle of something that’s going to detonate.”

“Aw,” I said, giving him a sappy look. “You care? Really?”

“Fuck off,” he said. “Now I’m not going to do shit to help you.”

“Did you have something in mind?” I asked as we walked toward Owen and his cruiser.

“Not telling you now, fuck face.”

“Oh come on,” I said. “Don’t be a little bitch.

I was just-” I grunted as Demo’s fist connected with my stomach and every word I was about to say dropped into my asshole.

The big bastard threw a punch like a fucking sledgehammer.

I doubled over, wheezing for air as he whistled and walked away from me.

It took me a few minutes to assess whether my internal organs were still where they were supposed to be, before I made my way over to where they were scraping my carefully placed booty decal off the squad car. It’d been worth it.

Scowling at Demo, I reached in my pocket as my cell rang. “Yeah?” I asked without looking at the screen.

“War.”

Recognizing Scythe's voice, I focused on the call instead of my two best friends as they argued over how much heat and pressure to add to take the decal off without taking paint with it. “VP. What’s up?” There was something there in his tone that told me this wasn’t a social call.

“Get your ass to the club house. Now.”

“Will do. What’s going on?”

“Got a call from Tucson. Lockout called Cypher for help for some friends of his.”

“Which friends?” I asked, stiffening. If any of our allies were in trouble we’d be there to help.

“The Austin Viking’s Rampage. Something about some missing kids.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah. Demo there with you?”

“Yeah. I’ll bring him with me.”

“Good. Make it quick.”

The line went dead and I shoved my phone back in my pocket. We were good friends with the Tucson Chapter of the Viking’s Rampage MC, but had only met the Austin club in passing at some of the weddings Tucson had over the past couple years. The guys seemed solid enough.

They were still an MC club, but had gone legit a few years ago and tended to keep to themselves.

Couldn’t blame them. From everything the guys from Tucson had told me, they’d had to work hard to stay off law enforcement’s radar and in order to keep from going to prison they’d had to give up the life.

They’d done it happily to keep their families together. That was the ultimate fucking goal for most. Wives. Kids. The whole happy fucking package. Shit, if I wasn’t such a bachelor it’d be what I wanted too. Wasn’t sure that was in the cards for me. I was pretty set in my damn ways.

“Demo, we have to go.”

Owen scowled at me, then his features relaxed when he saw the look on my face. “Everything okay?” he asked, recognizing my war face.

“It will be,” I told him. “If you leave that, I’ll stop by as soon as I can to get it off there.” I wasn’t going to leave him to clean up my mess.

He shook his head. “Go take care of business, Warrant. I’ve got this.

” That was the thing about Owen. He was loyal to a fault and the most trustworthy man I knew.

He never asked what I got up to—knew he didn’t want to know—but he’d never ask me not to help my club.

He understood my need to be in the Berserker’s Rage.

To belong. That group of fucking misfits were like family.

I needed them. Needed the MC lifestyle. He knew I’d make this up to him.

“What’s going on?” Demo asked as we jogged across the lot toward our bikes.

“Time to get to work,” I told him. There wasn’t time to explain.

Cypher would do that when we got back to the clubhouse.

My heart rate picked up and I couldn’t help the grim smile that spread over my face.

Last thing I wanted was for kids to be in trouble, but fuck was I ready for some action.

If nothing else, it would help keep my mind off my own personal problems.