Page 5 of Warrant (The Berserker’s Rage MC: Wyoming Chapter #1)

Warrant

N ews traveled fast in Sentinel. Just like in any small town. A local teen had been killed this morning in a hit and run. Everyone knew Mary and Jay Rice. They were good people. Their kids were good kids.

“Have they caught the fucker?” Cypher asked, looking around our table. We were in church.

“Yeah,” I answered. “Owen said the new sheriff picked him up about an hour after it happened. It was some fucker from out of town. Stopped long enough to get wasted then tried to keep driving through to Cheyenne.”

“Too bad. Denison woulda still been in bed and we could have handled it,” Scythe muttered. There was murder in his eyes.

I couldn’t blame him. We loved the people of this town. And most loved us. They knew they’d always have someone to turn to if they needed help.

“Things are going to change with a new sheriff in town,” Cypher told us. “We’re going to need to take a step back on some things.” He eyed his vice president when Scythe started to speak. “I said some. Not everything.”

Scythe just shrugged.

“It’s probably better this way,” he said with a sigh. “She does her job right and the people will have two lines of defense. Something they haven’t had in a long time.” He rubbed his beard. “We’ll see how she does.”

“We going to the funeral?” Demo asked.

“Yes.” Cypher nodded. “We’ll go as a group. Show of solidarity.”

“I’ll get some flowers sent over to the family,” Jury offered. “Just watched Brandon play in last week’s baseball game.” He shook his head.

“That’s a good plan,” Cypher said. “Put it on the company card. Get something nice from all of us.”

Everyone was quiet for a time and Cypher sighed. “It’s slow right now. Let’s just make our presence known around town. Show of force. Let people know we’re here if they need us.”

“We expecting any kind of trouble?” Cynic asked, tilting his head.

“Guy’s some big shot bank CEO from Cheyenne,” Glitch offered up. “Sheriff might have a fight on her hands with him and whatever lawyer he hires.”

“There were witnesses,” Torque said, disgust heavy in his voice. “He’s not getting away with this.”

“He’s not,” Cypher agreed. “We’ll make sure of it. Glitch. If the cops have any trouble pulling camera feeds, anything like that, make sure it gets smoothed out and into their hands.”

“Will do, Prez.”

“I’ll go speak with the new sheriff later today. Make sure she realizes that we can be an asset to her if she has need of us.”

“You think she’ll see that as stepping all over her toes?” Rotor asked.

Cypher shrugged. “If she’s like Denison? Yeah. But I’m hoping we can have a more friendly relationship with this sheriff.”

Me too. And handsy.

Or my hands anyway. No one else was going to be touching my sheriff.

The fact that it didn’t even bother me that I was already thinking of her as mine should have been a red flag, but it wasn’t.

I’d woken up with a raging hard-on thanks to Ainsley premiering in my dreams. Not that I was about to tell my brothers that.

And now wasn’t the time to be thinking that way. Not when grief had stricken Sentinel.

Pyre had been quiet through the meeting, just waiting and listening. Mary and Jay were cousins of his. Which meant Brandon had been as well.

“You doing okay?” I asked him quietly.

His eyes met mine and he sighed. “Yeah. As well as can be expected.”

Pyre had seen a lot in the military. He’d been a Navy Hospital Corpsman. He’d seen a lot of death. Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when it hit close to home.

“Anything I can do?”

He shook his head, arms crossed over his chest as he focused back on Cypher. I just gripped his shoulder and squeezed then let him go. He’d talk if he needed to. He knew we were here for him.

This had rocked the town. Shit like this didn’t happen often here. Oh sure, we had scum bags, just like everywhere. Druggies, drunks, and criminals. There wasn’t a place that didn’t have their own brand or version. But something senseless like this? It was hard to wrap your head around.

This was the kind of place kids were supposed to be able to walk to school and be safe.

Brandon had been walking his younger siblings to school this morning before he would take himself to his own classes.

They did it every day. The Rices only had one vehicle, and Jay always dropped Mary off at her shop before he left for work at the mill each day.

Brandon had adored his younger sisters and had volunteered long ago to walk them.

Ms. Bussy sat on her porch each morning, shrewd eyes on the children, making sure no one bothered them as they walked to the local school.

Mr. Harolds at the local hardware store would sweep that porch off every morning, waiting for them to pass before he went inside for the day.

Sentinel was a place where the people watched out for each other. They’d watch out for the Rices now, too. Console them in any way they could.

“Alright,” Cypher said, his eyes on Pyre. “We’re done. Pyre. Hang back.”

Shoving out of my seat, I walked out of Sentry Securities. Cypher would have a talk with Pyre, see what he needed. I wanted to check in with Owen and Ainsley, make sure that asshole who’d caused all this was going to be getting what he deserved.

People were moving around at a faster clip than normal inside the sheriff’s station. No surprise there. Owen was on the phone, so I just jerked my chin in acknowledgment and headed on back to Ainsley’s office.

She looked up as I walked in. What I saw let me know that she was going to fit in just fine here in Sentinel.

Determination was written all over her face, but there was sorrow in those smokey gray eyes.

She hadn’t even known this boy, yet his death was affecting her.

Sometimes, people in law enforcement, or the military, could lose that compassion.

Everyone became suspects and dirt bags and it was hard to see the good in people.

That wasn’t her. At least not yet. Hopefully not ever.

“Hey,” I said, dropping the locks I’d brought with me onto her desk. “I’m sure you’re busy. I can install these later.”

“Thanks, that would be helpful,” she said. She didn’t bother to smile.

Looking over my shoulder down the hall where I knew the jail cells were, I asked, “Everything going alright?”

She swallowed hard. “You ever have to tell parents that their kid was dead?”

I pulled the chair away from her desk and sat down because she looked like she was struggling.

The fact that she’d even said that to me was a minor call for help.

I may not know her well, yet, but I knew the type.

She was a tough woman. Giving news like that could break you if you weren’t careful. “Yeah. Actually.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “What happened?”

“I was an MP—military police—” I told her with a rueful grin when she arched a brow.

“Yeah, I know,” because that always surprised everyone given how much shit I gave the LEOs here.

Though the way she raised her brow told me she already knew.

“Anyway. Wife had her kids down at the playground. They’d just put a new splash pad on base.

” I shrugged. “Shouldn’t have been deep enough, but it was.

She was busy chasing her six kids around and lost track of one.

Not enough lifeguards, mom outnumbered by too many young kids, you get the picture.

It was an accident. I had to find her husband and break the news. ”

She shook her head. “Worst part of the job.”

“Yeah, it is,” I told her. “You need to talk about it.” I barked out a laugh when she scrunched her nose. “You’re law enforcement alright.” Talking about feelings was the equivalent of taking an acid bath.

Her lips lifted just the slightest bit. Then the smile disappeared. “Bringing this asshole to justice doesn’t seem like enough.”

I snorted at that. “It’s not.”

“But it has to be,” she said, voice soft. “It’s all I have to offer.”

“It’s more than Denison would have bothered with,” I told her.

“You really didn’t like him,” she said with a sardonic smile.

“Not much to like. He was lazy, arrogant, and didn’t give a shit about anything but his pension.”

I met her sorrow-filled eyes. “You’re already doing a better job. The townspeople will see that. Trust me.” I knocked on the desk, then stood up. “I’ll be back tomorrow to install those locks.”

Stalking out of her office, I took a left down the hall.

“No. War. No.” Owen was standing there in front of the jail cells. He shook his head. “I’m so fucking sorry for Pyre, brother, but you can’t be back here.”

The fucker who’d taken the life of a young kid was sitting on a bench in the cell, suit rumpled and crinkled, looking like hell. But there was an arrogant look on his face that made me want to force him to stop breathing.

“I’m serious, Warrant,” Owen cautioned.

“I’m going,” I told him. We locked eyes. “Make sure this goes down the way it should.”

“We will,” he assured me.

“If not, give me a call.” With that, I left the station before I killed that fucker and took his place in the cell.