Page 130 of Monk

O’Rourke’s gaze flicked to me, then back to Lina. “You’re telling me?—”

“I’m telling you,” Lina interrupted, her voice rising, “that you arrested an innocent man based on false testimony, fabricated evidence, and the word of a woman who waspaidto lie.”

The station had gone quiet. Every officer, every agent, every person in the room was watching. Lina didn’t care. She leaned forward, her hands braced on the desk, her face inches from O’Rourke’s. “I have had it,” she said, her voice shaking with barely contained rage, “with this station’s vendetta against the Diamondback Motorcycle Club. I have had it with your department arresting my clients without probable cause, without evidence, without due process.”

O’Rourke opened his mouth to respond, but Lina cut him off.

“You want to go after the Diamondbacks?” she said, her voice dropping to a deadly calm. “Fine. But you better make damn sure you collectallthe information before you eventhinkabout arresting another brother. Because the next time you come at them with a bullshit charge like this, I will bury you in so many lawsuits you’ll be answering interrogatories until you retire.”

She straightened, her gaze never leaving his. “Drop. The. Charges,” she said. “Now.”

O’Rourke stared at her for a long moment, and then he looked down at the folder again. His jaw worked, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

Finally, he nodded.

“I’ll talk to the DA,” he said, his voice tight. “If the evidence checks out?—”

“It will,” Lina said. “And when it does, I expect a formal apology. To my client. And to the club.”

O’Rourke’s mouth thinned into a hard line, but he didn’t argue.

Lina turned on her heel and walked toward me, her expression still fierce, still furious. When she reached me, she didn’t stop. Just grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the exit.

I followed, my chest tight, my heart pounding because watching her work, watching her tear through that station like a force of nature, defending me, protecting me, fighting for me, was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen and was seriously giving me a raging hard-on.

She was a warrior.

Just like me.

Only her battlefield was a courtroom, and her weapons were words, and she wielded them like a fucking sword.

The ride back to the clubhouse was quiet.

Lina drove her car, and I followed on my bike. The night air was cool against my skin, the rumble of the engine beneath me grounding me in a way nothing else could, as my mind raced with what happened at the station.

The rape charges were dropped. Lina had destroyed them with a single folder and a few well-placed threats, but the ATF arrest was a different problem entirely. Conspiracy to transport unmarked firearms across state lines.

That charge had teeth, and unless Lina could prove the roadblock was unlawful, unless she could discredit the intel they claimed to have, we were all looking at serious time.

I pulled into the clubhouse compound behind Lina and killed the engine as she climbed out of her car, her expression still tight, still angry.

I swung off my bike and walked over to her. “You okay?” I asked, my voice low.

She looked up at me, her eyes flashing. “No,” she said. “I’m not okay. I’m pissed. I’m exhausted. And I’m terrified that this is just the beginning.”

I reached out and cupped her face, my thumb brushing over her cheekbone. “We’ll figure it out,” I said. “Together.”

She closed her eyes and leaned into my touch. “I know,” she whispered. “I just need a minute.”

I nodded and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Take all the time you need, baby.”

Inside the clubhouse, the tension was thick enough to choke on. Brothers were gathered in the main room, their voices overlapping as they argued and shouted over each other.

“—how the fuck did they know?—”

“—someone talked, had to be?—”

“—no way they justhappenedto set up a roadblock?—”