Page 16 of Thick

Convincing the men that Officer Madden was not a threat to the club’s safety, especially after a trusted prospect ended up being a cop, would be a tough sell. It didn’t matter. Regardless of my desire to do so, seeing her again would be highly unlikely and I needed to realize it.

She was a cop, and I was a convict and an outlaw biker. Despite my attraction to her while I was locked up, we’d never spend a moment together outside the walls of the jail. It certainly wasn’t my hope to continue along this path, but it was a realistic outlook on what the future held.

I decided a change in subject matter was necessary to clear the air. “So, other than Tank being a fucking cop and P-Nut shacking up with his gay neighbor, has anything else happened?”

“Not much,” Crip said with a laugh. “Same old shit.”

Tank being a cop and setting me up on a crime hung heavily on my mind. I’d been deceived, and I didn’t like it one bit. I finished my beer, tossed the bottle in the trash, and turned around. “How’d we find out Tank was a cop?”

Smokey looked at the men, and then cleared his throat. “Remember the cop that arrested Crip for murdering Whipple’s brother?”

Him and three or four other cops stormed into the clubhouse one day while we were in the middle of a meeting. After demanding that Crip surrender, he arrested him at gunpoint and took him to jail on murder charges.

The charges were later dropped and Crip was released, but the cop – and his attitude – weren’t something I’d soon forget. His arrogance preceded him, and he looked like he belonged on one of my book covers, not in a police station.

“Smart mouthed fucker that pulled out his gun here in the shop?” I asked. “Looked like he ought to be managing The Gap in San Diego?”

Smoke nodded.

“Yeah, I remember him, why?”

“I took Tank as a prospect when you got arrested.” Smokey said. “The fucker was trying to get on my good side and pump me for information. He set up a mock fight at a diner one day with another undercover ATF agent. Made it look like the other cop was trying to steal my bike. Hell, the bastard had me fooled. Then, one night, the cop that arrested Crip came by my house and told me Tank was an ATF agent. Explained how he set you up on the gun charge. Handed you the gun while he had ATF agents were waiting to arrest you. The whole thing was a set up.”

The entire thing was starting to sound like an embellished scene out of one of my biker books. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at Smokey in disbelief. “That asshole cop just came to your house and said, ‘Hey, there’s something I think you should know. Tank’s a cop and he set Meathead up on a gun charge.’”

“Pretty much, yeah.” He motioned toward P-Nut. “I told ‘Nut, and the next thing we know, Tank goes missing. ‘Nut kept his ass in that metal box for two months before we knew what really happened.”

I glanced at P-Nut, and then at the other men. Each of them gave me a reassuring look. Uncertainty sank into the pit of my stomach.

We were a club that wasn’t involved in an ongoing criminal enterprise like drugs, extortion, or prostitution. We did, however, spend a fair amount of time protecting our turf, and standing up for people who were being victimized by others – and those actions were often criminal.

There were far too many cops involved in the club’s recent activities for my comfort.

I looked at Crip. “Sounds to me like we’ve got a few too many cops in the mix, Boss.”

“Tank’s gone for good,” he said. “That other cop? I don’t know what to think about that prick. He keeps showing up, but nothing ever comes of it.”

“He’s a fucking cop, Crip. You said it earlier. A cop’s a cop.”

“I second that,” P-Nut said.

Everyone else chimed in with an agreement of some sort.

Therein was my answer. I didn’t like it, but it wasn’t something I could argue. I could thank Officer Madden for her hospitality, but going further than that wasn’t something that was in my – or the club’s – best interest.

Chapter Seven

Bobbi

Tate had been gone for two weeks. His leaving caused me to realize just how much I looked forward to the conversations we had during his stay at the institution.

As a matter of choice, I had very few people in my life. There was a handful of girls I was friendly with, but I really didn’t have any close girlfriends. When it came to men, matters weren’t much different.

Early in life, I eagerly hooked up with whoever was willing to pay me a moment’s attention. It took a few years and a plethora of sucked dicks to learn my lesson, but my experiences told me that when it came to women my size, men weren’t interested in relationships. They only wanted a blowjob or a booty call.

As a result, I now shied away from most men.

Tate was different. He obviously wasn’t driven by sex. He seemed to genuinely be interested in me as a person. Naturally, I wondered how much of the attention he gave me was due to my being the only woman he came in contact with.