Page 12 of Rough Ride

“Self-defense against the police?” Max asked indignantly. “That’s a long shot.”

“Torrez is Hispanic, Crawford’s mom was full blood Inuit. If we play the racial profiling card, the jury will squirm. It’s a hot topic these days, and they won’t shy away from a hate crime by armed officers, who according to their profiles, are all white.”

“If, if, if, that’s all I’m hearing are ‘ifs’,” Max snapped and yanked the tube from his nose. “Do you or do you not have a solid case for me?” Eliana glanced at Kye who kept his stoic gaze forward. With a shaky sigh, Eliana shook her head no. Max made a gesturing motion to the two men at the door, and one of them opened it.

Kye visibly tensed when Dhal walked in. Their bad blood was still bubbling under the surface. What made Eliana visibly pale was the gun he wore on his right hip. Dhal walked forward, his shoulder slamming into Kye’s as he did.

“It seems Miss Granville is unable to fulfill her end of the bargain,” Max said coolly as he walked around to the other side of his desk to stand in front of Dhal. “I think you know what needs to be done.” Eliana looked worryingly at Kye who remained infuriatingly placid, even when Dhal began reaching for his side. She stepped backward when Dhal turned toward her, but instead of the gun from his holster, he held his cell phone.

From his position, barely an arm’s length away, she could hear the phone ringing from the other end. “Steward?” he asked when the other person picked up. “It’s done, light it up.” There was muttering on the other end of the phone, and Dhal hung up. He slid his phone back into his pocket, looked Eliana up and down once more, and brushed past them as he left.

“That’s it?” Eliana asked when the room fell silent. Max was sitting on the edge of his desk with arms folded.

“What did you expect? An execution?” There was a tension in his voice she guessed was either aggravation or condescension. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I have a particular way I like to keep my office,” he said, stepping toward her. “It wouldn’t do to have your brains splattered all over my clean carpet.” Max lifted a hand to brush her cheek, and she flinched.

“Then what…” Her question was cut short when Max backhanded her. The hit knocked her head to the side, but her shock made her eyes fly back to his. Seeing it as defiance, Max drew his arm back and punched her straight in the mouth. With a short cry, the blow sent her to the floor and before she could gather herself, he used his foot to shove her onto her back and pinned her by the throat. Eliana choked on the pressure and tried to push his foot off, but that only made him press down harder. Her vision began to swim, and her eyes frantically looked to Kye.

“Max,” Kye said with pleading in his voice, and his hand twitched toward his own gun.

“Don’t cross me, boy. You’d be dead before you chambered a bullet,” Max warned, pointing at him. From the door, both enforcers had their automatic weapons drawn on him. Eliana felt near passing out, her legs kicking wildly as she tried to free herself. “Besides, I’ve decided to give her another chance,” Max said and removed his foot. Gasping for air, her hand flew to her neck. Eliana rolled onto her side and feared she may vomit.

“Don’t touch me,” she rasped out when Kye tried to help her up. Max laughed as he watched the interaction.

“Don’t be too mad at the boy,” Max said, sitting on the edge of his desk again. “It's him you have to thank for me not wringing that pretty neck of yours.” Eliana looked at Max in confusion, her hand still clutching her throat. “He told me all about your assessment of the situation. Having a high-profile case so closely linked to the club would not serve our best interests.”

“So you never wanted me to get them acquitted?” she asked, and her throat hurt terribly when she tried to talk. “Was this all part of your sick game?”

“Don’t test me, Miss Granville,” Max warned. “I wanted Torrez and Crawford free, but those two jackasses had to get themselves caught on camera and tried to shoot their way out. If there’s no way to get the charges dismissed completely, they’ve secured their own fate. As I told you before, I won’t have them tied to our organization.”

“If you leave them in prison, what’s going to stop them from talking?” Eliana asked as she felt her vision finally restored. “If they have dirt on you, the DA will offer them a deal.”

“Oh, they’ve already been offered a deal,” Max stated and bit down on the cigar that had previously been smoldering from the ashtray on his desk. “But don’t you worry, they won’t last the night,” he said, blowing out a puff of smoke. “There’s going to be a fight in their cell block. Poor guys won’t make it.”

“You’ll kill your men, just like that?” she asked in morbid shock.

“A better question to ask is, ‘if I’m willing to kill my own men, what will I be willing to do to you if you let me down again’. That’s a question you’d better spend the next forty-eight hours thinking very carefully on,” Max advised. “I’ve got nearly a dozen guys sitting in county cells I want to be released. I’ll get you the information, you get it done.”

“That’s my second chance?” Eliana asked.

“No, that’s what you’re going to do while I consider keeping you on the payroll or killing you,” he answered, pointing at her with his cigar. “It couldn’t hurt your case to get them released. Even better if you get state patrol off my back.”

“So that’s it? I stay caught in the web of your agenda? I free a dozen men and you’ll, what, let me go? Send me home? Why don’t I believe that?” she asked with a wave of nausea crashing into her. Max approached her once again, and she visibly cringed when he trailed a finger along the red mark on her throat.

“You’re a smart woman,” he observed in a low tone. The sickly-sweet smell of his cigar was near as suffocating as his boot. “What did I say about blood on the carpet?” he asked and ran his thumb over her swollen lip where he’d struck her. The blood from her lip covered his thumb, and he licked it off. Eliana nearly gagged. “Get her home,” he ordered shortly, and Kye didn’t hesitate to take Eliana’s arm and pull her from the room.

Kye was quickly pulling her out of the compound and back toward his car when Eliana collapsed. It had rained the night before, and the slick ground and her shaking body contributed to her slip. Kye reached for her, and she shoved him away as she stood.

“This is all your fault!” she screamed and slammed her fists on his chest. “You just stood there! You stood there and did nothing!” Eliana was bordering on hysterical, and she didn’t notice the small crowd from the bar watching the interaction. Kye felt powerless to do anything.

“Alright, alright, let’s break it up!” Eliana felt a hand on her shoulder and through her tears, she saw Jez standing behind her. She’d been helping to unload the shipping truck of beer crates when she’d seen the interaction. “No need for the theatrics, my girl,” she suggested and nodded toward the tough-looking crowd of bikers who were watching them.

“I don’t care,” she argued and used the back of her hand to wipe her face. The rough action reopened the cut on her lip.

“You will when the guys see you beating up their VP. Whose defense do you think they’re going to come to, sweetie?” Eliana only quieted as a response. “KD, get yourself inside and order a round of drinks on the house. I’ll take her to get cleaned up.”

Feeling she didn’t have a say in the matter, like anything else in her life at the present, Eliana followed Jez through the back entrance of the bar, not bothering to look back at Kye who was watching her walk away with desperation in his eyes.

Jez led her straight into what must have been her office and gestured for her to sit. Eliana remained standing as Jez entered the bathroom to fetch something. The office was small. Likely a renovated section of the storage room, but it had a desk, a three-seat couch, a mini-fridge, and two bookshelves. Eliana picked up the framed photo off the desk. It was a younger version of Jez in a hospital bed holding a baby wrapped in a pink blanket.