a cop escort. “That woman,” Sassy replied, pointing.
Logan glanced over his shoulder. Maybe he’d been wrong about her. When it mattered most, she covered her tracks well.
“This should be interesting,” Tigger said, nodding toward the police car. He eased his bike next to Logan’s and explained. “Victory used to work with kids.”
“How do you know?” Logan asked.
“Remember Denise?”
“Your old lady?” Logan teased.
“She wasn’t my old lady.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Logan said. “She would’ve been.”
“Maybe,” he grumbled. “I just couldn’t picture myself playing daddy to her seven kids since they all needed a fill-in.” A beat later, he returned to the topic at hand. “Anyhow, I talked to her the other night, and she asked me if I’d seen Victory around. Evidently Denise liked her.”
“She doesn’t like anyone with boobs and a….”
“You can say the word around me,” Sassy assured him.
“I know I can,” Logan said. “But there’s a time and place for every word or phrase. I’ll wait until I can appropriately use—”
“You’re dead to me!” Victory screamed in the distance, averting everyone’s attention away from their current conversations. “Do you hear me, Damsel?” She pounded her fists against the car window. “I won’t stand by someone who kills. I’ll never support a man who has abused and raped women and children!” She punched the window, doubled over and screamed out in pain. “I hope you rot in hell! Do you hear me! I hope you burn for what you did to Addison…for what you did to your own stepdaughter!”
“Well, it looks like we don’t have to stick around to see if there are any other questions to be answered about Addison’s disappearance,” Tigger pointed out.
Logan patted Sassy’s leg. “You ready to ride?”
“Waiting on you,” she said, pressing her face against his leather jacket.
A recognizable and quite loud vroom-vroom made Logan jerk. He watched as Devon rolled into a parking spot right in front of the Devil’s Angels clubhouse.
“What’s he doing here?” Tigger asked.
“I can only guess,” Logan replied, observing the way Devon approached the police car. The Heroes and Rogues club president walked quickly and with determination. When he swung his arm behind his back, Logan caught a glimpse of a weapon.
“He’s got a gun!” Logan shouted, forcing all the law enforcement to draw on Devon.
“What the fuck, man?” Tigger screamed, jumping off his bike.
Logan left his motorcycle in a rush, too, slowing his pace when Devon turned to face him. Gripping a forty-five, he said, “Don’t get in my way, man.”
“Don’t do this, Devon. Let him stand trial for what he’s done,” Logan said.
“He’s right, Devon,” Tigger added. “You’ll spend your life in prison.”
“He killed her, man. He killed the only woman I’ve ever loved.”
That was bullshit. Devon liked her, but loved? Nah. Not from Logan’s point of view. Devon still moistened his stick wherever he could shake it.
“He’ll pay for his crimes, Devon,” Logan assured him, wondering if he sounded like the man’s friend or a true cop.
“He’ll walk! Damsel Road always walks,” Devon insisted.
“Think about what you’re doing here. His old lady already called him out. She fingered him for murder. Don’t do this.”
Damsel turned his head and stared at Devon. A big smirk was plastered on Damsel’s face and he further taunted Devon by extending his forefinger and thumb, pretending he held a gun. Then, he winked, which was probably the final straw.
Devon cocked his weapon. Realizing a shot would be fired immediately, Logan leapt toward him, tackling him in time to save him. Guns fired around them. Bullets ricocheted off metal and gravel.
Minutes later after the commotion settled, Devon was yanked to his feet by two officers. Secured in handcuffs, Devon was led away to another police car.
Tailed by Damsel’s old lady, Devon turned