Free Damned: Seven Tribesmen MC by Evelyn Glass Page A

Barely contained anger roiled inside of the woman as her hand lowered. Indignant thoughts ricocheted around her head. What right did he have to talk to her like that? She wasn't compromised, especially over one night with Arthur Bishop! Even if it had been some of the best sex she ever had.
     
    Her fellow agent stared at her with wide eyes.
     
    “Get your ass off my personal life, Stan,” snarled Stella, pointing a finger at his nose. “I told you nothing happened. Accept that and move on.”
     
    The woman snatched Nathaniel Williams's folder from her partner. He still stared at her with wide eyes and a burning, mortified flush on his cheeks. A few of the local officers whispered and watched. Without another word exchanged, Stella started for her office. The sudden urge to seclude herself stormed through her thoughts. Her fingers trembled, and angry adrenaline pinched at her guts. If she stayed in the vicinity of the others, especially Stan, she couldn't guarantee another physical strike wouldn't happen.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
     
    Stepping into her office, Stella breathed a little easier. Until she realized Bishop lounged at her desk. The man leaned back in her chair, his boots propped on the desk, an open file in his hands. Her adrenaline spiked just before the blush crept over her face. “What the hell are you doing here?”
     
    When Bishop turned his grey eyes to her, she suppressed a shudder. His gaze was hot and angry, sending chilly tingles over her skin. Even his lips didn't quirk in their usual, amused smirk. “Hello, Miss Holmes.”
     
    On auto pilot, Stella turned to her door and locked it, before shutting the privacy blinds. She didn't want rumors to run rampant, despite the fact one of the local rubes had to let the biker in. With her back turned to him, she tried to calm herself. Their dalliance last night was over. It was back to business, now. A tinge of disappointment peppered over her thoughts, but she shoved it aside. Turning back to Bishop, the woman steeled herself for intimidation.
     
    That's when she realized a curvaceous redhead perched on the edge of her desk. A fire lit in Stella's gut as she eyed the woman suspiciously. The redhead was gorgeous with deep red ringlets and warm brown eyes. Her body seemed to be inspired by an hourglass. A small flit of self-consciousness edged into Stella's thoughts.
     
    “Miss Holmes, this is Ms. Delilah Sampson. She wants to make a statement.” Bishop's voice floated through the office, clear and cold.
     
    Stella glanced to Bishop, before turning her gaze back to the redhead, “What about?”
     
    “First, I want protection.” The woman held up one long finger, tipped in a manicured nail. She smacked her gum loudly and sat a little straighter as she spoke, “This is high-risk shit, and I don't wanna end up in a ditch with my throat slit.”
     
    “All right. You'll be taken to a separate room to ensure your statement is given willingly and isn't a result of coercion,” Stella informed, her eyes swinging from Delilah to Bishop. Her gaze hardened as she continued to speak to the potential witness, “However, Mr. Bishop cannot stay in my office.”
     
    “I'm not going anywhere.” His own stare hardened, his lips fixed into a deep scowl. Electricity cracked between Stella and Bishop, neither willing to budge in their claims.
     
    “Well, considering I'm the only one available to question Ms. Sampso‒”
     
    A hesitant knock cracked against her door. Stella's stomach flipped unhappily as the doorknob rattled. She already knew who it was before the voice floated through the door, “Stella? I'm sorry for what I said. It was out of line.”
     
    The woman watched as Bishop's scowl slowly turned to a smug smile. His head listed to the side as if to say “Only one, really?” Her blush bit savagely at her cheeks as she spun on her heel. Unlocking the door, Stella opened it a crack, “Do you have time to take a witness statement?”
     
    “Yes.” Stan