Free Firefight: The Soul Scorchers MC (The Scorched Souls Serial-series Book 2) by C.L. Riley

Boone’s husky voice calling me babe, teasing me about being sore. And he missed me…or so he said.
    It didn’t matter what the truth was, because even a note from him sent my tummy into turmoil and fired a jolt of anticipation right through me, temporarily silencing any lingering guilt over my former employees.
    Damn him.
    In some ways, he was more dangerous than the arsonist. At least with the arsonist, I understood what he wanted – me dead, burned beyond recognition.
    With Boone…I had no clue, everything was uncertain. His motives were a mystery; his endgame a big question mark. If he burned me, it would be a different type of death. He’d scorch my soul and slice up my heart, leaving me seared and scarred in the ashes.
    Maybe their goals weren’t so different, after all.
    Either way, I was in the midst of a firefight.
    Boone
    I left the police precinct, where the ATF had set up shop, far more confident than when I’d first arrived. My conversation with Conner Mills and an older FBI agent had gone surprisingly well, considering Conner had pulled out all the stops to make me look like a piece-of-shit thug, who fucked up just by breathing the same air as everyone else.
    When he’d tried to railroad me, the veteran agent had put him in his place, a reprimand that Olympia’s fiancé had grudgingly accepted with a glare. There appeared to be no love lost between the two men, which only served to benefit me.
    FBI Agent, Roger Wilson, was proficient and professional. From what he said, and more from what he didn’t say, I got the impression he wasn’t buying Conner’s theory that our club was behind the attacks. In fact, he questioned me more like a witness than a potential suspect, asking for my observations and thoughts on the arsonist’s identity and motives. I’d argued that starting the fires served no purpose for us and hurt our businesses and community ventures, which happened to be the truth.
    Frustrated with my explanation, Conner suggested we were trying to bait the Hells Guardians, a speculation I countered with a big: Why the hell would we want to do that when things had been going so smoothly the past couple of years between the clubs?
    Agent Wilson seemed to agree.
    They requested I remain available for future questioning, something I’d anticipated. I made sure to remind them this was my home and I had no intention of going anywhere. As a gesture of my commitment to their cause, I extended the final olive branch, letting them know the Soul Scorchers would do everything possible, within the confines of the law, of course, to find the asshole responsible.
    By the time I left to head to the mayor’s, it was evident Conner regretted interviewing me. His fragile ego had been deflated like a wrinkled old balloon, making him look more like a spoiled rich kid with a grudge than a federal agent.
    I was feeling damn good when I stepped up to my bike and reached for my helmet. Olympia had rocked my world last night with her bedroom antics, and I was looking forward to more of the same, once my club duties were done for the day.
    The distinguishing roar of several Harleys, heading west on Main Street, grabbed my attention. I hoped it was my guys. A beer and burger with brothers after the meeting sounded good.
    My mood plummeted when I recognized the riders. They were early.
    Ringo, the Hells Guardians’ notorious Road Captain, came into view first, colors flying, flanked by two other bikers. A white cargo van followed close behind.
    Pedestrians, both tourists and locals, stopped to gape at the intruders. Most Seal’s Cove residents were aware on some level of our violent history with the other club and weren’t big fans. Adding to the tension was Conner Mills’ and Mayor Olsen’s public accusations that bikers were behind the fires and the mayor’s abduction. Several people looked my direction trying to gauge my response.
    I lifted my chin, acknowledging our ‘guests,’ and then mounted my beast,