Impulsively (Dante's Nine MC) (25 page)

There
.
A cloud of dust, kicked up by a trundling jeep that’s headed directly toward
me. My heart collides painfully with my ribcage as I brace myself for what
comes next. I’ve never felt more exposed on than I do right now. I’m used to
having the strength of the FBI right behind me, but this is uncharted
territory. It’s just me, up alone on this hill, with a violent maniac coming my
way.

And to think I thought this assignment might end up being
uneventful.

The jeep roars over the rise before me, skidding to a halt
across the flat expanse of land. I wrestle my features into a mask of composure
as the driver’s door flies open. Jeff Bruno swings himself down from the
vehicle, drawing himself up to his full, hulking height. He squares his broad
shoulders, a smug sneer curving his meaty lips. A subtle quake begins to
destabilize my legs. Dammit—I can’t let him see how scared I am.

“Long time no see, Collins,” he says, taking a swaggering
step toward me.

“You’ve been keeping pretty busy in the meantime, haven’t
you?” I return, holding my ground. “Thanks for coming to meet me, Bruno.”

“My curiosity got the better of me,” he shrugs, “I had to
come see just what the hell you hope to accomplish with this little
rendezvous.”

“I told you,” I say simply, “I want in on this scheme you’re
running.”

“Scheme?” Bruno scoffs, “This ain’t no slumber party,
Collins.”

“Racket, then. Whatever,” I reply, “I want a piece of the
action.”

“What
action
are you referring to, little lady?” Bruno grins, closing the space between us.

“You’re clearly working to take down the Devil’s Wraiths and
Dante’s Nine in one fell swoop,” I begin, refusing to budge an inch as Bruno
creeps closer, “And there’s only one reason you could possibly have for going
out on a limb and manufacturing a case against them. Money.”

“Who says I’m manufacturing a case against them?” Bruno
asks, widening his eyes in mock innocence.

“If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be trying to shake me off the
case,” I shrug, “You didn’t want me reporting back to Mitchell that there was
nothing to see at the clubs. Especially not since he put a time limit on
Operation Inferno.”

“Maybe I didn’t want you around because I don’t like dealing
with whiny little bitches,” Bruno snaps.

“Belle Taylor told me everything,” I spit back, whipping out
my trump card, “You tried to set Tyke Bronson up for assault. One brother goes
down, they all go down. Right? Pretty good idea. You couldn’t have anticipated
that she’d talk to me.”

“I certainly couldn’t,” he growls, his fists clenching
menacingly.

“Lucky for you,” I press on, “I’d rather get myself a slice
of whatever you’re bringing in to take those guys down than play the good cop
here.”

“Is that so?” Bruno asks, cocking an eyebrow above his
reflective aviators.

“Sure is,” I assure him, “You know how to play the game,
Bruno. I took a little stroll along your track record at the Bureau. You’ve got
this agent-for-hire thing down to a science, don’t you?”

“You digging up dirt on me, little girl?” Bruno growls, his
voice deadly.

“Just admiring your prowess,” I offer, the tremor in my legs
beginning to grow. “I want to help you, Bruno. Whoever you’re taking money from
must have enough to buy a second agent. So, who is it? From one turn coat to
another.”

“I’m not a turn coat, you little piece of shit,” he spits, color
creeping up into his neck. “I’m helping to take down two criminal organizations
here. So what if I pocket a little cash along the way?”

“You’re right,” I say quickly, “It’s not like we get paid
enough for what we do. Gotta find a way to pay those bills.”

“You making fun of me, Collins?” Bruno presses, kicking up
the dirt as he walks toward me. “That’s not a very smart move for a little girl
like you. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we seem to be all alone up here.”

“That...that’s true,” I whisper, backing up against my
Mustang, “I was hoping we could keep things friendly—”

“Were you?” Bruno laughs, looming over me. His gigantic form
casts a shadow over my gaze, and I can finally see his furious expression up
close. “I thought I made myself clear back at the field office. I warned you to
get off my fucking back, didn’t I? Didn’t I tell you what would happen if you
bothered me again?”

“You said...you’d...um...” I stutter.

“Kill you,” Bruno says, smiling sinisterly. “Did you
honestly think you could get in on my game just by asking nicely? You’re a
fucking child. This setup is all mine, little girl. I don’t need your help. I
don’t need the FBI’s blessing. I’m above the law. I bring my own justice. You
think you can scare me with your little beat-up hooker friend’s word behind
you? Please. I’ve been with the Bureau for years.
Decades
. No one’s going to believe a word you
say against me.”

“Is that so?” I say, my voice barely rising above a breath. 

A strangled cry escapes my throat as Bruno seizes me by the
front of my shirt, lifting me off the ground.

“You want me to prove it?” he roars, holding me up as I kick
my legs wildly, hoping to land a hit.

“Let me go, you so sonofabitch!” I scream, “You’ve lost your
mind—”

“Maybe,” he grins, every inch the homicidal maniac I always
feared him to be, “Guess that leaves you in a pretty sticky situation, huh?”

“Come on Bruno,” I try to reason, “just take it easy. We can
talk about—”

“I’m through talking, Collins,” he snarls, hoisting me up
another inch. He looks my body over lasciviously, and I feel my blood turn to
ice. “I’m ready for some action. I’m...”

His amped up voice trails off as his eyes alight on a slight
bulge at my hip. Bruno shoves me roughly to the ground, staring at me,
horrified, as the color drains from his face. He snaps out of his paralysis
long enough to rip the hem of my shirt out of my jeans, revealing the small,
boxy device that’s been concealed beneath my clothing. I allow a wry smile to
play across my lips as Bruno’s eyes follow the thin black wire that snakes
along my torso.

“You’re...you’re miked...” he breathes, his voice a hollow
monotone.

“That would seem to be the case, yes,” I reply, pushing
myself up from the gravelly ground, “You must be pretty fucking far gone not to
check me for a wire before confessing to your crime. Sorry,
crimes
.”

“How did you—?” he splutters, backing away from me with wide
eyes, “Are you—? What is—?”

“You didn’t leave me much of a choice, Bruno,” I say,
brushing the dirt off my hands. “I had to get a little creative. I’ve got your
whole spiel is recorded right here. Think Mitchell will throw me a parade when
I hand it over?”

“Now...wait just a minute, Quinn,” Bruno says, holding up
his hands to me. “Let’s talk about this.”

“Oh, so now it’s Quinn?” I shoot back, crossing my arms. “No
more ‘little girl’ now that you need something from me?”

“You said you wanted a cut of my action. Fine,” he says
hurriedly, “I’ll give you ten percent of what I bring in.”

“And who’s this cash coming from, huh?” I demand, “How do I
know your funds aren’t going to dry up?”

“They’re not. Trust me,” Bruno goes on, “the pockets I’m
picking here are plenty deep.”

“I need to know whose pockets we’re talking about,” I
insist, “Or else no deal.”

“Fine,” Bruno spits, losing patience, “it’s the Lorenzo
Family.”

I feel my jaw fall open as I take in Bruno’s information.
“The Lorenzo Family...is paying you off? But why?”

“Bad blood between them and the MC’s. What the fuck do I
care?” Bruno laughs shortly, “As long as the bad guys get put away and I make
some extra scratch off it—”

“You’re working for the bad guys,” I shout, losing my cool.
“The Lorenzo’s are the most dangerous crime family in Nevada. They’re a gang,
for Christ’s sake. They’re not just the bad guys, they’re the
worst
guys.”

“Bad is in the eye of the beholder,” Bruno sniffs. “So. You
get ten percent of what the Lorenzo’s are paying me to take down these MC’s, we
destroy that little tape of yours and keep on working together. As partners.
What do you say?”

I fix my eyes on Jeff Bruno’s red face. He looks desperate.
Spent. Scared out of his mind. And we’re only just getting started. As I part
my lips to speak, a faint siren begins to wail across the deserted hilltop,
underscored by that most comforting of sounds—a pack of motorcycles, roaring
toward us.

“I say...no dice,” I whisper, watching as a cloud of dust
rises up above the road in the distance, “Sorry, Bruno.”

The brutish agent freezes, his every muscle tensing as he
picks up the sound of the approaching vehicles.

“Wait...you...” he stammers.

“Called in the cavalry,” I say. “Had to, Bruno. Who knows
what you’re capable of?”

“But I thought...we were going to make a deal? Be partners?”
he says, staring at me dumbly as the engines roar ever closer.

“That ship kinda sailed when you threatened my life the
first time,” I tell him. “That tipped me off, to begin with. I knew you must
have been real deep in some serious shit if you were ready to off another
agent. Looks like I had it right. But you were correct about one thing—there
was no way the FBI was going to take my word over yours, just like that. So, I
had to give them your word. They’ve been listening in to our little
heart-to-heart. And they’re not the only ones, either.”

Bruno whips around just in time to see a pack of Harley’s
appear on the horizon. The agent spins away from them in horror, but stops
short when he spots a fleet of cop cars and FBI vans closing in from the other
direction.

“You’re surrounded, Bruno,” I tell him, “it’s over.”

“No,” he growls, through gritted teeth, “No...No...
No
—”

“What’s the matter?” I ask, cocking my head. “Afraid the
Lorenzo family won’t stand by their man? I hope for your sake they don’t have
any members in prison. I’ve heard that people get shanked in there all the
time. And I’m pretty sure that’s where you’re headed my friend.”

“Look who’s found her tongue all of a sudden.” Bruno says,
slowly turning to face me. The unhinged look in his eye sends a shiver of fear
through my body. “You think you’re tough shit now, don’t you, Collins? Took
down big bad Bruno all by yourself?”

“Stay back,” I snap, as the hulking man takes a staggering
step toward me. “Don’t do anything crazy, Bruno.”

“Oh, but I already have, haven’t I?” he replies, his eyes
bugging out hysterically, “The way I see it, I’ve got nothing left to lose...”

“Don’t touch me,” I warn him, as I back up against the
sun-warmed side of my Mustang. “Don’t you dare, or—”

“What?” Bruno laughs, spreading his arms to the encroaching
bikes and cages, “What more could you possibly do to me, girl? Not much. But I
can still do plenty of harm to that pretty little face of yours.”

“Stop—” I cry, as Bruno whips out his FBI-issued handgun.

“Why?” he asks, teeth bared in a terrifying smile, “You
gonna tell on me? Too late. Besides, last time I checked, dead girls can’t
talk—”

He raises the gun level with my head just as the swarm of
Harley’s and cop cars screech to a halt, closing us in. I shield my eyes from
the billowing cloud of dust that rises up in their wake. Before I can locate
Bruno again through the haze, I feel two beefy arms seize me, and the cool,
distinct feel of a gun pressed against my temple.

“Bruno, let go of me,” I scream, “Think about what you’re
doing—”

“Oh, I know exactly what I’m doing,” he says, pulling me
tightly against him. “If I go down, we both go down, sweetie.”

“Drop the weapon, Bruno!” I hear Agent Mitchell roar over
one of the van’s PA systems, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

As the dust begins to clear, I blink out at the ring of
bikes and cars surrounding Bruno and I. The FBI and local cops are lined up
along one side, the Wraiths and the Nine along the other. And there, right at
the head of the MC pack, is Brooks. His face is fixed in a mask of pure,
unadulterated rage.

“Get your hands off of her,” Brooks growls, his voice low
and deadly.

“Or what?” Bruno laughs, inhibition entirely fled, “I’m
already getting locked up. Fuck it.”

“We’re only taking you in for battery and accepting bribes
right now, Agent,” Mitchell says, appearing beside Brooks. “You don’t really
want us to have you for murder too, do you?”

“Doesn’t make a difference,” Bruno says, “Either way, I’m
dead the second I set foot in prison. The Lorenzos have all kinds of maniacs on
the inside, just waiting to kill themselves a rat. Why not at least get thrown
into prison for something good?”

“Agent Collins was only doing her job, Bruno,” Mitchell goes
on.

“Why are you trying to reason with him?” Brooks growls.
“He’s out of his fucking mind. Can’t you see that?”

“And what are you gonna do about it?” Bruno shouts at
Brooks. “Last time I checked, I was the one with the gun.”

For the briefest, most fleeting of moments, Brooks lets his
green eyes flick toward mine. Time slows to a crawl as we lock gazes. In that
tiny slice of time, his anguish hits me like a wrecking ball. I can’t let
myself get killed here. I can’t leave Brooks alone. Adrenaline courses thickly
through my veins, steering me straight from terror to purpose.

Keep
talking
, I mouth to Brooks. Baffled but game, he gives me the smallest
of nods.

“You’re right,” Brooks says to Bruno, forcing the ire from
his voice, “You’ve got the gun. You’re the boss.”

“Fucking right I am,” Bruno roars, pressing the piece more
firmly against my skull.

“Do you have demands?” Brooks presses, holding up a firm
hand to keep Agent Mitchell from protesting.