A Perfect Chance (19 page)

With his nostrils flaring and his jaw tight, it was clear Mace was struggling to get control of his reaction. Tears filled my eyes knowing that a man Mace trusted was responsible for Abigail's death. He may as well have pulled the trigger himself.

Needing to be closer to comfort Mace, whether he realised he needed it or not, I quickly moved and sat on his lap, throwing my arms around his shoulders and burying my face against his neck. His arms were quick to wrap around me as he pressed his head against my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, baby," I whispered. There was nothing more I could say or do, no words to make the hurt disappear or for the pain to fade.

Lifting my head, I looked into his eyes when he shifted. I placed my lips against his, hoping to let him know not only did I love him, but I was there in whatever capacity he needed me. He'd helped me so much in my own recovery, to the point I was finally functioning in society again; for that, I could only repay him with the care and understanding he'd shown me.

Jenson cleared his throat. "Do you guys need a minute?"

Not taking my eyes off Mace's, a small smile curved my lips. "No, we're good."

Mace then lifted his hand to my face and wiped a stray tear from my cheek that I hadn't realised had fallen. "Thank you, baby."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, needing to be strong for this amazing man of mine. Finally able to breathe and not feel as though I was near an emotional breakdown, I quickly kissed his forehead and jumped off his lap, returning to my seat. Despite my attempt at casual and pretending that Diesel and Jenson hadn't just witnessed my softness, I cleared my throat and said, "So what's your plan?"

My eyes landed on my brother's, and he offered me a wink. I knew this was hard for him too, especially due to his fierce need to protect me. I was also amazed that he didn't cause a stink about me being privy to the discussions. Though I was convinced that was more to do with Mace's insistence. A gentle heat wrapped around my heart at the thought.

Mace was the one who answered me. "I've called O'Leary"—I raised my brows at this news—"who's already started working on the paper trail. The more I thought about O'Leary since meeting with Nox, the more I realised there was no way he sold us out. He called about an hour ago. It seems Enfield used his wife's name, or rather her maiden name, to purchase a warehouse about forty kilometres out of town. That same building had plans submitted and approved about twelve months ago by McKenny."

I was sure my mouth dropped open in response to the connection.

Mace shook his head. "I didn't fucking see it. I've been looking into every single job McKenny had for the last couple of years at least, and I didn't fucking see it."

I understood his frustration and what nailing McKenny meant to him. "So drugs, this is all about drugs?" When Mace's dad had been released from prison last year, and after it had all gone wrong, it seemed his dad had had some dodgy dealings with McKenny and meth. Nothing would stick on McKenny though, and from what I'd learned, he'd already seemed a step ahead. "Is the warehouse a meth lab or something?"

"We're suspecting so, yes. O'Leary's chasing a warrant, but because it's Enfield, he has to go through Internal Affairs, so it may take a few days."

I looked at Diesel, noticing he'd been surprisingly quiet through everything. While he wasn't anti-cops, hell, he'd become friends with Mace while he was on the force, he'd had so many run-ins with them in the past, his trust didn't stretch very far. I know he liked to handle things in-house, but it sounded like the level of shit was far beyond that of an MC's reach. I was relieved at the thought and just hoped that the Riots were buried deep enough to be slammed too. It would make life a whole lot easier for Deadwood if that were the case.

"So what do you do between then and now?" Things had been quiet since the break-in, and I remained clueless still as to what all the photos had to do with any of this.

Diesel finally spoke, "We keep digging, but we keep low. We're going to reach out and see if we can find out a bit more about Riots and to see if they're buying direct from McKenny for distribution."

"Isn't that what the police will do?" I asked.

Quirking a brow at me, Diesel held back his scoff, barely. I knew the look well enough. "I'm sure they will, but they targeted you and Mace, so there's no way I'm walking away from this."

There was no use in arguing with Diesel, so instead, I nodded my understanding.

I'd be just so bloody relieved when all of this bullshit was over so I could finally start living the freedom I'd barely had a taste of. With still so much unknown, there was no chance that would be happening.

I stayed up for another hour before Mace nudged my half-sleeping form and led me to bed. "Come on, the guys have gone, let's get some sleep."

I yawned, allowing him to shuffle me to our room. Even in my almost comatose state, a thrill shot through me at that thought.
Ours.
It was a pretty heady feeling, knowing we'd taken our relationship to the next level. While life had its multitude of stresses, especially at that moment, I didn't want to be anywhere other than beside Mace.

We snuggled down, his strong arms wrapped around me. "You okay?" I murmured.

After pressing a kiss to the back of my head, he answered, "I will be."

I yawned, and scooted closer to him, much preferring being in his arms when I slept. "It'll all be over soon, right?"

"I'll make sure it is. I promise."

With my eyes firmly shut, I smiled and released a contented breath. It finally felt as though we were moving forward. It was a great place to be.

########

The next two days were tense and busy. The club get-together had been postponed, which I hated as it was time I couldn't spend with Janie and my attempt at normalcy, plus Mace had cancelled lunch at Jo and Liam's, which also sucked, but I understood his desire not to spread the anxiety into their lives. We spent time at home, the club, and the office, but only at the latter when Mace needed to access paper files there. He also used it as the meeting spot for O'Leary. While I wasn't involved in any of those meetings, Mace told me what he could.

Through an amazing amount of research and brains coming together, it seemed the dots were finally joining. Mace had given me the simple bare bones, which was probably a little more than he should have done, but having knowledge also helped to keep my anxiety levels down.

It seemed the big question was how Enfield got involved in the first place. There must have been a connection for years if he really was responsible for sharing with Riots the intel of the raid that killed Abigail. For him to remain under the radar, it meant he was as smart as he was lucky. I just hoped that finally his luck had run out, and that Mace could outsmart him.

The McKenny-and-Riots connection, it seemed, was less of a surprise. They'd found the link between McKenny and Enfield, and the one between Enfield and Riots. It had since become a mission to pull all three together. Internal affairs wanted the whole association to be solid, so there would be no chance of Riots and the two individuals not going down. There could be no uncertainty in the takedown.

We'd been at the office for a couple of hours, and unbelievably, I was getting cabin fever. "Cole," I called out, "can we get some fresh air?" He glanced quickly at Mace, who nodded and offered me a small smile. He was in his office talking with O'Leary and someone from IA.

"Sure thing, Lena. Do you want to walk to the café and grab a coffee?"

I nodded. There was a small café on the same road as the office. It was only a ten-minute walk, and a journey and a shop I'd visited a few times. I grabbed my credit card and phone and threw Mace a quick wave. He offered me a wink before turning his attention back to the conversation and the mountain of paperwork surrounding them. From what Mace had told me, they were getting closer and were chasing a lead on McKenny. He was the one they were struggling to pin something on. Being an architect on a building that just happened to make meth wasn't enough of a link, which I understood. They needed something concrete.

We stepped into the sunshine and I inhaled deeply, feeling lighter already. While it was wonderful for Mace to be involved in the investigation—O'Leary had pulled a heap of strings to make that happen—as I was sure he would have struggled to let go, it still filled me with unease that he was too close. Yet I knew he needed to beat this thing to truly find peace. He'd never admit as much to me, especially as I knew he loved me and was happy, but the death of someone you loved, particularly under such brutal circumstances… I didn't know if that was something you ever got over.

Instead, I could only hope for acceptance.

"You're quiet." Cole nudged me with his elbow, drawing my attention to him.

Flicking my gaze to him, I smiled and shrugged. "Just overthinking, you know."

He placed his strong arm around my shoulders and tugged me to his side. "Crazy shit going on, right?"

A laugh burst free as I spoke. "You could say that." I put my arm around his waist, appreciating the comfort. We'd known each other a long time, and Cole was definitely a calming, reassuring presence. A bit of a surprise, since he tended to cause a little mayhem wherever he went.

Finally reaching the café, we stepped inside and went about ordering drinks for everyone. The place was relatively small, yet familiar, so I was able to relax and wait while making small talk. "I'm just going to pee before we head back." Cole nodded. The restroom was a single unisex toilet, with no additional exits, and the first door to the small divide was visible from the café floor.

After peeing, I washed my hands and looked at my reflection. Tiredness etched my face, but it was nothing like Mace's. We'd eventually catch up with sleep when the stress was over. Once my hands were dry, I headed back to the main room and to the counter. I paused and looked around for Cole, confused as to why he wasn't waiting for the coffees.

Maybe they'd already arrived, and he was waiting outside with them? I walked to the counter first and asked, "Are our drinks already done?"

"Almost," the young woman answered with a smile.

"Thanks." I couldn't quite manage a smile. Assuming Cole was waiting just outside, perhaps on his phone or something, I headed out. I looked up and down the street. Not seeing him, my heart pounded loudly in my chest, gradually picking up speed. There was no way he'd have left me.

I leaned against the wall, just to the side of the café, willing myself to gain control. I also tugged out my phone and punched in my PIN. I was about to hit Call, when a voice stopped me.

"Lena?" I looked up, my eyes landing on an unfamiliar man. He was smartly dressed and smiled down at me. Nothing about this guy screamed danger, but the way his smile didn't reach his eyes had my finger hitting the Send button. I clutched my hand around the phone, holding it low at my side.

"Do I know you?" My voice was steady, not showing the leap in my anxiety.

He stood directly before me now, a healthy distance away so as not to make me even more uncomfortable. "No. I don't believe we've had the pleasure. But with a face as beautiful as yours, I'd recognise you anywhere."

I frowned, not holding back my confusion.

Taking a minuscule step forward, he leaned in a little closer. "I would imagine if you parted your lips, it would reflect you midorgasm perfectly."

I flinched, my eyes widening.
What the fuck?

He gave an indecent groan, causing goosebumps to spread over my skin and nausea to rise in my gut. "That's almost the exact look when he's fucking you. It’s enough to get a man hard just at the thought, but seeing it in person, Lena, I have to admit, my cock is throbbing for a taste."

Vomit rose, but I clenched my jaw and breathed deeply, not allowing myself to lose it. Though maybe throwing up all over this guy would be the perfect way to get him to back the fuck off. "Listen, pervert." There was no strength in my voice, which pissed me the hell off. I strengthened my resolve, forcing fierceness I didn't feel into my words. "I don't know who the fuck you are, or what you think you know, but I need you to get out of my face."

His grin wasn't what I was hoping for. "I'll tell you what, lovely Lena, you tell that prick man of yours to back off and… Cole, is it?”—I blanched—"May just return to you in one piece." A car pulled up to the side of the pavement. The guy looked over his shoulder and took a step back. "That's my ride."

No!
He had Cole? What the hell was I supposed to do in a situation like this? "Wait!" I called as he stepped towards the idling vehicle. "Where is he? Where's Cole?"

Opening the car door, he paused and stared hard at me. "I'd hate for him to miss out on spending time with those gang members he likes so much. You know, some say scum attracts scum."

I found my voice. "You'd know all about that, you fucking coward." The sounds of bike engines pulled my attention away and towards the street. I couldn't yet see him, but I knew Mace would be here any moment.

The man's face tightened before he entered the car and the vehicle sped away.

Immediately, I sank to the floor, my head almost touching my knees as my body shook. I remembered my phone and looked at it, hearing a faint noise.

"Lena, Lena?"

Lifting the phone to my ear, I sobbed, "Yeah?" It was a voice I didn't recognise.

"This is Detective Thompson. I'm working with Detective O'Leary and Mace. I saw you at the office earlier. I'm still here. Just hold tight, okay?"

I nodded into the phone.

"Lena, okay?"

"Okay," I managed to answer, just as Mace pulled up with Diesel, a car directly behind them.

"Is that them?"

"Yes."

"I'm hanging up now. You're safe."

"Okay." The phone connection ended.

Mace was before me, his helmet off as he scooped me into his arms. He shushed me as I cried into his shoulder. "C-Cole…," I sobbed.

"Shh, we know, baby. We're on it. We'll get him back, okay?"

I cried harder, my whole body trembling as he held me close. I wanted to escape, to hide, not seeing any way for this to end well. My whimpering was uncontrollable, despite my attempt to gasp in breaths, and if I didn't stop soon, I would start hyperventilating.