Reign (Sin City Outlaws #1)(28)

“5Paul69, I'm at the disturbance call, if you’ll move me.”

“Affirmative.”

I get out and secure my car, drawing my weapon, before heading toward the front door. Glancing in the cab of the truck, I check around the corner to make sure nobody is around. Never know if someone's hiding, and I have to be prepared. Stepping up to the front door, it’s barely hanging on by the hinges. Shit!

I hit the door with my boot, and it slowly opens. Taking a deep breath, I swing around the door frame, weapon aimed.

“Sheriff’s department!”

It’s quiet, and I see no one. Stepping in a little further, I look around the house, but I don’t find anyone.

“Well shit,” I mutter, my feet coming to a rest. Noticing my stance is off-level, I look down, finding the carpet ripped up, like someone recently cut it out. Little strings and frays of carpet are everywhere.

Hunching down, I inspect it, looking at what could have possibly been there. Did it happen at the party and they took it out? Or did the Sin City Outlaws return for payback, and this is them removing evidence?

“5Paul69, situation is stable,” I inform.

“5Paul69, affirmative.”

Bikes, the lady said she saw some bikes. Racing out of the house, I get back in the cruiser and drive the opposite way I came in.

My heart is racing, and my hands grip the steering wheel tightly. Driving the same road for ten minutes, I begin to call defeat when I spot a couple motorcycles in the distance.

“Holy shit,” I mutter, butterflies swimming in my stomach.

“Should I do this?” I murmur to myself. A part of me wants to turn the other way and say I saw nothing, and that has me disturbed. Why would a morsel of my soul want to do that? Digging deep, I know why, though. It's because no matter how I try to play it, Zeek got to me.

“You’re a sheriff. Get it together!” I scold myself. Zeek is the enemy, and I’ve already betrayed my department by yearning after him. I need to do this, even if it’s to prove to myself that I’m not a traitor. To remind myself that Zeek is an outlaw.

Turning my lights on, I race forward, determined to push out my second-guessing and show the whole department I am not some little girl. Some rookie who's insufficient at doing her job. No, no more petty crimes for me; if I can take down an Outlaw successfully, everyone at the department will stop looking at me like Daddy's little girl. The bikes brake lights all shine, and they pull over to the shoulder.

“5Paul69, making a traffic stop,” I inform, getting out of the car.

The men on the bikes turn off their engines and drop their kickstands. My hand on my weapon, I pass them all, heading right to the culprit.

“Zeek,” I greet. His bike is a metallic black, with leather whips hanging from the handle bars. They call them GetBack whips. They are usually braided with club colors and are used in case of emergency. Meaning, if they’re in a tight spot and don’t have anything else to use as a weapon, they use the leather whip. Nervous, I clear my throat, taking my focus off the whips and back on Zeek.

He takes his helmet off, his hair shifting in his face as his eyes slowly find mine. My courage and bravery flee, my lips aching to taste him again. He looks like a beast straddling his motorcycle.

“Rookie.” He smiles. My eyes sweep his frame on their own accord. His ripped jeans, gripping his muscular legs. His strong torso and bulging arms etched with beautiful ink. “What can I do for you?” he asks, my eyes darting to his face. A face that is defined with strength, his chin strong with stubble.

“Um... uh...” I stumble, my train of thought and mission disappearing. The men behind me start laughing, angering me, reminding me of everyone at the department laughing at me.

“Where are you coming from?” I snap.

His brows furrow with my tone, and his jaw ticks.

“Why?”

“You go visit the Gentrys?” I cut to the point.

His lips form into a smile, one that is sexy and evil.

“Yeah, but nobody was home. So, we left.” He shrugs, and a spot of blood on his neck catches my attention. It looks fresh.

“Got a call of a disturbance there, you know anything about that?” I continue, trying to read him for lies.

He stands from his bike, and my heart falls. He towers above me, casting a shadow over me, blocking the hot sun. It’s fitting, really. Zeek is the darkness, one that hides the light, shadowing over the land of Vegas. He emits cold and strength, giving fear to those who he reigns over.

“Please sit back down, Zeek,” I commence, my voice cracking.

“I think I know what this is all about.” He tilts his head to the side arrogantly.

“What is that?” My tone of authority is gone, curiosity reigning supreme.

He leans in and my body stiffens, my hand gripping my weapon.

“If you wanted another kiss, you didn’t have to come pull me over, babe.” My cheeks flush as his lips brush against my ear. My eyes flick to his men, the looks on their faces not giving away that they can hear him.

My breathing begins to hitch, my eyelids growing heavy with the way he affects me.

Snapping myself from whatever the hell this is, I reach forward and grab his hand, turning his body away from me, surprising everyone, including myself.

“You’re under arrest,” I inform him.