him with a pane of glass between them; she didn’t want to have to pretend like she didn’t know him and forget about him. She needed to know if they had him.
“Go,” Lance said.
“What?” Olivia said, turning back to face him.
“You obviously want to be where the action is. I got this. Go. Just don’t get in trouble.”
“You got this?” Olivia repeated, wondering when Lance ever took the opportunity to do more work.
“Look, Olivia. I’m trying. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Yeah...” she said, her voice trailing off.
“Then go. I got this.”
Olivia was grateful. She gave Lance, who finally felt like a partner for the first time, a smile, and then she turned and walked towards the chaos. She walked purposefully, like she had been ordered to walk to a certain place. Lines and lines of bikers stood along one wall, handcuffed to each other, each being processed as they were put into a police van. She searched for that clean-shaven face, his shaggy blond hair. But he was nowhere to be seen. She looked into one of the vans, but he wasn’t there. She checked the arrest list, but he wasn’t there either.
Olivia walked back to Lance, unsure what to think. David hadn’t been here. Luck had been on his side—but for how much longer? This was not going to be good. The club members were going to get mad and retaliate against the police, and it could mean a war.
Olivia spent the day under the hot baking sun, repeating: “Please move along. Nothing to see here,” so many times that the words had lost all meaning. Finally, her shift ended. Exhausted and dirty, with sand in every nook and cranny of her body and uniform, Olivia headed home. She parked her car in the building’s lot and drug herself to the elevator. She was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and she still wasn’t sure what she was going to do about David Creely. She was desperate to know where he was, but not foolish enough to go looking for him.
The elevator reached her floor, and Olivia slowly walked down the hall, turning at the corner and pulling out her keys to open the door. All of the sudden, she felt someone grab her by her hair and push her head against her still closed door.
“Hi Olivia. Remember me?” David demanded, whispering into her ear. It only took one second for her adrenaline to kick in and all the tiredness fled from her body. Olivia slammed her right foot onto David’s so hard, she heard something crack. He yelped out in pain and loosened his grip, and she elbowed him in the stomach and spun around, grabbing her gun from her jacket and pointing it at David.
He stood in front of her gasping for breath and glaring daggers into her.
“How dare you come back to my house,” Olivia hissed at him.
“How dare I?! You raided my clubhouse today; most of my brothers are in jail on bullshit charges. Was it you who told them to go after us? You the nosy cop who’s always in everybody’s business?” He spat at her.
“I’m doing my job. I made that very clear to you on several occasions,” she responded. “And I didn’t know about the raid today.”
“Bullshit!” David said. “The club is going to blame this on me, Olivia. It’s going to ruin me!”
“Then maybe you should quit the club,” she responded. Her gun was still pointed at his chest, and she tightened her grip on it.
“You were right,” he said, disdain and disgust dripping from his voice. “We never should have slept together. You know the expression, ‘You lay down with dogs, you get fleas.’ I don’t know what I should have expected from some whore cop who goes home with random men she meets at the bar. You understand nothing about loyalty and brotherhood. Don’t ever let me see you again, Olivia. Don’t ever involve yourself in my club’s business. You see something on the street, you keep driving, or I will make sure that you never see anything
“Go,” Lance said.
“What?” Olivia said, turning back to face him.
“You obviously want to be where the action is. I got this. Go. Just don’t get in trouble.”
“You got this?” Olivia repeated, wondering when Lance ever took the opportunity to do more work.
“Look, Olivia. I’m trying. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Yeah...” she said, her voice trailing off.
“Then go. I got this.”
Olivia was grateful. She gave Lance, who finally felt like a partner for the first time, a smile, and then she turned and walked towards the chaos. She walked purposefully, like she had been ordered to walk to a certain place. Lines and lines of bikers stood along one wall, handcuffed to each other, each being processed as they were put into a police van. She searched for that clean-shaven face, his shaggy blond hair. But he was nowhere to be seen. She looked into one of the vans, but he wasn’t there. She checked the arrest list, but he wasn’t there either.
Olivia walked back to Lance, unsure what to think. David hadn’t been here. Luck had been on his side—but for how much longer? This was not going to be good. The club members were going to get mad and retaliate against the police, and it could mean a war.
Olivia spent the day under the hot baking sun, repeating: “Please move along. Nothing to see here,” so many times that the words had lost all meaning. Finally, her shift ended. Exhausted and dirty, with sand in every nook and cranny of her body and uniform, Olivia headed home. She parked her car in the building’s lot and drug herself to the elevator. She was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and she still wasn’t sure what she was going to do about David Creely. She was desperate to know where he was, but not foolish enough to go looking for him.
The elevator reached her floor, and Olivia slowly walked down the hall, turning at the corner and pulling out her keys to open the door. All of the sudden, she felt someone grab her by her hair and push her head against her still closed door.
“Hi Olivia. Remember me?” David demanded, whispering into her ear. It only took one second for her adrenaline to kick in and all the tiredness fled from her body. Olivia slammed her right foot onto David’s so hard, she heard something crack. He yelped out in pain and loosened his grip, and she elbowed him in the stomach and spun around, grabbing her gun from her jacket and pointing it at David.
He stood in front of her gasping for breath and glaring daggers into her.
“How dare you come back to my house,” Olivia hissed at him.
“How dare I?! You raided my clubhouse today; most of my brothers are in jail on bullshit charges. Was it you who told them to go after us? You the nosy cop who’s always in everybody’s business?” He spat at her.
“I’m doing my job. I made that very clear to you on several occasions,” she responded. “And I didn’t know about the raid today.”
“Bullshit!” David said. “The club is going to blame this on me, Olivia. It’s going to ruin me!”
“Then maybe you should quit the club,” she responded. Her gun was still pointed at his chest, and she tightened her grip on it.
“You were right,” he said, disdain and disgust dripping from his voice. “We never should have slept together. You know the expression, ‘You lay down with dogs, you get fleas.’ I don’t know what I should have expected from some whore cop who goes home with random men she meets at the bar. You understand nothing about loyalty and brotherhood. Don’t ever let me see you again, Olivia. Don’t ever involve yourself in my club’s business. You see something on the street, you keep driving, or I will make sure that you never see anything
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