Dark Guardian (Black Hoods MC #3) - Avelyn Paige Page 0,29

shooting the shit. I’m not one to share my entire life’s story, and I’m thankful he isn’t, either. We talk about motorcycles and women, and our favorite BBQ joints to grab a decent steak.

And that’s when Officer Fuckface opens the door to our cozy little getaway. “Come on, Grant. We have some questions for you.”

I glower at him as he cuffs me. Fucking pussy.

He leads me down a long hall and through a couple of different bullet-proof doors before finally turning into a room with one-way glass and a table in the middle. Grace is already seated at the table with her briefcase at her side.

She stands as I enter, and I can’t help but notice the stray strands of hair that have escaped that tightly wound bun on top of her head. It looks wild and unkempt. It looks sexy as hell.

Fuckface shoves me down into a hard metal chair across from her and leans his ass against the table.

“What do you know about Randall McDade?” This fucker is clueless. Aren’t they trained at some school for tight-asses to form a false friendship with their suspects? Since when do they cut right to the chase?

I feign ignorance. “Who?”

He leans in closer. “Randall McDade. He was the legal guardian of those kids. But lo-and-behold, he’s missing.”

“Aaron,” Grace chides from behind him, but he ignores her.

“How did you get involved in this, Grant? How did you come into possession of two teenage kids with a dead addict for a mother, and an uncle who’s suddenly MIA?”

I glare at him, but I don’t answer.

“Aaron, let me talk to him.”

Fuckface’s jaw hardens, but he doesn’t look her way. Instead, he attempts to stare holes into my head with his eyeballs. But, since that’s not possible, he basically just sits there, looking like an asshole.

“Where’s my lawyer?”

“On his way,” Grace answers, having to lean around Aaron for me to see her face. “Your buddy… what’s his name? Mom? He said to let you know he called the lawyer, and he’s on his way.”

I watch her, surprised she told me that at all, considering the situation at the moment.

“I want to talk to Miss Halfpenny, alone,” I tell Officer Douchebag.

“Over my dead body, Grant. This is an investigation.”

“Into what?” I growl. “I don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about. You showed up on club property, threatening to shoot us all, and not once did you explain yourself. So, tell me, Nipple Dick, what the fuck are you investigating?”

His nostrils flare. “We have a report of a missing person, and we believe you know something about that.”

“Are you charging me with something?”

He’s got nothing, and he fucking knows it.

“I want to talk to Miss Halfpenny,” I repeat.

Officer Cockstroker leans in real close, his nose nearly touching mine. “Not happening.”

I roll my eyes. I could snap this asshole like a twig if I weren’t in handcuffs. “Nice little pet ya got here, Halfpenny. Do you get him to arrest all loving parents that care for the kids you’re looking into?”

Grace blinks, her pouty lips parting in surprise.

“I don’t,” she says after a moment, and then pushes a paper toward me to read. “I’ve been in contact with a man who claims to be Natalie and Kevin’s biological father. A paternity test needs to be done to confirm, but if he is who he says he is, those children cannot stay with you, Mr. Grant.”

She may as well have sucker punched me right in the heart. “Father? But they don’t have a father.”

She shrugs, looking almost apologetic. “I’m looking into it, but you aren’t making it easy for me to do my job.”

“Fuck your job,” I snap. “Your job is to take those kids out of a happy home and stuff ’em in with some stranger they don’t even know.”

“Not a stranger,” she clarifies. “Their father.”

“He’s a fucking stranger to them. They don’t even know his damn name.”

Grace purses her lips, and for the first time, I think I see her waver. She does everything so by the book, always carrying herself with an air of professionalism rarely seen nowadays, but her demeanor is slipping. She looks unsure.

There’s a knock at the door before it cracks open. “Mr. Grant’s lawyer is here,” the officer announces.

Fuckface sighs, but my eyes remain locked with Grace’s. “Let him in.”

Walking into the room, Earl Jenkins informs Grace and Fuckface, “I’ll need thirty minutes with my client.” God love Earl. He’s been the lawyer for this club for years now, always