“Right. I just needed to ask a coupla questions.” This dude’s southern drawl is the epitome of stereotypical.
“Shoot!” Fuck, fuck, fuck. Hopefully, I’m as good at lying as Parker.
“We got a call sayin’ y’all witnessed some kind of sexual assault or somethin’?” Before he even finishes his sentence, I’ve got an answer ready for him. No need to lie about that, we had our cuts on but that doesn’t mean they know about anything else.
“Yeah, I walked her to her car. Made sure she was okay to drive and told her to call the police.”
“Oh, yeah. Good, good. Did you catch her name?” Fuck.
“Slatvania.” Jayzus fecking…why do I do this?
“Slat-what now?”
I have to double down or else he’ll get nosy and no one wants that.
“I think she said something like Slatvania? I don’t know, we didn’t exactly exchange digits.” That part’s true.
“A’ight then. If you remember anything, let us know, ya hear? We don’t want no predator walking the streets around here.”
I nod in agreement. That would be bad. I wonder if he’d appreciate the fact that one less predator is, indeed, walking the streets?
I keep that tidbit to myself, of course.
“Yes, sir. We’ll keep ya posted.”
Deputy Jones tips his hat, looking over at Boner and giving him a short nod. “Y’all stay safe. Ain’t nothing worse than making those late-night calls.”
Truth to that.
Jones walks away and I take my time putting my helmet back on. As soon as the patrol car passes by, we make a U-turn and head back to the compound.
Time to figure out how I can get Parker to scream my name in British.
Chapter Five
Spencer
“Do you think we put enough raisins in it?” Mac eyes the dessert we’ve prepared for Sledge’s birthday party this evening as she softly bounces Gryffin on her hip.
“It looks like the picture, so, yeah? Gotta say, though, it’s the funniest spotted dick I’ve ever seen.” Laughing, I begin wrapping the huge slab of dessert, preparing it for transportation. The scent of freshly baked cake will never get old in this kitchen.
My gran would bake every day of the week when she was alive, filling the house with delicious warm smells and insisting I take some to school for my friends. I continue the tradition by bringing something freshly baked into the station once a week. My sweet potato pie is a firm favorite.
“Shh. I told you, it’s spotted eek.” Widening her eyes, Mac motions toward Gryffin, as if that’s all she needs to say on the matter.
“Babe. I love you, but that kid’s first word is probably gonna be fuck.”
She glares at me with a huff. “I wish you were wrong.”
“You never know, he might surprise us with an Uncle Spencer.” I bend down to Gryffin’s level on Mac’s hip. “Hey, bud, can you say Uncle Spencer? Or just favorite uncle? No?”
Gryffin giggles and grabs for my nose, but before a game of where has my nose gone ensues, we have a biker’s surprise birthday party to go to. It would have been easier to bake in the kitchen at their compound, but with the Sons in and out of the place all day, Sledge’s surprise cake wouldn’t have stayed secret for long. Mac said she did some digging and Sabrina, who feeds all of the brothers and mothers the women that seem to live there permanently, is certain that spotted dick is his favorite.
“How long do we have?” I check my watch, realizing I have zero idea what time this whole thing is kicking off. Pepper must sense that I’m heading out because she has managed to climb down from her cat tree and is trailing around my ankles.
Clipping Gryffin into his car seat, Mac hums around the cherry lollipop now in her mouth. “About an hour.”
I grab some cooked chicken from the refrigerator and mix it in with some cat food, placing it on the floor for Pepper.