Chapter Thirty Brigit

CHAPTER THIRTY: brIGIT

Wildcard swings to glare at me. Although the heat in his eyes is more fear than anger.

"Absolutely not. You're not bait. He'll kill you if he sees you."

"Not if we plan it and stack the deck in our favor," Trouble says. He puts his hands up to stop Wildcard from spewing. "I get it. I do. If it were Corinne, I'd be plotting my death just like you are. But, let's discuss our options. This is the perfect place to trap him into making a confession. The only person he'll let his guard down with is the person who knows the truth. Brigit."

"He'll kill her as soon as he sees her," Wildcard says again, gritting his teeth.

"Not if he thinks he has the upper hand."

Trouble lays out a plan that has me equal parts terrified and confident. But as Trouble explains, my confidence grows. I know Wildcard will protect me, but I trust the others just as much. Viper and Chill have a specific role to play in Trouble's plan. Which involves shopping. They drag me along with them to a fashion mall inside the casino. While we shop, Trouble keeps Misha occupied.

I stay in the dressing room while Viper runs back and forth until she finds an outfit for me that meets with her approval. She selects a dress of deep emerald with long sleeves and a long flowing skirt with a slit in the side. The loose material conceals the knife Chill straps to my leg. While the slit gives me easy access. I'm not proficient with knives or any weapons, but Chill and Wildcard both want me armed. The shoes have stilettos that Viper assures me hurt like a bitch if I dig them into a foot or a leg. The last stop is the spa, where beauty consultants apply makeup to make my transformation complete.

By the time they've finished with me, Viper and Chill are ready. They're both wearing form fitting gowns that enhance their assets. Viper, a former showgirl, stands over six feet in high-heeled boots that add several inches. She's wearing a bright red dress that clings to her curves. Chill's dress is a dark blue that wraps around her trim form and ends mid-thigh. Her long legs are muscular and toned. They're both stunningly beautiful women. Trouble's plan relies on their stunning good looks and my looking the part I'm about to play.

Chill and Viper flank me as we pass through the casino and through to the conference rooms. Each room has a name tied to famous biker events or routes. We find Trouble waiting for us outside Route 66. When we reach him, he puts his hands on my shoulders and leans over to stare into my eyes. "You doing okay? You can still say no if you want to back out."

I shake my head. "No, this is a good plan. I trust you. All of you. I need to get out from under this murder charge and get on with my life."

"Good girl," Trouble says with a grin. "You remember what we discussed? Just play your part and we'll do the rest."

I nod and take a deep breath.

Trouble wraps his hand around my right bicep just as he opens the door. He drags me into the room behind him, Chill and Viper right behind us. They move to either side as I glance around the room. I'm supposed to fake fear, but seeing Misha and his two goons makes acting unnecessary. When none of the men makes a move to draw their weapons, I relax into the role I need to play.

"Who the fuck are they?" Misha snaps.

Trouble shrugs. "My girls. Don't mind them. They're happy little sluts, aren't you?"

Chill purrs and slides her hand up Trouble's chest. "Yes, daddy, you make me feel so good."

"Drugged?" Misha asks. I see him eyeing Viper with a hunger that makes my stomach roil.

"They like their candy. Keeps them pliant, if you know what I mean? Want a taste?" Trouble releases my arm to push Chill and Viper forward so they're between them and me.

"Maybe later. We have other business to discuss." He nods at me, which I take as my cue.

"What are you doing? You said you'd protect me!" I shout at Trouble, pounding my fist against his chest. He grabs my hand and turns me so I'm trapped in his arms. "Is this her?" Trouble asks Misha, who grins back.

"Yep, that's the bitch. Thanks for handing her over. See, you gave her a few smacks. I'll take her off your hands."

"Please don't," I beg. "You don't know what he is."

"I fucking know who he is. You're a bitch who lied to us. Thought you were hiding from your husband, not the fucking Bratva. No fucking way we want to tangle with them. You put us at risk."

"But he killed a cop. You'll be accessories to a cop's murder if you let him take me," I plead.

Misha laughs. "I didn't kill a fucking cop. Mike did that. He killed George, too. I killed Mike. Took out a cop killer. They should make me a fucking hero."

The room erupts with noise. Shouts, crashes, and fists hitting flesh reverberate around me. I can't see anything, because Trouble pushed me to floor and covered me with his body. I tremble under Trouble's bulk until he moves and helps me stand. A set of familiar arms encircle me as Wildcard crushes me to his chest. He kisses the top of my head, my temple, and my cheek before finding my mouth. We both find peace in the kiss.

Breaking away, I glance around the room and see the aftermath. Viper and Chill are each sitting on one of Misha's goons. The two men are unconscious as they fasten zip ties around their wrists. Rafe stands over them with his gun drawn.

Misha is on the floor, glaring at me with hatred. The man fastening handcuffs on his wrists is Detective Sully. I glance at Wildcard in question.

"Turns out we misread Detective Sully's motivation. He wasn't working for Misha. By putting you up as the primary suspect, he hoped to find you and get you into protective custody. He wanted to find you before Misha did."

"The cop Mike murdered was the son of my old partner," Sully says, yanking Misha to his feet. "He was working on a case against Misha with George. When George didn't return his call, Harry went looking for him. He should have called for backup, but he didn't want to blow his cover. Guess Mike killed them both."

"Do you have enough to convict Misha?" I ask.

Sully nods. "Should. We have plenty of evidence. Including the video feed from the hotel showing Misha and these guys leaving Mike's office. Plus, we have evidence Harry gathered before Mike killed him. His confession today seals it. You might have to testify, though."

I nod in resignation. I don't want to go back to Boston and testify, but I will if it means putting Misha in jail.

"You're a brave woman. Sorry, if I caused you distress by hunting you. Knew this asshole would try to find you and I didn't know how well you hid."

His comment reminds me of something. "My friend Abby. Did Misha find her?"

"No, I did. She's safe. Made sure of it before I came out here. Found her standing in her living room, pissed as hell because these assholes made a mess searching it. She pulled a gun on me." Sully chuckles. "Hell of a woman."

I smirk at the bemused look on the Detective's face. Abby is a hell of a woman. "She is. Can you have her call me?"

"Will do. As soon as I get back to Boston with these bastards."

"How are you getting back? You aren't taking them alone, are you?"

"Nah. Got help from the feds. They should be here soon. I called them and told them about the plan as soon as Rafe filled me in. Haven't ever teamed up with bikers before. You guys put on one hell of a show. Had me fooled. It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Brooks." Sully sticks his hand out to Puma, who has joined us.

"Puma. Don't really answer to Brooks any longer. Thanks for taking the filth out of our city. If you ever need help, just call. We have a Chapter in Boston. Havoc is the President. He's a good friend to have."

"I'll look him up." Sully and Rafe lead the prisoners out of the room. Viper and Chill following close to provide backup.

I lean against Wildcard. "Is it finally over?"

"This situation? Yeah," Puma says. "We still have the problem with Walt Turner to deal with. Hear you're our new HR Manager. Welcome. We are very grateful, especially Chill. She was a disaster in that role."

"Probably shouldn't have made her do it, huh?" I tease Puma, who barks out a laugh.

"No, I shouldn't have. I've made mistakes. That was one of the worst. But I'm making up for it later. We're having a big party later. Lots to celebrate."