Chapter 6 - ASHES AND LIES
Sheriff Hodges hesitated. The calculation in his dead-coal eyes was transparent. If Thomas Vance—Blackwell’s right-hand man—was causing a public scene at the diner, ignoring it to arrest bikers on trumped-up charges would look bad, even for a town firmly in Blackwell’s pocket.
"Deputy, keep them here," Hodges barked. "I’ll handle the diner."
"No," Emily stepped forward, the fear suddenly eclipsed by a fierce, protective instinct. "That's my diner. That's my friend."
Despite the betrayal, the thought of Thomas hurting Donna with a crowbar made Emily’s stomach twist. Donna was a pawn, terrified and desperate, manipulated by Blackwell.
"You're staying put, little lady," Hodges warned, pointing a thick finger at her.
Marcus moved faster than Hodges could track. With a swift, practiced motion, he kicked the back of the Deputy’s knee, dropping the man to the floor, while simultaneously ripping the radio from Hodges’s shoulder. Dex caught Hodges in a headlock before the Sheriff could even draw a breath, squeezing just enough to silence him without breaking his neck.
"We don't have time for your politics, Hodges," Marcus growled, leaning in close. "You’re going to sleep for a few minutes."
Dex applied pressure. Hodges’s eyes rolled back, and he slumped unconscious. The deputy, scrambling on the floor, found himself staring down the barrel of three very large men. He raised his hands, terrified.
"Zip-tie them to the radiator," Marcus ordered his men. He turned to Emily. "We have to go. Now."
They rushed down the stairs and piled back into the truck. The drive to the Morning Glory Diner was a blur of mountain curves and roaring engines.
When they arrived, the scene was chaos. The front windows of the diner were shattered, glass glittering like ice across the asphalt. Inside, chairs were overturned, the pie case completely smashed.
Thomas was standing in the center of the ruin, gripping a heavy iron crowbar. Donna was on her knees by the counter, weeping, a nasty cut bleeding above her eyebrow.
"Where is it?!" Thomas screamed, raising the crowbar. "Blackwell knows she didn't have it! You were supposed to find it before they did!"
"I don't know!" Donna sobbed. "I told them about the freezer, just like you asked! I didn't know about any other papers!"
Emily burst through the broken door, Marcus right behind her.
"Stop!" Emily shouted.
Thomas whipped around, breathing heavily. When he saw Marcus and the other Angels step through the doorway, his bravado faltered. But then he smiled, a nasty, desperate grin.
"Too late, Emily," Thomas sneered. "You think you're going to take Blackwell down? With what? A bunch of washed-up bikers?"
"With this," Emily said. She reached into her dress and pulled out the manila envelope.
Thomas’s eyes locked onto it. "Give it to me."
"It's over, Thomas," Marcus stepped in front of Emily, his boots crunching on broken glass. "We have the bank records. We have your ledger. We know about Captain Miller, and we know about the convoys. You're going to federal prison."
Thomas laughed, a harsh, jagged sound. "You think Blackwell didn't plan for this? He’s liquidating the company accounts right now. He’s on a private plane at the airstrip, leaving me to clean up the mess. But if I bring him that envelope... he takes me with him."
Thomas lunged forward, swinging the heavy iron crowbar directly at Emily's head.
He never made it.
Dex tackled him from the side, a wall of pure muscle hitting Thomas like a freight train. They crashed into the red vinyl booths, splintering wood. The crowbar clattered away. Dex hauled Thomas up by the lapels of his ruined grey suit and slammed him against the wall, pinning him completely.
Emily rushed to Donna, dropping to her knees. "Donna, look at me. Are you okay?"
Donna sobbed, grabbing Emily’s hands. "I'm so sorry, Em. I'm so sorry. Blackwell... he holds the mortgage on the diner. He told me if I didn't keep an eye on you, if I didn't find out what Ryan had hidden, he'd take the diner and throw me out on the street. I was scared."
"He doesn't own you anymore," Emily said fiercely, pulling a napkin from a dispenser to press against Donna’s bleeding head.
"He owns everything!" a voice boomed from the doorway.
Emily froze. Standing in the shattered entrance was Richard Blackwell. He was impeccably dressed in a dark suit, flanked by two armed private security guards. He didn't look like a man fleeing on a private plane. He looked like a king surveying his conquered territory.
Thomas groaned from the wall. "Mr. Blackwell... I tried..."
"You're an idiot, Thomas," Blackwell said calmly. He stepped into the diner, his eyes fixing on Emily. "I never planned on fleeing. Why would I run from my own town?"
Blackwell pulled a thick, official-looking document from his coat pocket. "You have something that belongs to me, Emily. And I have something that belongs to you."
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He tossed the document onto the only unbroken table. It was a demolition order, signed by a state judge.
"I bought the land this diner sits on this morning," Blackwell smiled coldly. "The bulldozers are parked a mile down the road. You hand over that envelope right now, or I tear this building down with all of you inside it. And after I do, I’ll make sure child services meets you at the hospital when that baby is born."
