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Warlords MC: Book 2 – King (Tremaine) : Chapter 3

Two days later…

Mags got into the squad car and waited. The man was worse than a woman. He was always running on time. Never early, like her. She narrowed her eyes as she watched a car speed by. Dammit. That guy was going at least 15 over. Could she bust him? No! All because Maxy boy was doddling again.

The car door opened and all 185 pounds of brawn slid into the seat. He sipped at his to go coffee and glanced over. “What?”

She rolled her eyes and started the car.

“No, don’t tell me, speeder right?”

She shook her head and maneuvered out to the street.

“So…What did ya do on your days off?” he asked.

Mags kept her smile from showing. He always asked and she would always answer the same way.

“No, no. Let me fill it in,” he joked. “Shooting range, rock climbing and maybe—?”

“Officer Stokes,” she cut off the list.


“What I do on my off days is—”

“None of my fuckin’ business. Yes, I know.” He sipped at his coffee. “As long as you don’t—”

She raised her hand up, knowing he meant stepping out and getting in the way of that King guy again. “I haven’t and I’m not. I swear I haven’t.”

“Girls scout honor?” he asked.

Shaking her head, she laughed. “I was never a girl scout.”

“Good,” he told her. “Not about the girl scout part. Although I don’t believe you for a fucking second about that, you were at least a brownie or something. But you have to stay away from that case and let King do his job.”

Her skin flushed and felt hot. King! She mentally rolled her eyes. Never had a man infuriated her more in her life. Yes, she’d dealt with men a lot from the academy on up and yes, there were ones that came onto her, or they tried to degrade her. Not that he had, really. But that was her point. All he had to do was look at her and she wanted to—what? See that was the thing. She avoided thinking about it as much as possible. All she knew was that he must be working covertly for the government and that was all Max would agree to say. He said it was none of their business. But it still rankled. Being thrown off a case. Literally threatened by the US Government to stand aside. It hadn’t sat well with her, but she had to try to live with it.

“Hey,” Max called.

She looked over at him, then followed his gaze.

Someone was lying on the sidewalk and struggling to get up.

Mags pulled over and lifted the radio mike. “Dispatch, 112, possible 10-53, corner of Broadway and 5th.

“Copy that, 112. 10-42,” a voice over the radio answered back.

They both got out of the car and approached the sidewalk.

An older man with a bloody scrape across his forehead was grunting as he held onto a trashcan.

Mags rushed forward while Max took it slower, holding his hand on his gun and searching both sides of the street.

“Sir? Are you all right?”

The man shook his head. “I should be dead.”

She grabbed a hold of his arm, then took a look around at the street. “Who did this?”

“Big fat bastard, one them gangs.”

Mags helped him over to the steps and sat him down. She gazed up at Max.

He gave her a nod, crossed the street and peered down along the alleyway.

“Tell me what happened sir.”

The gray haired victim kept holding his head and then he held out his wallet. “They wanted this.”

Mags stared down at the brown leather. “They didn’t get it though.”

“Damn straight—they didn’t!” He winced with his own raised voice.

Mags turned her head and looked for her partner… Nowhere to be seen now.

“A large man…” the old man muttered.

Her gaze shot back over to the victim. “What?”

“A big guy—someone—helped me.”

“Helped you…How?”

The man gazed up and stared at her as if he just then realized who and what she was. “It wasn’t nothing. I fell.”

She was used to this type of reaction. Most never filed any kind of complaint and no one ratted anyone out. The only exceptions were if someone became hospitalized and talked while believing they may die from their wounds. “Well, you look like you may need a doctor.”

“Nah, my wife will fix me up.”

Just then, Max reappeared. He raised both hands at her. Meaning…nothing.

“Okay, are you sure you don’t want to file a report?’

He narrowed his eyes at her. “For what? Tripping over my own God dammed feet?”

Mags hid her smile. “Are you sure you don’t require medical—”

“No!” He stood up on wobbly legs.

Mags wanted to steady him, but saw his stern expression and took a step back instead. “Okay.” She gave Max a nod and they headed back to the car. Getting in, she radioed their 10-20 and advised of a 10-26, meaning there was no crime to report really. Then she headed the car down the boulevard. “So, that’s the third time this week.”

Max gazed out through the window. “What?”

“Don’t you see it? Him and his men are out there…”

Max chuckled. “It’s fine by me.”

“It’s dangerous is what it is.”

He stayed quiet—strange in and of itself.

“You think it’s okay that we have them here, fighting our fight?”

“It’s what they get paid to do, Mags.”

“Yeah and we are trained to do it too… protect and serve.”

“Except, we’re never there when most of it happens.”

“Officer Stokes! You can’t mean that. This is our jurisdiction.”

“Hey, listen, the whole U.S. is theirs. You just do not know…”

Shaking her head, she agreed. She did NOT know. King and his cards were here, running loose. She didn’t like it.

Just then, she spotted some kids hanging out in front of a building. They looked young and they should’ve had someone older there with them. She pulled the car up to the curb. Gang activity abounded here and she wasn’t about to allow it on her beat.

Max glanced over at her. “10-59?”

“Yes, just a plain ole security check. You can stay in if you want.” She got out and approached the boys.

They all looked to be about 12, maybe 14.

“Ooooh!” one of them called out when he saw her.

“God dammit, where do they make cops like you?” another yelled. “At the fucking Victoria Secrets Police Academy or some shit?”

The entire group laughed.

Mags was used to this reaction, it happened every day and sometimes several times a day. Most women wanted good looks, a hot bod and that kind of female power of attraction. Her? She loved being fit and that was as far as it went for her. Plus, having firepower like her favorite gun she kept at home, her magnum, it was why she allowed herself to be called Mags, a secret name that identified her with her favorite weapon. Police work was all she ever wanted to do and she could give a shit about how hot she looked. “So, what are you boys doing out here?”

The tallest one stepped back and surveyed her from her shiny shoes on up to her badge adorned chest, then he finished his leering at her face. “Well, if it isn’t Miss Hot Cop!”

Mags stepped closer. “I asked you a question.”

“We’re waiting!” one of the smallest boys blurted out.

A taller one smacked him upside the head. “Dumbass. You don’t talk to a Pig! No matter how pretty she is.” He motioned to the others. “Come on, we are all going home to mommy.” He looked her up and down then turned away.

The younger boys followed.

“Hey, G!” Max yelled from the car.

She squared her shoulders, walked back to the vehicle, and got in. “I just hate it. They are going to be the next sellers of that drug, Max.”

He seemed distracted while looking down at his paperwork. “Yeah, but don’t worry. It will all be gone soon.”

Shaking her head, she pulled out into traffic. “You sound so dammed sure.”

Max never looked up. “I have reason to know. When King goes after someone or something…” he paused and finally looked at her. “…He gets it.””

“Mmph.” She scoffed. “Well, I’m not impressed. I’m gonna take Overhill and then double back.” Yet, she was impressed, deep down. The minute she saw that man. Tall, dark and handsome didn’t even fit him well enough as a description. Like maybe tough, steel like and gorgeous would be better. Yet… she hated his guts. “Mmph!” she let out again as she drove.

Max chuckled under his breath but did not say a word.

Hours later at the diner on fifth, they went over the event forms for the day. They did this as routine when they could. The station was next door and all they had to do was drop the paperwork off and check off shift.

Passing the form for him to sign, she gave him a pointed look. “Come on. We are partners, Max. You need to spill about King or whoever the hell he is.”

He grabbed it and grunted. “He’s what we call a lifer. Been in since he came outta high school. His brothers are the same way. Worked his way up the ranks the hard way. He’s tough. Yeah, he’s got swagger but that’s just because he earned that shit.”

She rifled through form 6 and 7. “You served with him, right?”

“Yeah, two tours… then he joined his brothers after that. They were all a special unit, as we would say.” He gazed up at her.

Mags studied his intense expression. In the almost 2 years she served with him, she’d never seen him this serious or concerned about anything. “So? What? He’s your hero or something?”

Max’s fingers wrapped around his coffee mug. Clenched might have been a better word. “Not just mine.” His voice fell low.

Mags stared at him, hinting to continue.

“He’s a sniper. The best.” He looked into her eyes. “Not the kind you think though.”

She shrugged. “What kinds are there?”

“This man would protect the convoys.”


“His job entailed getting in ahead of time. Into the deadliest areas of the route…alone.”

Mags sat forward with interest.

“Most times, it would be in the dead of night. Night vision his only sights. Like a ghost, or some ninja shit. In, he would go and the place would literally swallow him up. He would then somehow, make it to the most potential spot, where we might get hit. He would do whatever was necessary to hold his nest.” Max raised a brow at her.

“Go on.” Mags’ pulse tapped up a notch or two as she envisioned him, specter like while slipping through the night, almost invisible.

“He would wait, perhaps a whole day even, for the convoy. Watching every person, entry, exit and every print in the sand. When the time came? He already knew their positions of ambush. He would wait to pick them off.”

“Why? Why not just get it done early and make it clear for you all?”

Her partner shook his head. “Nope. Bad move. You see, the enemy always has someone of their own looking for someone just like King. He can’t give way his spot too far ahead of time. He also has to time it so that while we pass, they are too busy to launch an attack at us. Only the best of shooters can take ‘em down that way and that fast.”

She nodded and clasped her hands together. “So, killing is second nature to him.”

“No, not at all.”

Her eyes shot up to his sparkling blue gaze.

“He would incapacitate mostly. He detests killing.”

Mags laughed. “A sniper who detests killing?”

“Mm-hmm, don’t get me wrong, he has killed. But only if there was no other way.”

Mags felt a shiver. Her understanding of the man became clearer.

“He’s saved untold lives of soldiers and civilians. He’s been tapped many times for the worst and deadliest assignments. And he’s so good? He can even turn them down if he so chooses.”

“In the military?” she scoffed.

He slowly nodded his head. “Having him up there? Was like—like having a deadly angel to watch over you.”

“Mmph. Well, he didn’t look like an angel. He looked… She wasn’t going there.

Max’s voice faded into the distance, while Mags stared at the street outside, she wondered what she should do about this dilemma she never thought she’d be faced with. Being thrown off a case by this King. A case that she had been secretly trying to solve for a long time.

Then as if her thoughts conjured him up, King came from around the corner and strode along the sidewalk. His walk looked sure and his strides were graced with self confidence. His bike was parked up by the police department, next to the diner in fact.

As if he knew someone watched him, he paused and looked around then he smoothly mounted the cycle. He inserted the key into the ignition of the beast of a bike. He was really playing the part of an MC member all right. The bike, the leather, the boots and the tatts.

Mags blinked rapidly while staring at him. This man had really gotten her riled. His gaze had just moved into her. She’d never had a reaction to any man like she had with him in that office. He would be the kind that could storm her gates. So, it was lucky that she probably wouldn’t see him again, after he left here.

Unexpectedly, his gaze jerked up and he stared directly across the street, into the diner through the window, locking right onto her sitting in the booth as if he knew she was right there.

Mags stiffened as she felt those eyes on her while she sat with her heart pounding so loud in her ears that she never even heard her partner’s actual words.

King gave her his attention for a full, long mesmerizing minute, then he kicked his stand and took off.

“Mags?” Max called to her.

She shook her head to get herself back to reality. Back from where? Inside of him, in his psyche? She swallowed heavily as she vigorously rubbed the goose bumps from her arms and looked across the table at her confused looking partner. “Unh?”

“I said stay off the case. I mean it. I promised him you would. You do not want to go into his custody.”

Mags paused as she grabbed up her coffee mug. In King’s Custody? Her body flushed all over at the thought. A girl could only get so lucky. She smirked from behind her coffee cup.

The Fifty-50 Bar & Grill was the local cop bar. Yeah, there were public defenders, clerks, court reporters and even the meter maid division came once in a while but mainly, it was visited by beat cops of all ranks.

Mags came every Saturday, but she liked to play darts and maybe a round of pool. If the male clientele left her alone long enough. Most of the regulars knew about her rule of lay off as they’d already learned a year ago the hard way that she wasn’t here to date or find someone. She liked to have a few beers and maybe hang with some of the older cops who didn’t leer at her every five seconds.

Tonight, at least Max had other plans. He would be all up on her some of the time they spent here. Not that she disliked him or thought he wasn’t hot. In fact, he was more than easy to look at. The problem was the job. The man was funny, smart and he liked most of the same stuff she did. He was probably very skilled in lots of things too…She paused as her mind wandered there. No instead of Max, she was lately seeing another face. Hazel eyes, dark hair, shoulders wide enough to…

Shaking away those thoughts, she saw it was her turn and stepped up to throw her shot.

Mags was well aware of the rumors and gossip about her and her partner sleeping together. She even knew about the betting pool. It didn’t faze her. Men will be men and if they felt like losing money on her? Fine. She grinned. They all stood to lose, those who betted on Max anyway. Tossing the dart and hitting exact center…A bunch of groans could be heard from several seats. Her wicked grin grew. They’d better get used to continuously losing money on her. She hit the target with the rest of her darts and more male groans sounded through the bar.

Always underestimate the babe. If she had huge boobs and a round ass? She would be easy to roll over, manipulate and fool. She would be attracted to things like shopping in malls, getting her hair and nails done. Flowers and expensive jewelry. Well, fuck that! I would like it better it if you bought me a kickass gun…Or an all out thrilling trip down the rapids or tickets to the monster truck show.

Raised by her cop dad, she grew up as more than a tomboy and could be described as master of the tomboys. Early on, she wasn’t too pretty neither. Long and gangly, knobby knees and her teeth weren’t straight and perfect. Plain might have been the exact word one of her fat aunts had used once or twice. She’d been bullied a lot in elementary school. She kept those bad memories locked away though. It was the old Magdalena, the mild, shy girl who was stepped on every day.

Next came high school, Freshmen year. It seemed like she bloomed overnight. Braces from the 7th grade had already been long removed. Her often troublesome hair grew long, lustrous and silky looking. Her face even rounded like a cherub and became filled out from being so thin as a child. Finally, the very worst thing happened—she got boobs, very large ones.

Mags felt resentful of it all immediately. It got in her way, these looks she suddenly possessed. All the guys stared at her coming and going. They never looked her in the eyes or just at her face. Only her tits and ass. Then the chicks would glare at her, hence she had no real girl friends at all, except for Vikki, who was even more beautiful than mags was, if the truth be told. Any other girls who were nice to her, she would find out later how they only pretended to be her friend, so they could get to some boy who’d been drooling after her.

At sixteen tragedy struck when her dad was killed. No one ever found the killer, and they chalked it up to a bad stakeout. It hit her hard and that was when she decided to become a cop. Before it had happened, she hadn’t consider it. The young teen Magdalena soon withdrew from anything social and studied her heart out. She became focused in order to forget the pain of losing her dad. Her mom died when she was young and she barely remembered her.

Four point zero Grade average after that every year and she tested so high, she skipped ahead two grades. It was fine with her to get that stretch of idiot antics by teens over with as soon as possible.

Then came college. What a freaking farce. Parties, sex, drugs even. She wanted no part of that and since she lived in a dorm, the annoyance of others trying to include her became more than frustrating. She soon earned the labels of, Mag the Bag or Saint Magdalena. Thought of as rude and stuck up. She’d dated like two whole guys and it was just to see what all the fuss was about.

Fuss was soon to be found as boring and again…stupid games in dating. Once, she even beat a guy up when he tried to force her to sex. Broke his nose and his poor fragile ego. What a time waster. Yeah, all her life she’d been labeled as a crabby, stick in the mud ice queen. She never cared though, she had goals and became driven to achieve them.

Later on, while training at the Academy, she did date a few men and you could say she experienced a little bit of fun. Though, no one ever caught her interest. She sometimes wondered if she’d been born without a sexual drive. It bothered her a little and most times, when a good looking or just plain interesting guy asked her out nicely…She would accept and the main reason would be—to find out if her fire could be lit.

Sad to say, she never found the right fire starter. Hence, she figured it was her having just no sex drive at all. She’d now learned to accept it. Probably frigid. Too funny really, what irony life will throw at you. If she’d wanted an acting career or modeling? It would’ve been a lock with her looks and height, but with what she wanted out of life what good did they do her? Hold her back from being taken seriously and that was all. She even refused to wear makeup, she only buffed her nails or wore clear polish.

Winning the dart game, she turned and grabbed her beer.

There he sat on a stool across the bar.


She tried to look around a particularly big shouldered cop to see him better. The view finally cleared while she stood and stared at his broad back as he sat at the bar. Mags felt excited… then it hit her. He was spying on her! The fucker just couldn’t believe that she really had dropped the Gauntlet case.

He didn’t look her way though, he just sat quietly drinking his beer.

She noted he did not wear his cut. No, just a black t-shirt that stretched across a wide pair of shoulders and black jeans. Her gaze lowered to see he did still wear the biker boots though. So, he thought to blend in here, did he? She was feeling too many things at once… Exhilaration, annoyance, anger and a hot flushing. She took a moment to gain control.

She bit at her lower lip. Suddenly wondering what to do. Confront the asshole and find out what he was up to… Or—

Abruptly, he swiveled his stool.

Mags held her breath and the grip on her beer glass tightened.

His hazel eyes scanned the room with an almost trained to spot anything dangerous look to them. Like cops on duty have or the Secret Service agents she’d observed before. Slowly and gradually, they swung over the crowded bar and then they stopped—on her.

Mags’ belly muscles tightened. She felt like her nerves just drew taught as a bowstring and were ready to spike some kind of piercing arrow.

His intense eyes met hers for like thirty tense seconds and then he easily swung his gaze past her to the rest of the bar. Next, he turned back around to face the bartender again.

He just—just—ignored me? She felt like she’d been slapped in the face. Mags knew her cheeks probably flamed too. Never in all her days had any man simply taken a half assed glance at her and moved on. She gazed down at her police gray t shirt and ratty jeans. Her clothes maybe? Her gaze swung up to the bar again.

The stool sat empty.

Her eyes spanned all around with an almost desperate search. No King. Gone, like he was never there. And before I could cuss him out too! The S.O.B! She clenched her fingers tightly around the glass again. He had been following her, then as soon as she spotted him, he lit out? What kind of game was this guy playing?

“Hey, Officer G!” one of the guys called out.

Jumpy now, she flipped around.

Tinnes from vice raised his darts. “Wanna play another?”

Distracted, Mags shook her head. She picked up her leather jacket and made her way out. She couldn’t think about anything on the way home except for those eyes. They’d looked at her face only, too. Not like all the others she’d known, dropping immediately to her chest and perhaps lower to her legs. No, he’d studied her eyes and face, then moved on as if nothing held his interest there. Not interested? Again, she felt flabbergasted. Well, he had treated her with mockery and distain at the station. He may really not be interested. Game player though. He did follow her here…it had to be.

By the time she got to her apartment, she felt foolish. Unlocking her door, she wanted to kick herself. Yeah, maybe you are stuck up and think you’re all that! Just taking it all for granted, like you could have any guy in the bar or the neighborhood or the world? Stupid female! She felt determined to erase the entire event from her usually very steady logical brain.

Yeah well, it might have been easier to do if he wasn’t so fucking memorable himself. Just built to perfection and those eyes! That dark hair all silky looking and just enough of a slight goatee to make him rough looking. She made her way to the bathroom and turned on the water for her shower.

Now that she was remembering details, she’d stared at his hands when they met before and felt caught by the way his fingers looked. Fingers? Shaking her hair out of the ponytail holder, she made a tisking noise under her breath. Yeah…She stared into her bathroom mirror. Long, strong fingers…What would they feel like? To have those eyes burning at me while those fingers moved along my skin?

Again, she caught herself imagining him and shrugged out of her blouse. Next, she tugged her jeans off and rolled down her lace underwear. Gasping, Mags halted. Her underwear were—wet? She removed them and looked closely. Her eyes rounding. No way! Her hands shook as she glanced over to the mirror again. She tugged off her bar and moved closer. Her cheeks were pink and her gaze moved lower. Her nipples were erect and hard as rose-colored diamonds.

I have the hots for King? No way! He infuriates me. He is too chauvinistic and domineering But now just thinking about him makes me wet? “What the fuck?” she yelled in disgust and threw her clothes at the mirror.


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