When I had it, I flicked my chin toward the bay door that was swinging in the wind, and Cakes got off his bike in understanding.
He walked up to Moran and said something to her that caused her to narrow her eyes.
She stubbornly refused to move, though.
Cakes decided that it might be worth it to bump her out of the way with the door and went ahead and started closing the large bay door despite her being in the way.
Moran refused to move until the door hit her straight in the face—though the swinging of the door with more force was due to the wind catching it and not Cakes pushing it.
That door was dangerous.
I refused to let Eedie or my mom close it because it liked to walk out of your hands and fuck you up when you least expected it.
This time, I was happy that it had a mind of its own.
Moran stumbled back out of the way just far enough to allow Cakes to close the door.
He had the lock on the door as well as my cell phone picked up before she could stand up straight, blood pouring down her nose.
FBI agent number one and agent Shane got into the car and exchanged a look.
“This is a complete cluster…” Shane muttered under his breath so quietly that I could barely pick it up.
FBI agent number two, however, had a much deeper voice, allowing me to hear what they were whispering about.
“Complete and total fucking clusterfuck,” number two said. “Can’t believe she got her dad involved, and Moran fucking went with it.”
Ahh, so that made a little bit more sense.
“He wrote that kid off a long time ago,” Shane mumbled. “This doesn’t make any sense.”
“It does if you want to get a name for yourself taking down a motorcycle club president,” I murmured, letting them know I could hear everything they were saying.
Both men’s mouths snapped shut so fast that it was comical.
“And Moran’s been let go from the Kilgore Police Department. Everything that she’s doing is just digging her hole deeper,” I mused. “You would be wise to not involve yourselves.”
Neither man said another word.
However, they did look uncomfortable as they took me to the FBI field offices in Dallas.
Though, that might’ve also been the growing motorcycle escort that they were getting.
By the time we got to the office, we had over fifteen bikers on our tail, and the boys in front were looking a little green.
“Such a bad idea,” Shane muttered as he got out and slammed the door.
Agent number two was the one to let me out of the car, and he winced when he saw the blood all over my face and neck.
“Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath.
I held my grin from forming, but only just barely.
It’d been a couple of hours now, and I still didn’t have my lawyer.
Though, I knew that she was there because there was constant yelling and commotion coming from the room beyond that had nothing to do with any prisoners.
“Tell me what happened, one more time, in your own words.”