𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨 ☠ 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙊𝙪𝙩𝙡𝙖𝙬𝙨 𝙈𝙤𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙘𝙮𝙘𝙡𝙚 𝘾𝙡𝙪𝙗

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖.

Everett pulled the car into the driveway of the club house, his eyes widening at the scene before them. Pheobe felt her heart stop. Police cars littered the parking lot, uniformed men and women scattered around the place. Pheobe noticed shattered glass and bullet holes plastered along the front of the clubhouse. She prayed that the bar the club owned wasn't hurt, there had most likely been innocent people in there. 

"Shit, what the hell happened?" Everett breathed as he quickly braked the car. The two of them jumped out, Pheobe scanning the area to see Braxten talking to a law enforcement officer. Braxten caught sight of the car pull in and spotted Pheobe. Without a word Braxten forced his way away from the officer and met Pheobe halfway. He placed his much bigger hands on the sides of her face, scanning her carefully.

"You're not hurt?" Braxten questioned while his eyes were glazed with mixed emotions of worry and anger. Pheobe shook her head before Braxten immediately pulled her into his arms. Shocked by his affection, Pheobe didn't react. She knew he was worried for her and she knew that he meant this. Pheobe was beginning to understand that in those years where she left him he always loved her and still does. Nothing less of that. The heart-warming hug broke and Braxten stared harshly at Everett, stepping in front of the prospect. "You're lucky nothing happened to her, Everett," Braxten reminded. Pheobe wanted the defend Jace but she was caught up by the officer now approaching. "I have family here now and I need them protected."

"You're welcome," Everett joked light-heartedly. His chuckled faded abruptly when he saw that Braxten wasn't laughing, instead he was still giving him the cold look. Braxten was always this way with prospects, sure they were people just like anyone but Braxten was always wary of people wanting to join the club. Years ago there was a prospect who ended up being a rat and almost got the whole club shut down but Weston, Wyatt's Dad, took the all the blame and found himself in prison for a few years. He was killed in prison. Weston was Braxten's best friend, the two of them had been close for years, longer than what Pheobe could remember. That is why Braxten is so hasty towards prospects, however Everett knows the story and understands why Braxten is so cold towards him. It's nothing personal, he is just afraid of a repeat. 

"Braxten," the officer grunted from behind him. Braxten sighed, turning around to face him. The officer was bulky yet with a little fat. His bald head was covered by his hat, Pheobe felt like if his head wasn't covered it would blind everyone with reflecting the sunlight. 

"Yes?" Braxten responded, sounding unpleased. 

"If you walk away from me again I will have to charge you with failure to cooperate," he explained harshly. The officer's words were bitter, Pheobe sensed a heated tension between the two of them. Perhaps they knew each other. 

"Can't a Father check on his daughter or are you too up your ass to allow that?" Braxten spat fiercely at the officer. The officer shook his head, brushing off Braxten's comment. 

"Are you apart of any illegal activity that could have enfluenced this to happen?" The officer asked boldly. Braxten folded his arms across his chest, a smirk falling onto his face.

"Are you suggesting something, Linton?" Braxten asked him. Officer Linton shoved his note pad into the pocket on his pants, staring coldly at Braxten.

"I know exactly what this club is," he announced. "You and your little 'motorcycle enthusiasts' do illegal shit. Your little club will get shut down one day and your bullshit won't slide anymore," Linton warned him. Braxten took a step closer to officer Linton, completely unafraid of him. Pheobe watched on, gawking at the two men. 

"Me and my 'little club'," Braxten quoted, mocking the officer. "Are the good guys in this city. You don't see us shooting up innocent people, do you?" Braxten hissed at him. "Now do your damn job and figure out who did this shit."