Chapter 4 Warning The Cop
Tiana’s POV
I went to work on Monday morning to meet with the sheriff, and everything made me feel pressed.
From the moment I walked into the office, I could feel the stares and the whispers. To be honest, they didn’t bother to hide it.
“Nia?” Tyler calls my name.
“Yeah?” I reply, walking towards him.
“Sheriff wants to see you,” he tells me.
I conceal the groan that wants to slip out of my mouth, and I give him a tight nod. I head to the Sheriff’s and knock on his door lightly.
“Come in,” he says through the door.
I begrudgingly open the door, and his face is set in a rigid line when he sees it’s me.
Talk about a warm reception. “Good morning, Sheriff.”
“Sinclair, have a seat.”
Damn. No acknowledgement? This is why I hate greetings.
I sit, and for a moment, he just looks at me, making me feel uncomfortable. “Tiana Sinclair,” he begins, and I try to school my features, because why the hell is he calling my name like this is some classroom attendance?
“You came to Hillview from the city, and I’m sensing that the reason you’re here is that you want a semblance of peace.” He tilts his head to the left. “Am I correct?”
I harden my gaze, and I nod.
“Words, Officer.”
“Yes, sir,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Good.” He gives me a nod. “Here in Hillview, we respect the Fallen Saints MC.”
A snicker escapes from my lips, and the stare the Sheriff gives me makes me mutter a quick apology.
“Is something funny, Sinclair?” he quietly asks.
“No, sir.”
“Speak,” he orders.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“I would like to know why the respect we have for the Fallen Saints MC seems to crack you up.”
I clear my throat. “It doesn’t crack me up, Sir. It’s just that I wonder how this town would respect criminals.”
“When you stay in this town for a while, you’ll know why they have the respect of all of us,” he assures me, and this time around, I’m proud of myself for not crashing out.
“With all due respect, sir, I don’t think that will be happening.”
He shrugs. “We’ll see, but I’m here to warn you that you shouldn’t make any other arrest without a warrant.”
I purse my lips in reply.
“Do you hear me, Officer?” he asks.
“Yes, sir.”
“You may leave.”
Ouch.
I leave the office, and Tyler comes to me. “How did it go?”
“He just basically told me to leave the Fallen Saints MC,” I tell him, walking to my desk.
“I did try to warn you.”
“How was I supposed to know that your town seems to have a hard-on for criminals?” I ask under my breath.
Tyler’s lips tug up slightly. “Our.”
“What?” I ask.
“You said my town, but it’s our town,” he explains, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“Get out,” I hiss.
He chuckles, then he says, “Honestly, Nia, I’m sorry for what happened, and for what it’s worth, I get why you did it.
“Well, it seems the Sheriff doesn’t see things that way,” I murmur.
He gives me a small smile. “Don’t think about it too much.”
I swear, I wasn’t going to think about it too much, until I entered my house, and I had a feeling of unease that told me someone had been here. Without even a second thought, my hands go for my pistol, and I point it in front of me, checking my surroundings.
I check behind my door first, but I don’t see anything. I head to my kitchen, and what I see makes my eyes widen.
My perfectly clean and arranged kitchen is in disarray. The floors don’t look like I religiously mop them three times a week; my pots, plates, and cutlery are everywhere. Hell, some of my plates are broken.
No, no, no, no.
This can’t be real. I hold on to my gun and bend to pick up the plates my grandmother had given me.
My kitchen walls are drawn on, and I kid you not, there’s a large writing on the wall that reads;
“NEXT TIME DON’T EVER ARREST THE PREZ WITHOUT A WARRANT. HELL, DON’T THINK OF ARRESTING OUR PREZ AT ALL.”
A scoff slips through my lips, and I don’t know how I reach out to my phone with the way my hands tremble, and I take pictures and videos of the scene in front of me.
Will this be enough to jail those Fallen Saints pricks, now?
I hear something that sounds like glass shattering from my room, and I quickly put my phone in my back pocket, hold on to my gun, and climb the stairs to my room. When I open the door to my room, I see the man jump before I take a shot at his leg. I don’t even bother checking the window to see where he lands.
I rush down the stairs when I see the motherfucker wave at me, which makes me take a shot at the car, but it doesn’t stop them as they speed off, yelling, “Sorry, not sorry, Sexy Cop.”
“Fuck!”
I reach for my car keys and head to my car, but I notice that my car is vandalized, which only keeps me boiling over the edge.
They also dared to spray paint:
MIND YOUR BUSINESS NEXT TIME, SEXY COP.
These bastards are going to pay. Without wasting any time, I grab the bike my father bought me when I turned twenty-one and head straight to the Fallen Saints Club, because there’s no way those fuckers won’t pay for this.
