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General trigger warnings for this story: Language, smut, mentions of rape, abuse, drug use/overdose, violence/death.

CHAPTER 26: INFILTRATION

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Clay blinked the sleep out of his eyes as he tightened his grip on his handlebars while he accompanied Gemma on the early morning ride to the office so that he could relieve his Sergeant of the night's watch. He sighed as the cool air drifted over his face as the sun just barely began to peek over the hills, enjoying the moment of peace while he could; pleased that so far - despite the efforts of his rogue VP - it seemed that their visit to Nevada hadn't landed on Alvarez's table.

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Even if the sleepless night had been an order and not a choice - it didn't help Tig feel any better about it as he rested his chin on his folded hands as the first light of the morning poured a dim, blue haze through the windows of the bar. He'd spent the night walking the fine line between impaired enough to silence any deep thoughts, and alert enough to handle a threat if needed - but now that he could hear the rumbling of a Harley pulling into the lot, he needed to get as wasted as possible in the short time between now and when he would be condemned to the uncertainty of sleep. He tipped his whiskey back, ignoring the questioning look that his President gave him when he entered the clubhouse to see him draining a bottle at 7:00 A.M.

"Call me for church later." Sydney announced as she bounded out of the hallway. At some point during the restless night, she'd found herself in Happy's bed. Both dorm mattresses were subpar and unoccupied, but she felt less alone as she tossed and turned in the familiarity of the Tacoma Killer's empty bed than she did in Tig's.

Clay scowled as he watched her storm across the bar and out the door as if she had been waiting for the first opportunity to get the hell out of there, turning back to the dark haired man. "Do I even ask?" He raised brow.

"No. No, you don't." Tig slurred, shaking his head as he pushed himself off of the table, dropping the empty bottle before stumbling to his dorm where he knew Sydney hadn't slept, the simple fact pinching at his heart- signifying that he wasn't drunk enough. He grabbed a bottle from his personal stash and spun the cap off, gulping it down as he fell backwards onto the bed

Gemma had taken the liberty of informing Clay on Tig's recent breakthrough - or setback, rather - of the heinous memories that he harbored over what he had done all those years ago; memories that the older man had almost completely forgotten with how deep Tig had buried them, so he decided to cut his Sergeant some slack. With all of the bullshit that he had going on with his left hand, he couldn't risk losing his right.

"Oh, uh... Hey. I didn't think you'd be here so early." Half-Sack greeted awkwardly from the doorway of the clubhouse, hoping to avoid a scolding for being late.

"Get these guns out of here." Clay dismissed the prospect, nodding to the pile of automatics that Tig had left to be transported to the warehouse where they belonged after the guns that wouldn't get them arrested had been safely stored back around the clubhouse.

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Hours later, Tig was out cold with no burden of horrible, vivid dreams - thanks to the alcohol properly serving its purpose - feeling himself being jostled awake by a large handle on his shoulder

"Wake up! We got church, shithead." Clay smacked him with a pillow - exercising some of his frustration in a light-hearted way.

The delirious man lifted his head, rubbing his eyes before he looked around the room in an attempt to regain control of his foggy brain. "Alright man, I'm comin." He mumbled, rolling onto his side before mustering up the strength to sit up - the position that he'd fallen asleep in with his legs dangling off the end of the bed had not been kind to his aging body.

He straightened himself out quickly - brushing his teeth, splashing some water over his face, and running his fingers through his wild curls before heading towards the chapel. He knew that he desperately needed a shower to properly sober himself up as he ambled down the hallway, but he knew that keeping Clay waiting any longer would only make things worse.

"Sorry." He apologized half-heartedly as he closed the double doors behind him, avoiding Sydney's eyes on his way to his seat.

Clay tutted his tongue in disapproval before he turned his attention to what he had of his crew, ready to face all of the issues that he'd dreaded over the last few days. "Haven't heard anything on the Mayans." He began, looking to Jax.

"Talked to Jury this morning, they haven't been touched yet." Jax nodded.

Clay nodded, glad that at least one thing seemed to be contained for the time being. "As soon as Hap is back and Juice can ride, we'll take a group up to Indian Hills."

Jax bit the inside of his cheek as he glared at Sydney. It seemed that every time that he tried to do the right thing - someone had to fuck it up for him. And Clay's reluctance to let him go to Nevada and speak to his father's longtime friend alone only had him putting more thought into the cryptic book that he'd found in that storage box - the book written by his grieving father about the conflicting forces that had pushed his innocent ideas to darkness, greed, and blood.

"That brings us to the next order of business..." Clay tossed a glance to the blonde girl who was staying unusually quiet, sunken into her seat with her arms crossed. "What's this lookin like, Bobby?"

"We've got about forty… If Laroy takes his regular order - plus the one we delayed on - and the glocks keep coming? We'll be over halfway there by the end of the week."

"What else can we do? We don't know when McKeevy's gonna be back..." Sydney shook her head.

"Talked to Chibs this morning. McKeevy's gonna drop him off, then head down south - as soon as he does, then the clock starts tickin. But for right now, we got a few days grace period to keep thinkin shit up."

"I got a guy who'll buy since Indian Hills is delayed but... He aint gonna pay our prices." Piney announced from the head of the table opposite to his President. "Nate Meineke - an old friend."

"Set it up, we need anything we can get right now." Clay nodded, Jax joining in - grateful for the old man offering his rarely given help.

"What's Laroy gonna say when he hears we're sellin for half price?" Tig rebutted.

"Oh, no... Nate's not that kind of friend." Piney assured with a smirk.

"Uh, Clay... You better get out here." Half-Sack flung the doors of the chapel open, looking over his shoulder at the security display screens positioned above the bar that showed the entirety of Charming PD swarming outside of the door with guns drawn.

"Oh shit..." The President groaned as he gazed upon what was about to unfold. "Cops!" He hollered to his crew who all stood as quickly as possible while he attempted to get over to Gemma who was standing at the bar.

"Down!" He heard as the clubhouse door was kicked open, stopping in his tracks and placing his hands onto the bartop as the sea of cops flooded the clubhouse, slamming members against walls and to the ground.

Sydney had almost reached Clay when she heard the command to get down. She looked back at Tig who nodded, slowly sinking to his knees with his hands up. She nodded back, copying him as she watched everyone around her get taken to the ground - some rougher than others, thanks to the cops in the department who clearly did not share in Unser's opinion of the MC. She spotted the Chief standing outside with his head down, visibly worried about how this was going down and what it would mean for him - which told her that he didn't order it. But if the Chief of police didn't order it, then who did?

"Hey! Get off of her!" Sydney's head snapped up to see a bald man wrestling Gemma to the ground, Clay breaking away from the two men holding him in place and yelling his profanities to the cop who dared to lay a hand on his wife. But before the angry man could do something that he would regret, he was wrestled to the ground and forced onto his stomach next to her.

"I'm okay, baby." Gemma tried to calm him, but her communication earned her a kick in the stomach from the piece of shit who had manhandled her in the first place.

"Hey!" Jax screamed, wiggling under the boot that was pressed to his back.

Tig pressed his nose to the wooden floor, shaking his head because he knew that if he focused on what was happening, he would earn himself a prison cell for the next few years.

Clay pushed himself up as he watched her recoil - crumpling into a ball as she tried to catch her breath. The strength of his adrenaline had no regard for the force on top of him as he went to carry out what his first instinct had been all along.

A wicked expression overtook Sydney's face when she saw the opportunity - baring her teeth in a sadistic grin as she pressed her cheek against the cold wood of the floor before pushing herself up.

"Syd!" Tig yelled when he saw what she was doing.

Clay stopped before he could start something that he wouldn't be able to take back, but he didn't stop because he'd wanted to - he'd stopped because the man that he'd gone to attack was already being attacked.

Sydney managed to gain enough speed as she bolted across the bar, launching herself towards the power-hungry cop and knocking him onto his back where she landed on top of him and was able to get in one solid punch before she was hauled off of him and slammed down against the bartop, laughing maniacally as her arms were hashly yanked behind her back. One solid punch was all she'd needed.

Clay thanked his green eyed savior with a blink before he was tackled once again - finding himself restrained with cuffs this time as he laid over the beer stained floor, watching as she winked while her own pair of cuffs tightened around her wrists and a dark haired man straightened her up by a yank to her long blonde mane.

"Mmm, pull my hair daddy." She laughed as she was hustled out, her cork wedges shuffling across the floor.

"No! Don't touch her!" Tig's screaming was all that could be heard even amongst the comotion. If there was anything to sober him up - it was seeing his old lady being carted off in cuffs when there was nothing he could do about it. This was exactly the kind of thing that he had tried to talk her out of doing just hours before.

"Tig!" Clay hollered, his booming voice serving its purpose when the Sergeant finally stopped his ear piercing protests and looked to his President who simply nodded his assurance that everything would be okay.

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"Aw... What the hell is this!" Unser groaned with a squint, thrusting his hands into the air when he saw the little blonde girl being loaded into a squad car by one of his deputies - knowing that this would only add to the wrath from Clay that he was already dreading after the disaster of a day.

"Little bitch took a shot on Lemmings."

"Oh, uh... Put her in my car. I'll take her down to the station." The Chief nodded, thankful for an excuse to get out of there - and an excuse that may help him plead his case, at that.

The middle-aged officer nodded hesitantly to his superior, jerking the giggling woman toward Chief's car and practically throwing her inside, slamming the door with extra force when she only continued laughing.

Unser climbed into his squad car, saying nothing as he started the engine and made his way off of the compound. "What the hell was that?" He spoke once the coast was clear, looking into his rearview mirror at the innocent looking girl - the metal cuffs on her wrists reminding him that she was anything but.

"I should be asking you the same thing." She stared back into the mirror at the old man, narrowing her eyes and raising a brow.

"Who the hell are you?" He shook his head, looking over his shoulder at her incredulously. For the entire time that the cop had worked with outlaws, he'd never known a woman to be so involved in the club's business - not even Gemma. He scoffed when she didn't respond to his question, looking into the mirror again to see her smirking knowingly - telling him that she was about to repeat her previously cocky answer. "Okay." He sighed. "So I take it that you know what's going on here?"

"That I do… Do you?" She leant forward, narrowing her eyes even more where she held his gaze for a few seconds until she was satisfied that he was good and frazzled. "Got a smoke?"

"What does that mean?" Unser scowled, looking over his shoulder once again before producing a cigarette and holding his lighter up behind him.

"I'll take that as a no." She chuckled, blowing a cloud of smoke into the front of the vehicle before she sat back against the seat, cross legged. "Hey, Chief? You mind rollin the window down? Give a girl some air..."

"You aint gonna go jumpin out and runnin off down the street, are ya?"

She leant in towards him again as he looked back over his shoulder - unable to keep his eyes off of her, there was something about her that was just so captivating.

"Well, if I do… You're the one with the gun." She winked before sitting back where she laid down across the seats and stuck her legs out the open window.

"Woah! That's not what I thought you meant when you said you wanted the window open."

"I'm disappointed, Wayne." She brought the cigarette to her lips. "I thought you would've known more about negotiating with terrorists."

"You want a ticket for not wearing your seatbelt too?"

"Eh, may as well add it to the list." She shrugged.

"Okay, well-" Unser grumbled in defeat. "You gonna answer my question?"

"Don't know, you gonna answer mine?" She countered, taking another drag.

"I didn't know about the raid." He sighed. "Hale got the order from ATF after a tip about a shoot out yesterday involving bikers. Organized it behind my back, I didn't have time to give a heads up."

"I suggest that you tell Clay that as soon as possible… Because the reason that I'm sittin in here with you is the very reason that he's gonna have you cremated by two o'clock tomorrow."

"What? Why?" He scowled. "The search turned up nothin."

"The search turned up a battered wife."

"What?" He exclaimed, whipping his head around - a reaction much stronger than Sydney had expected.

"Damn, you two used to date or somethin?" She scoffed. "She's fine - but Clay wasn't. That's why I'm here instead of him."

"He put you up to it?" He ignored her speculation.

"Call it... Instinct."

"What, you some kind of hero or somethin?" He squinted as he pulled into the station lot, the cryptic words of the blonde girl only confusing him even more.

"You could say that." She smirked before retaking a normal seating position so that he could bring her in formally.

"I'll make sure he doesn't press charges." He announced with his head down once he'd killed the engine.

"You trying to make it up to us?"

"Maybe..." He lied, keeping the real reason for his protection of the club to himself - the same way that he'd done for decades.

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"Looks like we got that warehouse just in time..." Clay hung his head as he sat before the reaper.

"Why the hell are we just sittin here, man? We gotta go get her!" Tig yelled.

"Relax." Clay winced. Tig had been a mess from the minute that he'd walked into the clubhouse this morning, and the current situation had only turned him into a ticking time bomb. "That girl doesn't do shit that she don't wanna do. If she got herself locked up, it was because she wanted to!" He had absolutely no worries for Sydney's wellbeing - she was safe in Unser's cage, and he'd known by that smug little wink that there was more to the story.

"She's a liability… Gonna get us in trouble." Jax shook his head.

"I don't think you wanna be talkin about liabilities here, son..." Clay warned.

"We be there to post bail once she's processed." Tig interrupted what was sure to be yet another father-son argument.

"We be there when we get the call." Clay narrowed his eyes at Tig who continued to walk further over the line - the line that had already been extended for him.

"I don't give a shit about a phone call!"

"Yeah, well I do! What I give a shit about right now is finding out why the hell Unser didn't give us a heads up about that raid! I give a shit about coming up with $200k. What I don't give a shit about, is your need to know her every move!" The frustration boiled over as Clay only continued to be shown that he couldn't count on the two people who were supposed to be his support.

Tig hung his head in defeat. He knew that he was acting irrationally, but with the way that his mind spiraled it was just so easy to let it take over...

"Nobody, and I mean nobody tells Happy about this." Clay scolded his table, the chorus of affirmations that the statement earned him being the quickest favorable consensus that he'd been able to reach in months.

"So do we think Unser's still upset about the blackmail?" Jax piped up, seizing the opportunity to shine while Clay's anger had been directed elsewhere.

"Maybe." Opie nodded - still harboring his own resentment over the way that he had been tricked into contributing to the delayed retirement of the old man who had been nothing but good to them. "But why make it worse on himself?"

"The Chief aint ever been the 'send a message' type, I don't see why he would start now." Clay thought aloud.

"Maybe he didn't know?" Juice suggested.

"Only way that something would've gone past Unser is if it came down from above, and we've managed to steer clear of ATF thus far." But as soon as Clay spoke the words, he realized what had happened. Someone must've seen them at the Mayan shootout - the shootout that wouldn't have happened if it weren't for Jax... "I'll talk to Unser, but if they aint questionin us, it means they don't got shit - it's all smoke." His tone held nothing but finality, effectively picked up by his crew as they cleared out quickly. He didn't want to worry his men with the possible threat of ATF when they needed to be focusing on making enough money to pay their Irish debt.

"You gonna tell me what that shit was yesterday?" Tig heard from behind him as he made to exit the chapel.

"Don't know, man." He pursed his lips as he shook his head.

"Come on, Tigger. You don't gotta lie to me." Clay softened his tone.

The dark haired man stood still, hanging his head when his friend reached out and plucked his heartstrings. "On that highway... I saw." He shook his head, not willing to face the picture forming in his mind.

"Tig…" Clay sighed. "She's not Juli-"

"Don't!" He stopped the dreaded name that was about to leave his mouth. "Don't say her name." He whispered shakily, squeezing his eyes shut as they filled with tears.

"She don't need protection." Clay walked over, gripping his friend's shoulder and squeezing it comfortingly. "You need to remember who she is. She isn't her."

"I can't." Tig looked up with watery eyes as he shook his head.

"You can't because you're not lettin yourself. You keep treating her like she's someone she aint? You'll lose her anyway." The President narrowed his eyes before he turned to leave.

"As long as she's safe." Clay heard Tig mumble from the chapel as he passed through the doors, shaking his head as the morale of his club continued to steadily plummet.

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"Hey, hey! What is she doing here?" Sydney heard an angry voice from across the station, turning to see David Hale stomping over to where she stood with Unser who had just finished collecting and bagging her belongings.

"Nice to see you too, Davy." She smiled sarcastically.

"Oh, I see you two have met." Unser nodded, skipping the introductions. "She swung on Lemmings..." He replied with a small smirk. Even though he and his straight-laced deputy were on opposing sides for just about everything - one of the few things that they agreed on was their opinion of the cocky bald man who thought that a badge at a small town cop shop made him some kind of dictator.

"Did she get him?" Hale responded with his usual hard-ass tongue, but there was a small smirk pulling on his face as well.

Unser looked to Sydney who smiled and nodded. "I'll take her from here." Hale nodded to his Chief who looked at him wearily, wondering what exactly supplied his interest in her - and if that interest would get him in trouble.

"It's okay, Wayne - I'll scream if I need ya." Sydney winked, she had gotten all the information that she needed from the Chief for now.

Unser nodded after a moment's hesitation, putting all of his confidence in the young girl; that she would not give up anything that the scheming deputy could possibly use against the Sons - or against him.

Hale led Sydney to an interview room towards the front of the station when he saw Tara Knowles climbing out of a black car through the plated glass windows. The blue-eyed man had always had a bit of a crush on the quiet girl that he'd known for a majority of his life, and he'd never quite gotten over it, even after she had settled for the likes of none other than Jax Teller.

"Sit down, I'll be right in." He instructed the handcuffed woman before he closed the door quickly and returned to the front desk. "Tara... Hi." He greeted the beautiful brunette as she walked through the doors.

Sydney perked up when she heard the familiar name, wondering why on earth Tara would be at the police station. She got up, pressing her chained wrists against her thighs to avoid noise as she shuffled closer to the door to listen in.

"Hi." Tara smiled. "Uh, you remember the other day? At the hospital… When I said I had a question?"

"Yes, I remember." He smiled politely. "That question that was 'too dramatic to ask'?"

"Yeah, that one…" She chortled nervously. "Um, okay, I'm just gonna ask." She shook her head. "If I had a restraining order against someone in another city, would it still be valid if I went someplace else?"

"Well, that all depends. Every state is a little different." He nodded with concern, lowering his voice and narrowing his eyes. "You think that 'someone' might be coming here?"

Sydney was glad to hear that Jax's fixation didn't seem to have anything to do with the raid - not needing an opportunity for Gemma to prove her wrong. However, the nature of Tara's question brought her back to the day at the hospital when the doctor had gotten spooked by that phone call.

"Do you wanna give me his name?" Hale raised a brow. "I'll run it through the syste-"

"No, that's okay." Tara stopped him. "I'm just being paranoid."

Sydney wanted to scream from the other side of the door as Tara brushed off what could potentially be a very dangerous situation - she knew firsthand what happened when abuse went unattended to by an outside force. But she didn't have time to dwell on the doctor's problems as the voices stopped - scurrying back to her seat, not needing Hale to catch her eavesdropping before she had found out what she'd come for.

Tara's feet scuffed against the pavement as she willed herself to ignore the 'flight' portion of her 'fight or flight' instincts kicking in. She slammed her car door shut, hyperventilating as soon as she was alone. She knew that he wasn't fucking around like he had been back in Chicago; the photos, the cryptic messages - following her to Charming and claiming that it was for business... She'd had no idea that until today that Chicago was just the beginning - the full story becoming very clear to her after she'd received the phone call telling her to drive by the clubhouse. The raid had been his sick way of showing her what he was capable of - that he could orchestrate an entire takedown with the snap of his fingers - if she continued whatever it was that she had started back up with Jax. Now she didn't know what to do. She was no match for the power and connections of a fed - which was why she had returned back to Charming in the first place.

"Who the hell is Josh Kohn?" Sydney heard Unser yelling just outside the door.

"ATF, Chicago - looking into your favorite MC." Hale answered smugly. "Followed Jax Teller to that warehouse a few weeks back. You know - the one that your boys were using as their gun factory."

"You aint got shit to prove it." Unser spat at the younger man.

"That may be so… But he also witnessed a few of them in a shootout with rival gang on 88 yesterday."

"That's why you raided their clubhouse for guns..." Unser surmised aloud. " So the 'tip' came from ATF? Why aint they here then?"

Bingo. A wide grin spread across Sydney's face.

"Not enough evidence... Yet." Hale sneered as he turned his back on his Chief, feeling like he was finally gaining some ground on the massively corrupt system of his hometown.

Hale finally entered the room with all of the equipment that he needed to book Sydney for the assault. He was so caught up in the hustle and bustle of the events that had taken place over the last hour that he hadn't even gotten time to breathe a sigh of relief for the fact that he'd managed to take over her case before someone could dig up her records that he'd buried the day before.

"Just couldn't resist me, huh?" Sydney grinned as the man closed the door behind him, lifting her hand to touch her necklace before lowering it slowly when she remembered that it had been taken.

"I'm doing my job." He grunted, pulling up a chair beside her, filling out her fingerprint sheet in silence. "J-a-d-e?" He confirmed the spelling of her middle name.

"You're smarter than you look." She smirked.

"I know you were heading to that chase on 88 yesterday..." He surmised after a few more moments of silence.

"Hmm..." Sydney dropped her voice. "If I remember correctly, I was brought in on an assault charge, not an attempted murder with a deadly weapon charge - but I admire your persistence, deputy. I'm something of an opportunist myself." She nodded with a cocky smirk.

"I see that." His jaw clenched. "You ever been printed before?"

"Well I think you already know the answer to that." She tilted her head.

"He's going to be pressing charges." He sneered, grabbing her hand where he rolled her dainty fingers over the black pad of ink as quickly as possible - unable to stop his eyes from trailing to the emptiness across her knuckles where he could tell her rings usually sat by the faint white lines among her tanned skin.

"You sure about that?" Her suggestive green gaze bore into him.

"You can stay here until someone posts your bail." He slammed the inkpad closed and pushed himself up from the metal table.

"You think I'm too pretty for the cage?"

"I figured I'd save you from getting raped by the scum that filters through those bars." He snarled venomously.

"Sounds like a mighty good time." She moaned in a seductive southern accent - she could tell she'd really pissed him off now.

"I guess you're used to it." He smiled sarcastically before yanking her up by the chain of the handcuffs, dragging her to the back of the station house and to the holding cells.

Sydney smirked as he pushed her inside of one of the empty cages and slammed the metal bars shut behind her, staring him down as he stomped away before she made herself comfortable on the sorry excuse of a mattress - kicking her feet up and preparing herself to enjoy the silence until her charges were dropped.

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As the day came to a close and shifts swapped, Sydney started wondering if Unser would even be able to convince the bald man with a bruised ego to drop the charges. She knew that since she hadn't gotten a phone call - or the opportunity to contact a lawyer - that they were not final, but she had expected to have been released by now if they weren't being pursued. She eventually nodded off as the dingy room got darker and darker as the sun set - slipping into a sleep much deeper than she would've expected - waking up sometime around 6:00 A.M. if she had to guess by the color of the sky in the sliver of a window across the room. She sat up from the hard mattress, stretching out her denim covered legs and rolling her eyes as the first noise that she heard was her stomach growling, of course they'd forgotten to feed their only prisoner.

"You hungry?" She was surprised to look up and see Hale approaching her cell.

"And here I was thinking that you guys were just gonna let me wither away." She joked. "Thought you'd be long gone by now."

"I offered the night watch." The reality was that Hale couldn't get a start on his true task until after his scheduled shift, so he needed a cover story for his colleagues - and that true task had consumed him as he completely immersed himself in finding out anything that he could about her past.

"Our time together wasn't enough for ya?" She grinned.

The blue eyed man looked down to the concrete with a chuckle. Before he had thought that her theatrics were just a charming facade, but her persistent flirting had him questioning his previous evaluation of the new woman in town.

"What're you hungry for?" He looked back up at her.

"Probably nothin that you got." She grimaced. "I'll take a smoke?" He nodded, pulling out a pack of Marlboro's along with a green lighter. "You go all the way to the store just for me, or are those yours?" She snorted, accepting the cigarette and placing it in her mouth before leaning in so that he could light the end.

"Cop can't smoke?"

"Not a clean one." She scoffed, exhaling a gray cloud.

He chuckled as he shoved the red packet back into the chest pocket of his uniform, leaning against the wall next to the cage where he looked down at her, watching as those pouty lips wrapped around the white cylinder and sucked...

Sydney peered up at him through her eyelashes, staring for a few seconds with the cigarette in her mouth, gazing upon his softened expression. Hook, line, and sinker. "What're you guys searching the clubhouse for?" She asked softly as her eyes flicked down to his lips.

"What d'you think we're searching the clubhouse for?" His tone remained kind. After hours of fussing over her records just to find that she was squeaky clean, he was exhausted - desperate, hoping that maybe if he played her game, she would give him something usable. Because after sifting through the minefield that was her childhood - one blow after another, he still had nothing that he could use against the feisty MC associate. Not even the murder of the man who had been responsible for the death of her mother.

"Something that don't exist." She shook her head, taking another drag. "Got anything to do with that fed?" His eye twitched when she mentioned Kohn.

"He wants a piece of the pie." He spoke cryptically, cursing himself for somehow allowing her to pick up information when it was supposed to be the other way around

"What about you, Davy?" She squinted as she blew smoke over the man's face, stamping out the butt against the brick wall. "You want a piece of that pie?"

"Seems like you know all about getting in on a piece of the pie..." He tipped his strong chin towards her.

"I've always been more of a cream pie kind of girl..." She smirked as his eyes fell to her pronounced cleavage in the black, low cut top she wore. "You know?" Her head tilted up towards his.

"Yeah... Yeah I think I do." Before he knew what he was doing, he was leaning down towards her lips - something that definitely hadn't been part of his plan.

"Harding!" Hale was startled by the loud yelling behind him, turning to see a fellow officer. "Charges have been dropped. You're free to go." The hispanic man tossed the keys to his distracted colleague, giving him a look that told him that he had some serious explaining to do if he wanted to get out of this one.

"Who can I call to pick you up?" Hale choked out once they were alone again.

"I was hoping you could give me a lift?" She looked at him with that helpless pout that she'd spent her whole life perfecting.

"Yeah... I could do that." He looked down at the gorgeous woman - the woman that had somehow managed to charm her way into his heavily biased mind and had him risking his career. He shook the thoughts away, turning to find the right key that would let her free.

"Thanks, Davy." Sydney rounded the confining bars once they sprang free. "I knew I could count on you." She tilted her head up, kissing him on the cheek before strutting out of the holding area and towards the front desk as if walking out of a prison cell was just another daily activity for her.

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... ok don't hate me but, this might be my favorite chapter yet😅

Song for this chapter

Manners - Ashnikko