“I already know the answer to this question, but I’m gonna ask it anyway. I want to know if you’re capable of telling the truth. Who hired you to come here tonight?
“Some guy named Morter. Stanley Morter. I never met the guy before in my life, I swear. I’m a bouncer at the Fancy Cat, and this guy just walked up to me three nights ago and told me he had a job for me.”
“To kill us?”
“This guy Morter, he said he’d pay me twenty grand to kill the lady and make it look like a home invasion. He didn’t say anything about you, though. She was supposed to be alone.”
“How about the rape? Were you gonna throw that in for free?” I asked, punching him twice in the face before plunging his head underneath the water again.
“Scooby! He’s not worth it. Please,” Rowan begged as our would-be killer’s jerking began to slow.
I pulled his head out of the water moments before he would have passed out and turned him to face Rowan.
“See that woman?” I asked. “Despite what you came here to do to her, she wants me to let you live. That’s the woman you came here to murder tonight.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he said, his face covered in snot and blood. “I needed the money. I have a family and I’ve been out of work and the bouncer gig’s only part—”
“Fuck your sob story, you piece of shit,” I said, before slamming his head into the rim of the cast iron tub so hard his eyes rolled into the back of his skull. Then I gave him one more blow to the head, partly to make sure he was subdued, but mostly because he’d pissed me off.
“We have to call the police,” Rowan said.
“I thought you didn’t want me to go to prison?”
“It was self-defense,” Rowan said. “He broke in while I was in the bath and then you came in and stopped him.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Baby, the scales of justice don’t tend to tip in favor of club members.”
“What does you being a biker have to do with this?”
“Me being a biker has everything to do with everything. Especially when it comes to cops, judges, and members of the jury. No matter what the cops and courts do to this guy, which trust me won’t be enough, they’ll find any way they can to put me in the cell right next to his.”
“So, what do we do?” Rowan asked.
“First I need to know if you’re all in?”
“All in?” she asked, but the look on her face told me she knew exactly what I was asking.
“All in. No more secrets. Total and complete trust in me, my club, and how we do things.”
Rowan nodded, her eyes to the floor.
“Look at me, Twinkles. I need to hear you say it. Tell me you’re in and we’ll decide what to do with this guy together.”
Rowan’s eyes met mine. “I’m all in.”
I threw the soaking wet, half-unconscious man to the floor, picked up his stun baton and handed it to Rowan.
“Keep this pointed at him at all times. If he does anything you don’t like, shock him in the balls,” I said, and began unlacing his right boot.
“What are you doing?” Rowan asked.
“Compromising.”
“What the fuck?” the intruder asked, as he began to regain full consciousness.
“Make a single move without my permission and she turns your dick into a French fry, and then I cut your throat. Got it?”
The intruder nodded.