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STALKED (Wolverine MC)
We shouldn’t fucking have to come here, but to keep up appearances we need to make a show of being worried. King fucking thought it would be a great idea that Gunner and I showed our faces and made a fuss about the killings that have been happening in the area. I don’t know why he didn’t send Hawk; after all, he’s the one that promised his woman that he would find the fucker that killed her sister. Damn, I hate being in police stations.
We stop our bikes across the road from the police station; sitting back, I sigh as I take the helmet off and place it on my handlebars. Looking over at Gunner, I see him looking over his shoulder towards the entrance.
“This isn’t cool,” he mutters as he looks over at me, a frown on his face.
“I’ll wait here with the bikes you go in and check,” I say and see him raise his brow.
“Nice try,” he grunts, “but we might as well do this together; the sooner we go in, the sooner we are out of there and on our way.” Most of the cops in town have a bone to pick with us, as they all think we are trash. Being sensitive to people doesn’t always help when we know they despise us, when we can sense their disdain and contempt. People are judgemental, and even though they don’t know us, but just because we are bikers and live a certain lifestyle, they automatically think that we are outlaws.
If they only knew that we actually fight evil they would change their tune, but we aren’t interested in people’s praises and instead like the fact that everyone thinks we are outlaws because that helps our cover. We deliver parcels as a cover, in the meantime acquiring information from our surroundings and others which lead us to real criminals and stopping them.
Grunting I slip off my bike, straightening my kutte as I start making my way towards the station, Gunner falling into step. As we approach, I see two cops that are standing outside talking look our way and tense, “coming to give yourselves in?” one says in a sarcastic tone.
Motherfucker, sometimes I really wish we didn’t have to be so human. Sometimes I would really like to let my wolf loose and teach these assholes a lesson. “There is nothing that we are guilty of,” I mutter as we continue making our way inside. I hear the same asshole mutter ‘yeah right’ as we approach the reception area.
The cop behind the counter frowns when he sees us, but to his credit, he doesn’t comment sarcastically like most of them will do. “Well, what can I do for you boys today?” he asks as he places the palms of his hands on the counter and looks at us steadily.
“We are here to speak to Sergeant Patull,” Gunner states as he leans his hip against the counter, looking back towards the entrance. I see the cop’s inquisitive expression but to his credit he doesn’t comment, instead he picks up the phone and dials.