I sit at my desk, staring blankly at my computer. There has to be something I’m missing. A 47 year-old male; Caucasian, killed in his own home. The guy was loaded, yet the wife reported nothing was missing. The murderer must’ve known the victim, but we already cleared everyone that had any relation to him. 

I jump at the slam of a stack of papers on my desk.

“We’ve finally got a lead!” Mitch: He’s been my best friend for as long as I can remember and partners going on five years now. 

I take the file from the top of the pile and open the folder. 

“Hunter Ambrose.” I continue down his file. “The leader of the Black Knights?!”

“Yes. There’s forensic evidence that places him at the scene of the crime.”

A chill runs down my spine. The Black Knights is one of the most feared and dangerous motorcycle gangs in Toronto. I take a deep breath in attempt to calm my nerves. It seems odd though that the leader of that gang would be so careless and then not even take any money. Maybe our victim was into some shady business. I look at the evidence: there are signs of him everywhere! Nobody’s been able to catch them! Something just doesn’t seem right about this. 

“Have we arrested him yet?”

”The evidence we have on him is circumstantial at best. We know he was in there, but we don’t know when, or if he was even involved in the murder. For all we know, Ambrose and the victim were friends.”

I nod. “So, what’s the plan?”

“The chief and I spoke. I swear, I tried to talk him out of it, but he thinks be best way to catch The Black Knights is…” He trails off, his eyes go to his feet. My heart speeds up. 

”Just tell me!”

”Ok.” Mitch lets out a heavy breath. “He wants you to go undercover with the Black Knights.”

My breath hitches. My heart is beating so fast, I’m surprised it’s still in my chest. 

“I’m so sorry! You don’t have to do this.” Mitch places his hand on mine. “After your father—”

I feel as if I was going to throw up.

“No!” I get up from my seat and hurry into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. 

Why did he have to bring that up? I look at myself in the mirror, tears flowing freely down my cheeks. 

My thoughts are interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

“Elliyannah!” Mitch yells. “Come on! Open the door!”

“No!”

“Please Elle!” He pleads. “Can we just talk?”

His voice is full of worry and concern.

I take a paper towel, wiping the tears from my face, before swinging the door open.

“What?”

I turn back, moving further into the bathroom, Mitch following right behind me.

“I’m sorry I brought up your dad. That wasn’t fair.”

“No, it wasn’t.” I slide down the wall until I’m sitting. “I just—”

I choke back a sob, unsuccessfully trying to keep the tears at bay. 

Mitch takes a seat beside me, pulling me into a comforting hug. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

The room is silent, allowing me the time to think.

My father was the leader of the Black Knights. It’s part of the reason I decided to become a detective. I saw what life in that gang did to my dad. When I was little, he was a great guy! Sweet, gentle, loving. He was my hero. When my dad got mixed up with that gang, I started losing him, bit by bit. He became hardened… hateful. He started drinking. He and my mom would always fight. It only got worse as time went on and he took on more responsibility with the gang. I barely ever saw him. After becoming the leader, I was lucky if I saw him twice in a year. He was killed in a fight with a rival gang, but by then, my dad had become a complete stranger. I decided I wanted to be the exact opposite of my dad, so I made sure I followed the rules. I did well in school. I became a detective. 

Now, I have to go undercover in the very gang that destroyed my father.

Life sure is ironic!

“I’ll do it!”

Mitch pulls away just enough to look me in the eye.

“Are you sure? Because—”

“No.” I said, waving him off. “I need to face my past and move on. I’m not my dad.”

“You’re right.” Mitch said. “You’re not your dad. You’re so much stronger than he was!”

“Thanks Mitch!”

“So, we’re doing this?”

I nod. “Yes. We’re doing this!”

“I’ll be with you the whole time!”

“I know you will!”

At 9:00 pm, I find myself standing outside The Rift, wearing a tight black dress, just barely covering my butt. It was a gift from my sister a few years ago. I’d never found an occasion to wear it until now. I look up at the tall building radiating with lights and music. I yank the hem of the dress down as far as it will go, which is not much. 

“I don’t think I can do this!”

“Yes you can!” Mitch’s voice is comforting in my ear. “I’ll be here the whole time.”

With a deep breath, I head into the club. The chief was able to acquire a VIP pass for me. Apparently, he has connections.

The bass from the music pounds in my ears. There are people everywhere.  

“See anything?” Mitch asks.

“Not yet.” I say, making my way deeper into the crowd.

“Keep going.”

I make my way up to the VIP lounge, and that’s where I see him with a girl on either arm”

“Got him.” I say, sitting at a table a safe distance from Hunter.

“Perfect! What do you see?”

“Not much.” I say. “Wow! Those girls really aren’t holding back!”

A blonde and a brunette sit on either side of him, their hands roaming over Hunter’s body and planting kisses on his neck.

“What?” 

“Oh!” I start at Mitch’s voice, remembering I was wired. “Nothing!”

“Okay.” He says. “See if you can get closer.”

Just as I’m about to stand up, a man takes a seat across from me. He’s at least twice my size. Tall, with bulging muscles. 

“Hey baby.” He says, the smell of alcohol wafting off his breath. “What do you say we grab a drink?”

The greasy smile on his face is enough to make my stomach churn.

“No thanks.” 

“Awww, please baby?” His voice is low and full of lust, his words starting to slur. “Just one drink.”

“No.”

His smirk slowly fades into a scowl. He grabs my wrist in a vice grip. I try to wiggle it free, but it’s no use. 

“Let go of me!”

“Let’s get out of here.”

He starts pulling me in the direction of the exit. Rage burns in the pit of my stomach as I dig my heals in. Just when he turns around, I kick him in the groin. His grip loosens just enough to pull away. It doesn’t take long to recompose himself. 

“You Bitch!”

He winds his fist back, but I dodge it, causing him to lose his balance and fall down a small set of stairs, passed out and drunk. 

I let out a sigh of relief, when suddenly, a deep, smooth voice sounds from behind me.

“I would‘ve asked if you needed help, but it looks like you took care of it.”

I whirl around, startled to find myself face-to-face with Hunter Ambrose. The pit in my stomach seems to grow, and I begin to feel light-headed

“I’m Hunter.” He says. “And who might you be?”

I stare at him in shock. The sound of him clearing his throat bringing me back to reality.

“Elle.”

“Nice to meet you!” A thrill runs up my spine, his voice like a soft caress. “Can I interest you in a drink.”

“You saw what happened to the last guy who asked that, right?”

His laugh is deep and smooth. “Beautiful, strong, and has a sense of humour!”

“That’s me!” I say, an awkward laugh escaping my mouth. 

“So, what do you say?”

This is my chance to get to know him better. See if he reveals anything.

“Alright.”

He leads me to his table, though it seems the girls from earlier have left.

With the snap of his fingers, a waiter comes rushing over to take our orders.

“I’ll have another of my usual.” He says, looking at me expectantly, a challenge in his eyes.

“I’ll have the same.”

The waiter brings out two drinks and places them on the table. As I pick it up, the overwhelmingly strong smell burns my nose.

“What is this?”

“Just trust me.” He says with a smile.

“I just met you.”

“Fair.” A challenge burns in his eyes. “You don’t have to drink it.”

I take a deep breath. This could be my way in. It’s a challenge. He wants to see if I can handle it. 

Before I can overthink it, I pick up the glass and take a sip. The liquid burns it’s way all the way down to my stomach, spreading like hot flames through my body. I wait for a second. Nothing happens. I take another sip.

“See?” He smirks. “What did I tell you?”

The next hour is spent drinking, dancing, and talking. Whenever I get close to finding out more about him, his walls go up higher. I am however, able to exchange numbers.

It‘s nearly 2:00am by the time I leave. As soon as Mitch sees me, he bursts out laughing.

“Shut up!” I playfully swing out  my shoes at his arm.

“I’ve just never seen you get drunk before in the fifteen years I’ve known you!”

“That’s because I don’t drink!”

“Could’ve fooled me!”

Twenty minutes later, I‘m staggering into my apartment.

I barely made it to the bed before everything goes black.

I wake up to the sound of pots and pans banging in the kitchen. I jump out of bed, instantly regretting it as my head pounds. I quietly make my way to my safe and retrieve my gun before heading to the kitchen.

“Freeze!”

There, standing in front of me, is a startled Mitch. His hands fly up and he drops the eggs on the floor.

“So, this is the thanks I get for trying to do something nice for my hungover friend?”

My cheeks burn from embarrassment as I slowly lower the gun.

“You need more eggs by the way.”

My eyes travel from him, to the mess on the floor, then back to him.

“Thanks Captain Obvious.”

“Hey!” Mitch puts his hands up in mock surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger!”

His eyes travel to the gun, still in my hand and I unsuccessfully stifle a laugh.

His eyes travel from the gun to me, his eyes darkening. 

Suddenly, I realize that I’m barely wearing more than a tank top and underwear.

I feel the heat rise in my cheeks. “I’m gonna go change.” And with an awkward laugh, I retreat back to my room.

When I return to the kitchen, I’m fully clothed and breakfast is waiting for me on the table.

“Well, I was going to make you bacon and eggs, but since you made me drop them, I made pancakes instead.”

I take a seat at the table, wincing at the pounding in my head.

“Here.” Mitch says, holding out two aspirin and a glass of orange juice. 

“Thanks.” I say, eagerly taking the pills from his hands and swallowing, chasing them down with some orange juice.

“I thought I told you that key was for emergencies!”

“It was an emergency!” He smiles, and I feel my cheeks heat up. “I couldn’t leave you alone after having your first hangover!”

“It wasn’t my first hangover!”

“Really?” He asks, raising a questioning eyebrow. “Name one time you’ve ever been drunk!”

I wrack my brain, trying to think of a time, but came up empty.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

“So what?! I was always the designated driver!”

“Exactly my point!”

I roll my eyes in annoyance, not wanting to admit anything more.

“Eat.” He says. “It’ll make you feel better.”

Slowly, I take a bite of a pancake, a welcome burst of flavour in my mouth. 

“Don’t eat too much though!” He said. “We want it to stay down.”

I roll my eyes again, not in the mood for his jokes.

It’s long before I‘m throwing up.

“I hate to be that guy, but I told you so.”

“You love to be that guy!” I say, wiping my mouth and wetting my toothbrush.

“You’re right!” He says, a smirk on his face. “I do enjoy being right!”

That gets another eye roll from me.

“Are you done?”

He sighs. “Yeah, okay.”

“Good.”

With that, I walk out of the bathroom just as my phone starts ringing.

“Hello?”

“Hey princess.”

His voice sends a thrill through my body.

“Who is it?” Mitch whispers.

I mouth “Hunter”.

Mitch silently sits on the bed beside me as I put it on speakerphone.

“Hunter! Nice to hear from you!”

“I know I should’ve waited longer before calling, but I just can’t stop thinking about you.”

He’s smooth.

“Yeah?” I reply. “Only good things I hope.”

His voice turns low and smooth. “The best!”

“Hmmm.” I say in mock consideration. “I like the sound of that.”

“Me and the gang are racing tonight.” He says. “Wanna come?”

I look over at Mitch and he’s nodding enthusiastically.

“Sure.” I say in my sexiest voice. “Sounds like fun.”

“Where should I pick you up?”

I can’t tell him where I live! And I might need backup.

“Why don’t I meet you there?” I ask.

“Are you sure, I can—”

“No! It’s fine!” I cut him off before he has the chance to say anything else. I wrack my brain for an excuse. “It’s fine… I just…” I stutter.

“It’s fine!” He laughs. “I get it!”

“You do?”

“Yeah!” He says. “You don’t trust me!”

“No, it’s just that—” I stumble to find the words.

“Don’t worry!” He says, his voice becoming low and gravelly. “You shouldn’t trust me!”

“I shouldn’t?”

“No!” His laugh is low and sends chills down my spine. “Not yet, anyways.”

The suggestion in his voice piques my curiosity.

“Yet?”

“I’ll do everything I can to earn your trust sweetheart.” He says. “I like a challenge.”

I can hear an unspoken challenge in his voice.

“So do I.” 

“Good.” He says. “Then we’re on the same page.”

“Yup.” I say nervously. “Looks like it!”

“I’ll text you the address.”

And with that, the line goes dead.