Page 124 of Monk

His fist connected with the agent’s jaw. Once. Twice. Three times. Blood sprayed across the floor, splattering the polished wood in dark red droplets. The agent’s nose was already broken, bent at an unnatural angle, and his lip was split wide open.

“KANSAS, NO!” Kali screamed, her voice raw with terror and desperation as agents swarmed him immediately, grabbing his arms, his shoulders, his waist, trying to pull him off. But Kansas wasn’t stopping. He was a man possessed, consumed by protective fury. He threw an elbow backwards, catching one agent square in the ribs, and I heard the satisfying grunt of pain as the man stumbled back. Kansas swung again at the man on the ground, his knuckles connecting with the agent’s cheekbone with a crack.

“YOU DON’T FUCKING TOUCH HER! YOU HEAR ME? YOU DON’T FUCKING TOUCH HER!”

It took four agents to finally drag him off, their hands gripping him like vises, and even then, he was still fighting, still thrashing against their hold, still shouting, his face twisted with rage and streaked with sweat. His chest heaved with each breath, his knuckles were split and bleeding, and his eyes were wild—absolutely wild—as he stared down at the agent who was still on the ground, groaning and clutching his shattered face.

“Cuff him!” someone shouted.

“Kansas!” Angel moved forward, but an agent shoved him back, a gun pressed to his chest.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Widow’s hands were already up, his expression murderous but controlled. Neville looked like he was two seconds away from doing something stupid. And Kali was on the couch, sobbing, her arms wrapped around her stomach, her entire body shaking.

I moved without thinking, crossing the room and dropping to my knees in front of her. “Kali, look at me,” I said, my voicesteady despite the chaos around us. “Look at me. Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t know. My stomach.”

“Okay. Okay, we’re going to get you help. I promise.” I turned toward the nearest agent, my voice cutting through the noise like a blade. “I need an ambulance.Now.”

The agent looked at me like I’d just asked him to fly. “Ma’am, you need to step back.”

“She’s pregnant and she was just assaulted by one of your agents,” I said, my voice rising. “If you don’t call an ambulanceright now, I will personally ensure that every single one of you spends the next decade in court defending a lawsuit for excessive force, assault on a pregnant woman, and violation of civil rights. Do I make myself clear?”

The agent hesitated.

“Now,” I repeated, my tone leaving no room for argument.

He pulled out his radio. “Dispatch, we need an ambulance at the Diamondback clubhouse. Pregnant female, possible injury.”

I turned back to Kali, brushing her hair out of her face. “You’re going to be okay. The baby’s going to be okay.”

She nodded, but I could see the fear in her eyes. Behind me, I heard the metallic click of handcuffs snapping into place. Kansas was on his knees now, his hands cuffed behind his back, blood dripping from his knuckles. The agent he’d punched was still on the floor, unconscious, his face a mess of blood and swelling.

“You have the right to remain silent,” one of the agents said, his voice mechanical. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

“Where’s the warrant?” I demanded, standing and turning toward the lead agent.

He was standing near the bar, watching the chaos with a satisfied expression. “Excuse me?” he said, his tone condescending.

“The warrant,” I repeated, walking toward him. “You said you have a warrant. I want to see it.”

He smirked. “And who the hell are you?”

“Carolina Wilcox,” I said, my voice cold and professional. “I’m the legal counsel for the Diamondback MC and everyone associated with it. And unless you show me that warrantright now, I’m going to file a motion to suppress every single piece of evidence you collect here on the grounds of unlawful search and seizure.”

The smirk faltered.

“I’m also going to file a formal complaint with the Department of Justice regarding your agent’s assault on a pregnant woman,” I continued, stepping closer. “And I’m going to ensure that every news outlet in Oklahoma knows that the ATF stormed a private residence without proper cause, brutalized a pregnant woman, and violated the constitutional rights of every person in this building.”

The agent’s jaw tightened.

“So, I’ll ask you again,” I said, my voice dropping to a deadly calm. “Where. Is. The. Warrant?”

He stared at me for a long moment. Then he reached into his vest and pulled out a folded document, shoving it toward me. I took it, unfolding it quickly and scanning the contents.Fuck.It was legitimate. Federal warrant. Signed by a judge. Probable cause listed as “conspiracy to transport illegal firearms across state lines.”

My stomach sank.