The Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club, Books 1-3 (106 page)

His hand was cool on her skin, his body warm against her. She didn't know how long he held her, but she knew he would never let go until she asked.

“Thank you.” She tilted her head back, met his gaze as she brought her hand up and swept the long dark strands of hair from his face. So handsome. So perfect. She ran her fingers over the hard planes and angles of his cheekbones, trailing them slowly over his jaw, rough with a five o'clock shadow.

“Pleasure.”

She leaned towards him and brushed her lips against his. He responded with a gentle kiss, tracing her lips with his tongue then dipping into her mouth.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

She waited until his footsteps faded away and then fell back on the bed. How the hell was she going to keep this up? It was everything she could do not to run after him and tell him she'd changed her mind. He'd just shown her that the Zane she had loved—the sensitive, caring Zane who knew her better than she knew herself—was still there, hiding beneath the leather cut and the cool exterior. Part of her wanted to cuddle up to him in her bed with his strong arms wrapped around her, and feed that longing to feel safe and secure, but the other part wasn't prepared to give up control in any other part of her life. If she let her guard down, if their connection felt too good, she would just be setting herself up for more pain when he disappointed her again. And although she felt a deep connection to Zane that went beyond the child they shared, she had lost her trust and faith in relationships.

Intimacy and connection only lead to pain. And she'd had enough pain to last a lifetime.

 

FOURTEEN

Try and try again. Don't think you're stupid if it doesn't go right the first time. Even experts make mistakes.

—SINNER'S TRIBE MOTORCYCLE REPAIR MANUAL

Someone was watching him.

Zane slid his hand under the cushion and grabbed his weapon. He had only just fallen asleep after tossing and turning all night on the couch, wondering what the hell had gone wrong with Evie, or whether, in fact, it had gone right.

Did he really want to get involved? He'd been on his own so long he couldn't imagine integrating not just a woman, but a kid into his life. And what kind of life did he have to offer? If he'd thought himself unworthy of Evie back in Stanton, he certainly hadn't improved the situation by becoming an outlaw biker. Wasn't it better to have dealt with the sexual tension between them so they could both move on? The answer came in a heartbeat. There was no other woman for him. He'd been searching for her since the day he left Stanton, and now that he'd found her, he wouldn't let her go.

But first, there was a threat to deal with, and Evie and Ty were under his protection.

In one smooth motion, he rolled off the couch and onto his feet, his weapon pointed in the direction of the shallow breaths that had awoken him. It took him a moment to register the face in front of him, a mini mirror image of his own.

“Don't shoot me.” Ty covered his face with his arms. “I didn't mean to wake you up.”

Christ. Talk about the wrong way to start the day
. He placed the weapon in its holster across his chest, and fell back on the couch, drawing in a calming breath as adrenaline surged through his body. “Sorry about that. Not used to people sneaking up on me. You got quiet feet, but loud breathing.”

“Is that good?” Ty lowered his arms, his thin wrists protruding from his Batman pajamas.
Good choice
. Batman had always been Zane's favorite superhero. Dark, secretive, isolated, not given to overt displays of emotion. But the whole Robin thing … he didn't need that lame-ass sidekick.

“You want to keep your presence hidden, you got to breathe through your nose, quiet like. Become one with the room. Even then, people can sense when they aren't alone, so standing in plain view isn't the best plan.”

“I wasn't trying to hide. I was just seeing if you were awake.” Ty's eyes drifted to the gun. “Is that real? Can I hold it?”

“Yeah it's real. Can't protect you if I got a play gun.” He pulled the gun from its holster and removed the magazine, then handed it to Ty.

“Who are you protecting us from?” Ty pointed the gun at Zane and pulled the trigger. Sweat beaded on Zane's brow, and he silently congratulated himself for having the foresight to remove the magazine as opposed to just putting on the safety, even as he fought the urge to dive behind the couch, an instinctive response after what seemed a lifetime of gunfights with the Jacks.

“Bad guys.” He gently pushed Ty's hand down so the gun pointed at the floor. “This isn't a toy. You point a gun at a man, you gotta be prepared to kill him.” His pulse slowed and he wiped his brow. Lesson number one. Kids didn't have a lot of common sense. Or maybe his son wanted to scare him to death. So far he was two for two this morning.

“Aren't you a bad guy? I thought all bikers were bad. I see them on the news 'cause they blow up buildings and set fires and hurt people.” Ty handed the gun back to Zane, then spun around and walked around the room, holding his fingers in the form of a make-believe gun. He aimed at the vase on the kitchen table, then the window, then Evie's bedroom door. “Pow. Pow. Pow.”

“Sometimes people hurt you and you gotta teach them a lesson so they don't do it again.” Zane shifted on the couch. Did Ty need to learn those lessons yet? Wasn't he too young?

“Pow.” Ty pressed his fingers to the back of Zane's head.

“Jesus Christ.” Zane leaped off the couch, heart thudding in his chest. “You gotta learn to be careful with weapons. Even pretend ones.”

Ty's face fell, and his bottom lip quivered. “Sorry.”

Fuck. Five minutes and he'd already screwed this up. He handed his gun back to Ty. “Here. I'll show you how to handle it properly.”

For the next half hour, he showed Ty how to hold and carry a gun and load the magazine. He told him about the safety and how to aim at a target. He explained about recoil and how someone without much strength would have to brace against the backward thrust after a shot. Ty caught on pretty fast, considering he was only eight years old. When he held the gun perfectly balanced, his stance relaxed and his arms braced for an imaginary recoil, Zane felt a sting of pride. His son was no pansy. He'd get him out to a shooting range and—

“What's going on? Ty! Put down that gun.”

Maybe not.

*   *   *

By the time Zane reached the clubhouse, the executive board was in session. Shooter and two senior patch members were at the safehouse keeping watch. Zane had checked all the locks and run a perimeter around Sparky's shop before he left to make sure there were no Jacks hanging around. Evie had been more bemused than angry to find Ty learning to use a gun, and after Zane cooked them breakfast she seemed to forgive him. Still, there was an undeniable tension in the air, and he wondered if she regretted what they'd done last night.

He hadn't intended for things to go as far as they did, and although he had relished the feeling of being intimate with her again, it was the time after, when she'd come to him for comfort, that told him what he wanted to know. She needed him. And even though he'd fucked up, she trusted him with her body, and maybe even with a little of her heart.

Jagger gave him a curt nod and brought him up to speed. Tank and two of the junior patch had been out all night, hunting down leads on T-Rex. Their sources suggested Viper had an underground dungeon at his clubhouse, but because no one had ever left it alive, they didn't have any details.

As expected, Viper refused to trade Doreen for T-Rex. Undeterred, Jagger had tabled a motion to defy National, the Sinners' mother chapter, and go ahead with a raid on the Jacks' clubhouse, not just to rescue T-Rex but to put down the Jacks for good.

“All in favor.” Jagger lifted his hand and all the board members followed suit without hesitation.

“We need someone inside now,” Gunner said. “We can't wait for National's approval. I know Cade's been working up local Black Jack suppliers, trying to find someone who owes us a favor—”

Cade shook his head. “No luck so far. A favor isn't worth the risk of being caught by the Jacks.”

“What about Mario?” Zane rocked back in his chair. He hated board meetings. They were the worst part of his role as VP. Give him his bike and the open road and he was a happy man, but sitting around the table, taking hours to make a decision he and Jagger could have made in three seconds, grated on him something fierce. Gunner shared his view. Always on the move, the club's sergeant-at-arms could rarely sit through an entire meeting, and he was already on his feet, pacing the room as he spoke.

“We burned down his restaurant,” Gunner said. “He won't be taking any risks for us.”

Zane would have killed to pace the room with him, but as VP he was forced to maintain decorum. “I had some of the junior patch check him out when we first talked about getting someone inside. The only reason the Jacks took over his restaurant, aside from the fact he's a good cook, is 'cause he owed them fifty large that he gambled away. Even though the restaurant is gone, the Jacks won't wipe out the debt. They still think he owes them.”

Gunner nodded, following Zane's train of thought. “What if he offers his services as a personal chef to Viper? Once we get the intel we need from him, we give him the cash, he pays them off and we help him disappear.”

“That's a huge risk and a lot of cash,” Cade said. “I mean, what if he cooks up a bad meal and Viper decides to off him 'cause he doesn't like shrimp?”

“You ever have a bad meal at Mario's?” Gunner licked his lips. “He's a genius. The things he can do with salmon are fucking sinful.”

“Christ. We're not interested in hearing about your kink,” Sparky said, his nose wrinkling in mock disgust.

Zane bit back a smile. “Maybe Mario shoulda thought about the risk when he borrowed fifty grand from the Jacks.” Just like he should have thought about the risk of what he'd done with Evie last night. But she was as much an addiction for him as gambling clearly was for Mario, and one taste wasn't enough.

Jagger drummed his fingers on the boardroom table, once a fancy dining table, now carved with the Sinner logo and stained with coffee rings. “Without the restaurant to pay off the debt, he's out of options. He knows the Jacks will be coming to him for the money, and with all the connections they have now there's nowhere he can run. I like the plan. Everyone vote.” All hands went up and Cade and Tank offered to pay Mario a discreet visit that afternoon.

“Don't forget the party tonight,” Jagger said after he officially ended the meeting. “We're having it at Sparky's shop instead of Rider's Bar because it's more secure.”

“It's not right,” Tank grumbled. “We shouldn't be partying when T-Rex is being held prisoner.”

“I hear you, brother.” Jagger clapped him on the shoulder. “But this is the best way to get everyone fired up about the rescue mission, and to make sure we're all still thinking about T-Rex. This party is about him. We're gonna toast him and pledge to do what it takes to bring him back. But we're going to need that Sinner bond to be as damned strong as it can be before we go in. I've made one last offer to Viper. If he turns it down and we have to raid the Black Jack clubhouse to get him out, I can't promise all of us will come back without a few scratches.”

After the meeting broke up, Zane headed down to the basement with Dax to interrogate Doreen. Assuming T-Rex was in the Black Jack clubhouse, they needed more information before launching a full-on assault, and Doreen was the key to getting T-Rex out alive.

“These are the moments I live for,” Dax said as they descended the stairs to the basement. “Torture sessions and the time I spend with my family.”

“You're one sick fuck.” And yet, last night with Evie … this morning with Ty … he wouldn't trade those moments for the world. But Evie kept trying to push him away. Should he respect her wishes and back off? What the fuck did he know about being a dad? Or being in a relationship when his loyalty was to the club? Christ, it was all fucked up. Good thing he was with a brother who specialized in this very thing.

“So, I got this friend…”

“You don't have friends.” Dax laughed as they stepped out into the games room. “You have brothers. And brothers look out for each other. Jagger already told me what went down ‘cause he was worried about you, and he didn't want anyone getting hurt.” He paused at the bottom of the stairs. “So, to recap, you found your long lost girl who turns out to be Viper's girl. You decided to steal her away, but you don't know if you want her or she wants you. You got a son you didn't know about, and the whole shebang scares the shit out of you 'cause who the hell can prepare themselves to be a dad when they don't even know it's coming?”

Zane bristled. “I'm not scared.”

“Then you're not human.” Dax ran his hand through his dark hair, slicked back to show off his widow's, peak. “I was scared shitless the first time Sandy got pregnant, and I had nine months to prepare and the love of my life to catch me when I fell. And boy did I fall. First month, I took every job Jagger had on offer just to get away. But Sandy set me straight. One night I came home and she dumped Jett in my arms and told me it was her turn for a month off. Then she walked out the door. I didn't know she was just stayin' next door with her friend. But hell, by the end of the night, Jett was still breathing, and I was feeling pretty damn good about myself. Sandy came back the next day and I told Jagger I'd be slowing things down for a while.”

“He's not a baby.” Zane leaned against the worn pool table that had seen one too many games. His gaze flicked to the wet bar in the corner. If he didn't need his wits about him to interrogate Doreen, he would be over there pouring himself a shot of the good stuff. “He's eight. I missed…” His throat tightened. “All that.”