The Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club, Books 1-3 (119 page)

“Fuck off you fucking bitch.” Doreen shrieked. “The minute I get outta here, I'm coming for you. It's your face I'm gonna cut up first. I'm gonna make it so Jagger gets fucking sick every time he looks at you. Then I'm going after the dark one who snatched me. It'll be a slice and dice. This fucking clubhouse is gonna run red with Sinner blood. I'm saving Jagger for last. He'll be a present for Viper. I'll deliver him all wrapped up in a bow made of your sweet little girl's hair.”

“Our world,” Arianne said quietly. She gestured Evie toward the stairs. “You have to be strong to survive. But we do have rules and a code. And we have our own rough brand of justice.”

Still shaken by Doreen's outburst, Evie paused on the stairs. “But how do people with kids handle this kind of life?”

“You should talk to Dawn, or Dax's old lady, Sandy,” she said. “Or any of the other old ladies. Most of them choose to keep their family life separate from the club. And that's fine. There are no rules for old ladies. It's whatever works for them. And yeah, sometimes their men come home battered, bruised, and broken, but that happens to civilians, too. Boxers, fighters, stuntmen … they all put themselves in danger. The old ladies patch them up, give them heck, and then love them until they do it again. It's the risk we take to live this life. It's what we do to survive. But it's a life of freedom, honor, loyalty, and brotherhood; a life where you make the rules.”

“You love this life.”

Arianne's face softened. “Yes, I do. Although I almost gave it up to get away from Viper. But then I met Jagger, and I found a way to make it work for me. That's the thing about love. It makes the impossible possible. And it won't be denied.”

 

TWENTY-ONE

If you take it apart, and you can't put it back together, don't panic. Walk away, clear your head, then start again.

—SINNER'S TRIBE MOTORCYCLE REPAIR MANUAL

Evie drove up to the Sinner clubhouse and parked outside. She hadn't been back for over a week, and she hoped the impromptu visit didn't ruffle any feathers. Although Zane had come by Connie's place several times to visit Ty, her son wanted to spend more time with his dad. Since they were passing by the clubhouse on their way home from a day in the mountains, she'd agreed to a brief stop to see if he was around when she couldn't get in touch by phone.

She waved to Shooter and Tank, tinkering with their bikes out front, and turned off the Sinner SUV Zane had insisted she keep as a matter of safety. The raid on the Black Jack clubhouse had been delayed because of the increased presence of the ATF in Conundrum, drawn by the spate of fires and the explosion at the coffee shop. For now, everyone had to lay low, although Zane had gone scouting around the Black Jack clubhouse, this time with executive board approval, to try and figure out if they could try to get T-Rex out with a two- or three-man operation.

“Can I get out, mom?” Ty didn't wait for her answer, but pushed open the door. Connie jumped out after him and they headed over to talk to Tank who they hadn't seen since returning to the safe house.

Shortly after moving in with Connie and trying to get back to her regular life, Evie received her first lesson about keeping the police out of biker business. The morning after contacting the police to report her car stolen, she'd awoken to find her vehicle burned out and wrapped around a street light beside Connie's driveway with the Black Jack initials spray painted on the remains. The Sinners had arrived with a flatbed truck to take it away and Connie, Ty, and Evie were moved back to the safe house above Sparky's shop.

Concerned about Evie's biker clients ratting her out to the Jacks, Jagger had convinced her to hold back on reopening her business in a new location. As a result, she'd kept herself busy painting Sinner bikes, talking to insurance adjusters, and trying to find a new home for her business from inside Sparky's shop. With too much time on her hands, and after hitting her quota of video games with Ty, she'd gone through her scrapbooks and reminisced about the time she and Zane had spent together.

They didn't talk now, except about Ty, and she missed him so much she ached. Although she was still wary about the life he led, now that she'd had some time to think, she was beginning to warm to the idea that the Sinners weren't all bad. But she'd hurt Zane by walking away and she didn't know how to mend the rift between them.

“He's not here.” Ty ran toward her as she rounded the vehicle, Tank in tow. “Tank says he's gone away.”

Usually the first with a smile, Tank shifted his feet and looked away. “Club business. Doesn't get shared with old ladies or civilians.” He held out his hand to Ty and raised an inquiring eyebrow. “You wanna shoot some hoops before you head out? I gotta escort a lady to a car, then I can meet you out back.”

Evie nodded at Ty's silent query and watched him race across the lawn.

“How do the old ladies do it?” she asked Connie. “If club business isn't shared with old ladies, then they never know what's going to happen when the brothers go out. Maybe they're just going for a drink, or maybe it's a shootout, or a suicidal raid on the Black Jack clubhouse. I couldn't deal with that uncertainty. I'd be an emotional wreck. And what if someone came after me or Ty when we were alone? I'm not like Arianne. I couldn't stab or shoot anyone.”

“Um … hello.” Connie waved a hand in front of Evie's face. “You stabbed Vipe when he was…” She choked on her words. “Hurting Bill. And if you'd had a knife when you found out Jagger was the one who beat the shit out of Zane, I have no doubt you would have used it. You didn't faint or collapse on the floor weeping like some kinda drama queen.”

Connie brushed back her hair. She'd worn a tank top and a cute pair of very short shorts to go hiking in the unseasonably warm weather and Tank hadn't given her a second look. Evie wondered if he'd bowed out because of Sparky.

“I've never been the drama queen type.”

Connie laughed. “It sounds like you're not worried anymore about the red patches on his cut.”

“I don't think he does that part of it for kicks. At heart, he's still the same Zane.”

“I don't think any of them like that part.” Connie tugged at her top when Tank waved from the porch. “Far as I can tell, they're pretty decent guys, except for Shaggy, Shooter, and a couple of the others who are certifiably wacko.”

Tank and Hacker emerged from the clubhouse holding a blond woman between them.

“Who's that?” Connie gave her a nudge. “She looks spitting mad.”

“Get your fucking paws off me,” the woman snarled as they drew near. “Your damn pathetic clubhouse is in the middle of fucking nowhere. It's not like I can run away.”

Evie sucked in a sharp breath. “That's Doreen, the woman from the dungeon. They must be letting her go.”

Doreen's hair was a disheveled mess of blond curls, and her long, angular face was pale and wan. Although taller than both Evie and Connie, her thin frame gave her an almost skeletal appearance save for her generous, perfectly-shaped breasts, which Evie doubted were real.

“I'd let her go, too with a mouth like that,” Connie said. “She puts the Sinners to shame, and since I've been hanging around with them, I have to say that's no easy feat.”

They stood aside as Shooter drove up in a black Chrysler 300C. He left it running and raced around to open the passenger door for Doreen.

“What the fuck is this?” Doreen sneered at Connie and Evie. “A good-bye party from the girl scouts?”

“I'm Evie. I talked to you downstairs.”

Doreen stared at her for a long moment, and then she tilted her head to the side. “You got red hair. And your name … Evie. Is that short for something?”

“Evangeline.”

Doreen's eyes widened and the look she gave Evie was cold, calculating. “You're the one Viper wants. No one could figure it out but now I get it. He wants a taste of the other side. Innocence. Soft and sweet. Tell me, little kitten, when he pets your widdle pussy do you purr?”

Evie recoiled, her nose wrinkling in disgust. Doreen laughed and moved toward Shooter, standing by the open door.

“Aren't you the looker?” She leaned up, her breasts brushing against his chest. “Lucky me. Jagger sent the young blood to take me home. A couple of junior patch and you just gotta be a prospect. Even if it wasn't written on your cut, I can smell the newness on you.”

Shooter narrowed his eyes. “Back off, bitch.”

Evie had never seen anyone move as fast, but before Shooter could push her away, Doreen yanked one of his weapons from its holster, spun, and held it to Evie's head.

“Evie!” Connie took a step forward as Hacker and Tank drew their weapons. Doreen pushed Evie in front of her, using her as a shield.

“Don't come any closer or I'll off the little kitten right here, right now. Serves Jagger right for sending a buncha boys to do a man's job.” She gestured to Connie and tipped her chin at the 300C. “Open the passenger door.”

“She has a little boy,” Connie said. “Why don't you take me?”

“I got a little boy, too, and the Sinners threw me in the fucking dungeon. Kids aren't part of this.” Doreen ushered Evie into the vehicle, making her climb over the center console to the driver's seat, seemingly oblivious to the guns trained on her back.

“You're the one Viper wants,” she said, sliding into the passenger seat beside Evie. “And I'm gonna give you to him all wrapped up with a pretty little bow.”

*   *   *

Zane had always wanted to destroy a police car. However, the crunch of glass under his bat, although supremely satisfying, didn't solve the bigger problem. T-Rex wasn't free.

“What. The. Fuck?” He slammed the bat on the hood of Benson's vehicle over and over again until Jagger pulled him away and walked him a few feet down the dirt road near the Black Jack clubhouse.

He was losing it. Big time. But a week of seeing Evie and not being able to touch her, brief conversations about Ty and nothing else, and the possibility of a future limited by the damn warrant over his head, which meant a civilian life with her wasn't an option, had finally taken their toll. Deputy Benson was damn lucky it was only the car bearing the brunt of Zane's frustration. After all, he'd just screwed up big-time.

“I told you where the dungeon was.” Zane hefted the bat, and scowled at Benson. “You were supposed to tip off the ATF then go in with our ATF mole.”

Benson had the good grace to look uncomfortable. “I was there. And I still can't believe Jagger pulled in that favor. Having someone in the ATF in your pocket could have saved you from some real deep shit more than once.”

Wrenching himself out of Jagger's grasp, Zane stalked across the road where he and a handful of brothers had been hiding, expecting Benson to return with T-Rex. He grabbed Benson by the collar. “You saying T-Rex isn't worth a favor?”

“Of course not.” Benson struggled to free himself from Zane's grip. “But it was a waste of a favor because Viper was ready for them. Someone must have tipped him off. The place was virtually empty. There were only a handful of bikes in the parking lot, and I'm pretty sure if the Black Jacks' attorney hadn't made mincemeat out of the warrant, they wouldn't have found any guns or drugs.”

“They woulda found fucking T-Rex,” Zane spat out. “You should have done something. Fucking waste of a mark.”

“Easy, brother.” Jagger loosened Zane's grip on Benson's neck. “We'll find another way.”

Zane flung the bat across the grass bordering the road. “I should've just gone on my own. Snuck in while everyone was distracted. I coulda been in and outta there with T-Rex by now.”

“Not a chance.” Benson loosened the collar of his blue police shirt. “Even though it's pretty much deserted, that place is like a fortress, and they've left all their guards. We passed through an electric fence, dogs, a metal detector, and a slab of muscle at the door just to get into the clubhouse. They have cameras everywhere.”

“I don't need to get
into
the clubhouse.” Zane wiped the sweat from his temple. “The door is on the outside.”

“We can try another day,” Benson said.

Jagger and Zane shared a glance and Zane's tension eased. They were on the same page. They'd waited too long already. Today was the day and if Plan A didn't work, then they would move to Plan B.

“I think we need to take advantage of the opportunity we bought ourselves.” Jagger mused, rubbing his brow. “The club is running on a skeleton staff and they'll have moved their weapons. We need a distraction. Something to keep them busy while we cut the fence and go inside. I was thinking—”

“Runaway truck filled with explosives?” Cade joined them beside the wrecked police car.

“That's getting old.” Jagger chuckled. “I was thinking of a full-on assault.”

Cade raised his brows. “Suicide.”

“Not if we're in the hills with sniper rifles.” Zane took the plan, rolled with it. “We can set up a roadblock by the bridge. Sparky's still got a truck in his shop from the last transport job. We'll park it sideways and toss the keys.”

“What about the electric fence?” Cade had offered to be Zane's second when they'd first talked about breaching the perimeter. “It's twenty-five feet high and has 10,000 volts running through it. They're not gonna turn it off once we start shooting. Only way it goes off is if the gate is open.”

“Ram the gate,” Benson said. “That can be part of the distraction. Get me a truck and I'll do it. I'm a dead man anyway once the sheriff or the ATF figure out the tip came from me. They're already suspicious because of some of the work I've been doing for you. T-Rex is a good kid, and if this helps end the war between the clubs and saves lives, it's worth the risk.” He held up a hand when Zane opened his mouth. “And before you try to talk me out of it, I'm not going in there actually thinking I'm gonna die. I'll go in armed and in a vest, and I'll bail at the earliest opportunity. But, yeah, there's a risk, and if I come out of it alive, I want something from you.”