The Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club, Books 1-3 (72 page)

BOOK: The Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club, Books 1-3
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“She didn't call after her shift to let me know she was home and she's not answering her phone. I thought maybe she was with you.”

“Maybe the bus broke down.”

“I called the bus company,” she snapped. “The busses are all running on time. I'm worried, Cade. It's not like her to forget to call.”

That warning prickle returned, but worse, and his heart raced like he was running a damn marathon. Cade closed his eyes and tried to pull it together. But he couldn't shake the damn past: memories of his mother's face covered in bruises, her body limp on the floor, her arm in a cast, bandages on her head; the nights he spent sitting with her in the hospital. Abusive guys like Mad Dog—like his dad—never let go and they never gave up.

“Gunner and I were about to head over that way for a party. We can swing by her place.”

“Hurry, Cade. Something's wrong.”

 

SEVENTEEN

I may not always agree with my brother, but he is always my brother.

SINNER'S TRIBE CREED

A family.

Yes, she'd always wanted a family like she'd had before the car crash, but when she imagined a family it was much like what she'd had at the zoo: her children playing in the sunshine, and a partner who made her laugh, someone who respected her need for independence, but was there when she needed him.

“You don't know what a family is.”

A shadow crossed his face so quickly she wondered if she'd imagined it, but when he spoke, his voice was gentle, the same voice he'd used when he coaxed her off the streets with promises of a better life, the voice he used on the good days just before everything turned bad.

“I've got a gun in my cut, love. If I wanted to kill you I would've done it already. But I want you back. I miss you … and the girls. A president needs a family so the old boys think he's stable and … settled. And … the money. It doesn't all belong to me.”

As if she would ever believe him. The red wheal on her hand from his belt and years of hospital visits had taught her that the soft words were usually followed by a hard beating, and she hadn't missed the hesitation before he mentioned the girls. He didn't want them. Never had. And he was crazy if he thought she had any money.

“Slide your weapon across the floor to me. And your belt. When I've got them, I'll call Wolf and he can send someone to pick you up.”

Jimmy's smile didn't reach his ears. “That's my girl.”

A loud thud on the door startled them both. Jimmy froze and drew his weapon. Resting against the wall directly across from her in the living room, he was in clear sight of the door.

“Who the fuck is that?”

“Dawn!”

She recognized Cade's voice and her lips quivered with a smile. “Maybe it's the mailman.”

“It's Cade. Open the door.”

“I knew it.” Jimmy's harsh voice echoed in the tiny room. “You are fucking that Sinner. You betraying little bitch. That's why you wouldn't come back. You were spreading your legs like the whore you really are. Open the damn door. I'm gonna blow so many holes in him you won't be able to find his dick.”

Dawn glanced around the room, assessing potential places to hide. The kitchen lay behind her, visible through the opening at the breakfast bar, but accessible only if she could make the ten feet to the door. The small hallway leading to the bathroom and the bedrooms was directly across from the front door and also in Jimmy's line of fire. If Jimmy started shooting, her best bet for cover was the couch beside her.

Jimmy put a finger to his lips. His black eyes gleamed and she knew right away if she'd gone to help him he would have found a way to hurt her. Drawing in a ragged breath, she threw herself behind the couch and screamed. “Jimmy's here. He's down but armed and at nine o'clock from the door.”

Silence.

And then the door splintered and Jimmy fired.

*   *   *

“You can't kill him.”

Plastered against the walls on either side of the front door, Gunner and Cade shared a glance.

“He just fired at us.” Cade kept his voice to a low murmur. “We have to defend ourselves. My old lady is a hostage inside. Of course we can kill him.”

“Jagger says no.” Gunner lowered his phone. “He gave his word to Wolf that we wouldn't touch Mad Dog. He wants us to go in, rescue her, and get out before the cops show up.”

“Do you hear sirens?” Cade checked his magazine. “The cops aren't coming. No one heard the shot. There's no one on the street and I didn't see any lights go on. Not even a dog barked.”

Gunner twisted his lips to the side. “How 'bout we do as Jagger said and try and get her out without killing him?”

“He's a threat to my old lady. I have a right to defend her and Wolf's not gonna be able to say dick about it. No one fucks with a biker's old lady.” Cade peered around the corner and a bullet zinged past his head, embedding itself in the wall behind him.

“Fuck.” Gunner sighed. “Where is she?”

“She's behind the couch in the middle of the room, directly across from him and slightly to the right of the door, maybe twenty feet away. There's a small hallway between the living room and us. She's got her gun.”

“I'll distract him and you get her out.” Gunner took a step toward the entrance.

“You get her out and I'll kill him.”

“Jesus, Cade.” Gunner exhaled an exasperated sigh. “He's down and injured, and we've got a clear run to Dawn and out again. We won't be able to spin this in a way that justifies taking him out. The Brethren election is only a week away. We'll patch them over and then we'll go after him together. We've come this far. Why risk it all now? If Wolf calls Jagger out for breaking his word, we'll be done for.”

Sirens wailed in the distance. Maybe the neighbors were more vigilant than he thought. And although he wanted Mad Dog dead so badly he could taste it, Gunner had a good point. Could he put the club at risk over a matter of seven days? But how could he let Mad Dog live after what he'd done? Never had he been so conflicted about his duty to the club. Never had he questioned the creed.

Sensing his hesitation, Gunner checked the magazine in his semi-automatic and raised his weapon. “She's your girl. I'll cover. You rescue. And by the way, you're gonna owe me big time if the twins ditch us tonight.”

“Get over it. You love shooting things.”

“This ain't the weapon I was planning on shooting tonight, brother.”

Brother.

He couldn't let his brothers down.
I will follow the creed before I follow my heart.

Cade tensed, adrenaline pounding through his veins as he mentally prepared himself to go in, grab Dawn, and get out with succumbing to the almost overwhelming desire to get rid of Mad Dog for once and for all. “If your aim is a little off and you hit Mad Dog by mistake…”

“I don't make mistakes.” Gunner stepped into the doorway and fired, his bullets thudding into the wall above Mad Dog's head. Cade dived past him and landed behind the couch beside Dawn. Although pale, she appeared remarkably together given the circumstances.

“Rescue time. Stay low and head for the door.” He jumped up and fired a few random shots to keep Mad Dog occupied while Dawn crouched and ran. Mad Dog grunted and the gun fell from his grip.

“Fuck. I shot him.” Gunner slammed a hand on the doorframe.

“No, I shot him.” Cade half rose from behind the couch, his weapon still trained on Mad Dog.

“Are you fucking kidding?” Gunner raced across the room to kick the bastard's gun away. “You didn't have a clear shot.”

Cade knelt down beside Mad Dog and pressed two fingers to the pulse on his neck. “Damn. He's still alive.”

“It's our lucky day.” Gunner heaved a sigh. “We woulda started a war and been kicked out of the club.”

“Um … boys.” Dawn motioned them to the door, but Cade didn't move.

“I would have been kicked out,” Cade said. “It was my bullet.”

“You can't shoot for shit.” Gunner tugged at Mad Dog's shirt to check the wound. “No way would I let you take the fall.”

Dawn raised her voice to a shout. “The police are almost here. I can see flashing lights. You have to go.”

“Fuck.” Gunner slapped the bullet-ridden wall. “He was wearing a vest. He'll be bruised but not broken. Let's go.”

“You can't leave him here.” Dawn's voice rose in pitch.

Cade frowned. “Why not? Break and enter, assault with a deadly weapon? Taking a hostage? Even our lawyer wouldn't be able to get us off without some jail time.”

“We'll do time together,” Mad Dog mumbled. “You bastards don't get me outta here before the cops show, I'll tell them I came to visit my wife to talk about our kids and Dawn stabbed me unprovoked. Then a buncha Sinners tried to off me. My bullets are near the door. Makes it look like I was defending myself. By the time the cops sort it out we'll have spent months cooling our heels in jail.”

“I'm not your wife,” Dawn bit out. “We're divorced.”

“And look what happened when you pulled that shit.” Mad Dog gave a bitter laugh. “Not that a civilian piece of paper means dick all. And that cut you're wearing is a joke. You're still my old lady until I'm dead or I let you go.”

“Your call, brother,” Gunner said.

Cade pointed his gun at Mad Dog's head. “I wanna shoot the fucker dead.”

Dawn looked at Cade aghast. “We have to let him go. There's not enough time to clean up and hide his body. I can't go to jail, Cade. I can't leave the girls with Shelly-Ann and no one to watch out for them.”

“Can you walk, fuck face?” Cade shoved Mad Dog's head back with the gun barrel, his finger itching to pull the trigger.

“Just get me to my damn bike,” Mad Dog spat out. “I'll call someone to pick me up.” He turned to Dawn. “Bitch. Gimme my phone. And go get the money.”

Cade jabbed his knee into the wound on Mad Dog's leg and Mad Dog screamed.

“You disrespect her again and I'm gonna say fuck the MC, fuck the cops, and fuck you breathing another fucking breath.”

“I need the money, dammit,” Mad Dog leaned on Gunner to pull himself up. “I know she has it.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Cade smashed the butt of his gun into Mad Dog's head. Maybe if he hit the bastard enough times, he would do Cade the favor of dying.

“Take him out the back door in case someone sees him.” Dawn handed Mad Dog the phone and Gunner half dragged him through the kitchen.

Cade looked back over his shoulder at Dawn. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I'm good.” But she didn't sound good, and she didn't look good either. He'd never seen her so pale.

“Put your gun away,” Cade said softly. “Don't let them know you have it. Call me if they take you to the station or arrest you. Club's got a lawyer, Richard—”

“I can't afford…”

“I'll take care of it.” He had a healthy bank balance from the work he did for the club, and without a family and no desire to spend it on flashy cars, or fancy digs, he was more than able to pay Richard's fees.

“We gotta go,” Gunner shouted over the wail of sirens.

“I'll ride around the block and come back when the cops leave,” Cade called out to Dawn. “Then I'll take you to the clubhouse. You can't stay here with a broken-in door.”

Gunner grunted his disapproval. “I thought we were gonna … you know … we had plans.”

“Plans change.” Cade took one last look at Dawn, and then he turned and dragged Mad Dog away.

*   *   *

“Fucking hell.” Jagger scrubbed a hand over his face and glared at Dawn, Gunner, and Cade, seated in front of his enormous oak desk like recalcitrant children. Zane, Sparky, and Dax leaned against the walls behind them along with Shaggy and T-Rex for an impromptu and unofficial board meeting.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

Dawn forced herself to meet his gaze. With her head still spinning from how quickly the Sinners had arranged for her door to be fixed, and the bullet holes repaired after she'd put the police off the scent last night, a confrontation with Jagger was about the last thing she was up for this afternoon.

“I was thinking Jimmy … er … Mad Dog had broken into my apartment and intended to assault me and then bring me back to his clubhouse.” She raised a hand to block out the light streaming through the wall of windows beside him so she could more clearly see his face. Such a beautiful office for someone with such a menacing scowl. Dark wood shelves lined the wall behind him, and a matching credenza sat to his left beneath a polished mirror. Clearly the Sinners hadn't done much to renovate this room; its historic patina was marred only by the prints of motorcycles hung on the worn, papered walls.

“Not you.” Jagger waved at her dismissively. “The two idiots beside you. What part of ‘don't engage the Brethren' did you two not understand?”

“He engaged us first,” Gunner said. “And he was holding Cade's old lady hostage. We had a duty to rescue her.”

“Don't spin me that bullshit.” Jagger thumped his fist on the desk. “You shot him. If he hadn't been wearing a vest, he would have died.”

“Actually, I shot him,” Cade interjected. “Gun was very expertly shooting around him to provide cover for Dawn to get out.”

Gunner sniffed. “You know Cade couldn't hit a target right in front of his face. I shot him.”

“I stabbed him,” Dawn said, feeling left out. “In the leg. That's why he was down.”

“Well, according to Wolf, he told the Brethren executive board that Cade and Gunner attacked him when he visited his wife to talk about their kids.” Jagger pushed his chair away from the table. “So now we got a problem. Wolf says I broke my word, and now he can't negotiate with us without looking weak, like he's not supporting his brother.”

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