The Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club, Books 1-3 (111 page)

“Will you teach me how to fight? Just in case I need to help Mom when you're gone.”

Christ. Even his kid thought he was going to abandon them. Well, that made three of them. “Who says I won't be around?”

“Mom says you're busy with the club and maybe you'll see me on weekends, or you might go away and not come back for a long time. My friend Mason only sees his dad on weekends 'cause his parents are divorced. They get to go to restaurants all the time and football games, and he gets to sleep on his dad's couch, like you do.”

“Yeah, I'll teach you to fight. But you gotta eat something. Can't fight if you have no energy.”

Ty slid off his seat and reached into one of the grocery bags Arianne had brought to the safe house this morning. He pulled out a box of cookies and carefully pulled it open, his eyes never leaving Zane's face. Now there was a challenge if he ever saw one—and that he understood.

“Your mom usually let you eat cookies for breakfast?”

“Yeah. All the time.” Ty bit into a cookie, watching, his body tense.

Zane bit back a smile and stretched out on his chair. “You know … even outlaw bikers got rules. We live by a code: honesty, integrity, brotherhood and loyalty. You want to be a biker, you gotta live by the code. You got to be able to trust your brothers just as they got to trust you, because the world we live in is not forgiving of mistakes. We had one brother, Axle, he did lotsa bad shit and betrayed his brothers. He lied, stole… In short, he was dishonest. In the end, he died alone.”

Ty's eyes widened and he stopped chewing. “He died?”

“Yeah. You get involved in bad shit, it always comes back on you.” He leaned across the table, made his son a promise. “What Mark did to your mom … that's gonna come back on him. Big time.”

Ty placed the box and the unfinished cookie on the table. “I'm not hungry anymore.”

“Didn't think you would be.” Zane gave himself a mental high five. Maybe parenting wasn't so hard after all.

They cleaned up the breakfast dishes together and put the groceries away. Ty talked about his friends, the games he played, and movies he had seen with his mother. Except for that one outburst about Mark, he never talked about Stanton, and Zane wondered if he didn't remember much, or he didn't want to remember. He was an easy kid to be around, curious about Zane's life as a biker, enthusiastic about his friends, and passionate about superheroes.

“Batman. He's the only true superhero,” Zane said as they put the last of the food away. “He'd win a fight against any of the others hands down 'cause he's got that streak of dark in him, makes him able to cross the line that pansies like Captain America can't cross. He doesn't take shit from anyone.”

“Duh.” Ty rolled his eyes and pointed to his Batman pajamas. “I know that.”

Nobody had ever said “duh” to Zane since … well, ever. The kids at school had been afraid of him and the junior patch and prospects knew to stay out of his way. “You allowed to say ‘duh' to a grown-up?”

Ty shot him a sideways look. “You allowed to say shit to a kid?”

Damn. The kid was smart. He would have to watch his mouth. He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a roll of bills. “How about I pay a couple of months in advance since I seem to have used up my last advance payment?”

Ty took the money and put it in his swear jar. “Can I use some of it in case I need to swear sometimes like you?”

“Definitely not. Bikers swear. Boys don't.”

Ty's smile faded and his face grew solemn. “I'm going to be a fucking biker when I grow up. I'm going to swear and shoot guns and be in car chases. I'm going to be a Sinner's Tribe motorcycle man like you. But first you have to teach me how to ride a motorcycle.”

“When you're older.” He let the swear slide. Boys needed to learn how to cuss so they could express themselves when they became men.

Ty deflated. “I want to learn now. Trevor's dad plays baseball with him and takes him to football games. And Jason's dad is building a clubhouse with him. I want you to do things with me. Riding a motorcycle would be epic.”

“And dangerous.”

“I thought that was the point. Or maybe you're not cool like I thought.” Ty's bottom lip quivered and Zane's pulse kicked up a notch. What would he do if Ty cried? Evie would think he was a failure as a dad. Fifteen minutes and he couldn't keep his son happy.

“I am cool,” Zane protested.

“Prove it.”

Zane narrowed his eyes. What the hell was he supposed to do? What did a eight-year-old kid find cool? “You play vids?”

Ty's eyes lit up. “Yeah. What games do you play?”

“None. But we got lots of games at the clubhouse and a couple the junior patch play all the time. There's one guy, Hacker, he…” Zane trailed off when Ty's face fell. “What's the matter?”

“I want to play with you.”

“I haven't played for a long time.” Not since he'd left Stanton. Video games were something he played with Evie and Jagger. He'd thought it almost a sacrilege to play with anyone else.

“Good. Then I'll win.” Ty raced to the bedroom. “I'll go grab my stuff. I brought my game console and a couple of games.”

Ten minutes later, awed by his son's skill with hooking up the complicated system of wires and navigating all the Internet shit that now comprised a modern gaming system, Zane joined Ty on the couch.

“Here.” Ty handed him a controller with so many buttons it resembled an airplane console. He ran through the different commands and started the game before Zane had a chance to assimilate all the information.

Ten seconds later, Ty sighed. “You're dead. Even mom plays better than you.”

“
Even
mom?” Evie walked into the living room, her hair damp and curled slightly at the edges. She wore a green dress that hugged every curve and highlighted the emerald of her eyes. So damn beautiful. And last night had gone so damn wrong, although he was still trying to figure out why.

“Gimme a minute to figure it out.” Zane frowned at the character on the screen. How many guns was that guy packing? No way could anyone walk with that much gear, much less leap off a ten-story building. And the magazine for the automatic Ty's character carried didn't hold unlimited rounds. Damn unrealistic.

“Move over and I'll show you how it's done.” Evie sat beside him on the couch and he inhaled the floral scent of her shampoo mixed with the familiar hint of her jasmine perfume. His groin tightened when her body pressed up against him, despite the few extra inches of space between her and the armrest, and he was immediately transported back to all the afternoons he spent trying to focus on their games while trying to quell the throb of teenage arousal. But the party in his pants really got started when she reached over him to take the extra controller from Ty, her breasts brushing across his chest.

Damn. He had to get a grip. He wasn't a teenager anymore, and Ty was sitting beside him. He closed his eyes and took a few deep, calming breaths. When he opened them and saw her smirk, he knew she was teasing him on purpose, and a weight lifted from his shoulders. Okay. Maybe he hadn't screwed it up too bad.

And he wasn't messing up the damn game either. Yeah, she'd been a good player when they were kids, but he was a man now. He knew how to shoot for real and those pussies on the screen were his for the taking. He put his thumbs on the keypad and started firing.

“You're dead.”

“What?” He glared at Ty and Evie, both laughing now.

“Mom killed you. She's a tenth level Feline. You need to stay away from her claws.”

“Roawr.” Evie made a mock swipe at him with her fingers and he caught her hand and brought it to his mouth, brushing his lips over her knuckles until her eyes darkened with arousal.

“Just wait, Feline,” he murmured. “And I'll show you how I deal with those little claws.”

“You're dead, too, Mom. You got distracted.” Ty bounced on the couch. “I win. I'll reset.”

Evie glanced over at the screen. “I've got three power bars left. I'm very much alive, my feeble human friend.” With one hand still in Zane's grasp, she leaned over and tickled Ty and they both fell back on the couch laughing.

Alive.

He'd never felt as alive as he did right now, with his Evie beside him doing what they'd always loved to do, and his son—
his son—
laughing on the couch. Yeah, he loved the Sinners, and he would never leave them. But he'd been living in the shadows since he left Stanton, and now it was time to come into the light.

Only one thing stood in his way.

He dropped Evie's hand and picked up the controller. “Where's the bad guy? It's time he got a taste of Sinner's steel.”

And when he was done with that bad guy, Viper would be next.

 

SEVENTEEN

Don't sweat it if you don't have formal motorcycle repair training. Experience and the desire to do a good job win out every time.

—SINNER'S TRIBE MOTORCYCLE REPAIR MANUAL

“Seriously?”

Zane looked over his shoulder long enough to raise his eyebrow, then resumed his guard position at the window in the coffee shop. “Whipped cream on black coffee?”

“Seriously.” Evie squirted an extra inch of whipped cream on her large Americano. Her coffee headache had hit her hard after they finished their video game—no wonder since she hadn't had any coffee since yesterday morning, and she hadn't slept last night after the most thrilling sexual experience of her life—and Zane had made a reluctant stop at the coffee shop on their way to the clubhouse.

She shivered, remembering their encounter in the forest: the rasp of Zane's breath behind her; the potent mix of fear and excitement; and the feel of his hand around her neck when he finally caught her.

But more than that, she had been moved by his tenderness. Despite her emotional retreat, he carried her back to the clubhouse, washed and bandaged her feet, and then left her in the apartment without saying a word, as if he knew she needed to be alone.

And he was right. The intensity of their encounter had scared her, just as Zane scared her. And for all that she kept telling herself he was going to leave, no matter how hard she pushed, he wouldn't go away.

“You should try it.” She offered him the cream-laden cup.

“Thanks, but I like my coffee black.” Zane sipped his filter coffee. “Pure. And I can think of better uses for a can of whipped cream.”

Desire flared white-hot inside her and her cheeks heated. She dipped her head and handed the canister to Ty, then glanced up again through the curtain of her lashes.

Zane caught her gaze, his sensuous lips parting in an erotically charged smile. Yes, she could imagine what he'd do with a bottle of whipped cream. And despite all her protests last night, she would be fully on board.

While Ty smothered his hot chocolate with cream, Evie took the first sip of her coffee, letting the mixture of bitter liquid and thick sweetness slide over her tongue. Ah. So good. She needed the kick. Hopefully one would be enough.

“Should we go?” She took the canister from Ty and placed it on the counter.

“Fuck.” Zane stiffened, pulled out his phone. “Drop the drinks. Take Ty out the back. Buncha Jacks outside. Don't know if they were tailing us or if it's just a coincidence, but they're not supposed to be in Conundrum. I'll be right behind you. I'm gonna call Jagger and clear everyone outta the shop in case things go bad.”

“Zane … don't…”

“Go, Evie.”

She dumped the drinks and grabbed Ty's hand, pulling him into the back hallway. Behind her she could hear Zane yelling for everyone to leave.

Her heart pounded in warning, and her walk turned into a run. But just as she neared the exit door, she heard gunshots, a muffled explosion, and then the building shook around them. Evie pulled Ty close and curled around his small body until the shaking subsided. She turned back to the door but the hall had filled with smoke.

“Zane!” She didn't try to hide the panic in her voice as she peered through the haze.

“Mom. Let's go.” Ty pushed the door open, but Evie hesitated. Did Zane get out in time? What if he was still inside, injured and unable to move?

“Mom. The store's on fire.” Ty yanked on her hand just as fire licked the walls of the hallway, curling around the paintings of Italian landscapes and giant hills of coffee beans.

“Zane!” She shrieked his name, her pulse thudding so loud in her ears she could barely hear. With one last look behind her, she grabbed Ty's hand and pulled him outside.

Low, dark clouds hung in the sky, and the air was heavy with an impending storm. With Ty in tow, she raced down the alley to the front of the building. Sirens wailed in the distance and a crowd had gathered outside as smoke billowed through the front door.

“Zane!” She pushed her way through the crowd, searching every face, every black jacket, every head of brown hair.

With a roar, flames engulfed the building sending a thick cloud of dust and smoke across the street. Evie covered Ty's mouth and nose, turning him away from the building, startling when she saw a familiar face.

Viper.

Leaning casually in the shadows of the alley no more than ten feet away, a cigarette hanging from his thin, cruel lips, Viper nodded a greeting. His gaze swept over her body, lingering on her face, and then he lifted his weapon, and gestured her forward with a crooked finger.

“Mom? Who is that biker?” Ty turned fully in her arms drawing Viper's gaze. “Why is he pointing his gun at us?”

“Run, Ty.” She turned, shoved him behind her. The last thing she wanted was for Viper to know Zane had a son. “Go into the crowd. Then find a policeman. Ask them to take you to Connie.”