The Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club, Books 1-3 (39 page)

“Viper never threatened to kill me.”

“But he put that picture in Gunner's cut,” Wheels said. “Jagger took it as a death threat. He went crazy. You saw the result.”

Indeed she had, and she would never forget the sight of Banks tied to that chair. But as for Viper … She scoffed. “That was Jeff. Viper doesn't threaten. He doesn't do furtive. And he doesn't know his way around a dark room. He'd see an action like that as cowardly. If he wants someone dead, he kills them. No messing around. That's why the members of his club follow the rules. If they screw up, there is no warning. There one day. Dead the next.”

Wheels stared at her with a scrutiny that was unsettling, particularly because his eyes were supposed to be on the road. “Do you wonder if maybe Jagger released his blood claim because he wanted you to leave? So you could go somewhere safe?”

“Maybe you should watch where you're going.” She pointed to the windshield, even as she shook her head. Jagger was protecting the honor of the club, not her. Love wasn't part of the “club first” equation.

When they reached her apartment building, Wheels pulled over to the side of the road and turned off the engine. “What are you going to do now that you're free?”

Free.
She'd dreamed of being free, but not like this. “I'm leaving town before Viper hears Jagger released me from his claim. If I don't, I'll never get away. I'm almost at the point where I've exhausted all my escape options. This tiny window, where he thinks I'm with the Sinners, is pretty much my last hope.”

“So you're leaving the biker life?”

Arianne gave him a half-hearted smile. “I'm going to be normal … happy.” But for the first time since she'd made up the little speech that had seen her through the worst of times, she didn't feel any conviction behind her words.

Wheels clicked his fingernails against the steering wheel and shifted in his seat. Puzzled, and no small bit apprehensive, Arianne pushed open the door.

“Wait.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “It's just … I like you.”

“I like you, too, Wheels.” She forced a smile and stepped out of the vehicle.

“Maybe you should leave tonight,” he said. “You know … just in case Viper finds out.”

She breathed out a relieved sigh. Ah. He wasn't crazy after all, just a nice guy looking out for her. “I need to get stuff ready and say good-bye. I'm going to be leaving forever, and forever is a very long time.”

*   *   *

Two days after Banks's beating, the Sinners held a party. Partially in honor of all the brothers who had been injured recently, and the brother they had lost, but mostly to keep up their spirits, because the war with the Jacks had just begun.

By the time Jagger arrived at Riders, Cade had taken over the DJ booth by the window and was spinning his favorite blend of heavy metal and thrash, interspersed with the odd Irish jig. The vines and palm trees from Dawn's party had been cleared away, the bullet holes filled, glass repaired, and the bar was back to looking as a biker bar should: rough and gritty, with worn tables, wooden floors, and metal band posters plastered over the walls. The sweet butts laughed it up with the brothers, and old ladies helped the staff serving snacks and pouring beer. Gunner stood at the corner of the room, arms folded, trying to keep order with the fierceness of his scowl.

Jagger nodded a few greetings and then threw himself on the couch at the back of the bar. He was here for appearances and nothing else.

“Hey, baby. You're not lookin' the way a man should look at a party.” Sherry joined him on the couch, tugging the bottom of her skin-tight black dress over her ass. The damn dress was cut so low, the only part of her tits not showing were her nipples. But then, Sherry had nice tits and she liked showing them off. Tonight, however, he didn't take up the invitation when she leaned across his body, ostensibly to brush something off his shoulder.

Instead, he turned away. “You're back on probation on the recommendation of the executive board,” he said abruptly. “And not just because you've been feeding us info on Axle's whereabouts, or because we found out you acted under duress and no small amount of abuse. If it were up to me alone, you'd still be gone, especially after you helped him steal our weapons.”

“You looked like you needed some cheering up,” she said softly. “And I know where you sit on me coming back. I also know you could have vetoed the vote, so thank you for not doing that. Axle was a mistake. I was messed up after you broke it off, and he was there for me. He told me he loved me, and I believed him. But after you kicked him out, and he started making all sorts of demands for information about the club, and forcing me to do things I didn't want to do, I realized he never really loved me at all. He was using me to get to you. You're a wanted man, Jagger. In more ways than one.”

She settled by his side and leaned her head on his shoulder. His nose wrinkled at the sharp scent of her cloying perfume, but he put an arm around her for the simple comfort of her familiarity and the fact she didn't want anything from him, at least for the moment. They always wanted something. The sweet butts and hood rats wanted in his bed. Sherry had wanted to wear his patch. The brothers jostled for position or favor. Even Max would nudge his leg or nip his hand when he wanted to play or go for a walk. Everyone needed a piece of him.

Except Arianne.

Damn, the woman had made it clear she wanted nothing from him. Didn't need his help or his protection. Hell, she took independence to a whole new level. Jagger didn't know if he liked that or not. How could he control her if there was nothing she needed from him? Not that it mattered now.

“I knew you couldn't stay grouchy for the entire party.” Sherry slid her hand over his thigh and his cock twitched—an automatic response, given their history together.

“Sherry…”

“You're thinking about her.” Sherry gave his leg a chaste pat. “You only smile when it has to do with women or Max. So don't worry. I won't try to seduce you, although you're looking mighty seduceable, all glowering and moody here in the corner. Some girls go for cheerful guys. I go for the dark, sullen type.”

“Well, then, Zane's your man.” He jerked his head at Zane, who was chatting with Gunner in the corner.

Sherry laughed. “I think I'll pass. You might be scary, but you've got heart. Zane is cold all the way through.”

“He has heart,” Jagger said. “He's just hidden it away.”

“And yours is on your sleeve.”

“She's gone, Sherry.” He stood so quickly, she had to throw out an arm to catch herself. “I withdrew the Sinner claim, and kicked her out. She's nothing to the club.”

Sherry squeezed Jagger's hand. “She's something to you. Even though you pretend you don't—you do care, Jagger. And if you let
me
come back, how can you do less for her?”

Less?
Hell, he'd done more. He'd released his claim and given her the freedom she desired.
He'd let her go.
Damn Sherry for stirring things up when he'd already settled everything in his mind. He'd done everything he could do. Time to move on.

“I'm outta here. Not in the mood for a party.” He took a step away, and then looked back over his shoulder. “You okay getting home?”

Sherry smiled. “I am home. You know the brothers will watch out for me.”

And they would. Which meant he could get on his bike and just ride. Away from the crowds and the memories, away from the hope Sherry had planted in his heart. He needed his bike, and the afternoon sun in his face. He needed the rev of the engine and the wind in his hair.

He needed his girl.
Arianne
.

*   *   *

“You aren't leaving tonight.” Banks scowled at Arianne as a worker narrowly missed running a two-by-four through the mirror behind the bar. “Don't even think about it.”

Arianne stared at Banks's bruised face. He looked worse than when she'd seen him three days ago, the bruises now a motley collection of blue and green. She turned away and swept broken glass from the bar counter into a container. Renovations were almost complete, and Banks had called her in to help get ready for the big reopening.

“Tomorrow,” she said. “And after I go, I won't ever have to worry about Viper hunting me down or beating me again. I won't be kidnapped, shot at, or claimed as a blood price. I'll be normal.”

Dawn slid onto a stool and out of the way as two workers carried a new table to the center of the bar.

“Is that what you really want? I mean, you're not going for Jeff anymore, and the people who love you most are right here.” Dawn hesitated. “Me and Banks. Your friends. Jagger's here.”

“Jagger will be hunting for Jeff. He knows everything now, and there's no way he's going to let it go.” Arianne grabbed a wet cloth and scrubbed the counter so hard, the cloth squeaked across the surface. “I've left messages on Jeff's phone and with some of his friends to warn him. But that's all I'll do. I'll never give up hope that he might change or reform, and he won't have that chance if he's dead.”

“You're loyal to a fault.” Dawn's sympathetic look sliced through Arianne, shaking her resolve. How could she leave her bestie? And yet, how could she not go?

“That's the problem.” She rinsed out the cloth in the bar sink and hung it to dry. “How can I be with the man who kills my brother? How can I love someone who lives by a code that puts the honor of his club over Jeff's life? Jagger and I share the same values, but for me they lead to forgiveness, and for him they lead to revenge. It's a conundrum.”

Dawn laughed. “Then you're living in the perfect place.”

Banks joined them at the bar and hefted a box of liquor on the counter, a scowl on his face. “Not working as usual, I see.”

Arianne pulled a bottle of whiskey from the box and put it on the shelf behind the bar. The entire display stock had to be replenished. Not one bottle remained unbroken after the fight.

“That's ‘cause you're under renovation until the doors open. You were lucky to get a crew out here so fast to fix the place up.”

“Wasn't me.” Banks handed Arianne another bottle. “Didn't recognize the name of the company on the work order, but I'm pretty sure Jagger sent them.”

“Jagger?” A knot formed in Arianne's belly. “Is that his way of saying sorry?”

“Man like that doesn't say sorry.” He nudged her until she'd put the bottle on the shelf and then gave her another one. “The work crew … they're here because he wants something from me.”

Arianne froze. “I gave him what he wanted. If he hurts you again—”

“He didn't hurt me.”

“Look at your face.” Her voice rose above the cacophony of sound. “Of course he hurt you. It's just another reason why I'm leaving. Normal people don't tie up your friends and beat them up to get information. They ask. And if the information isn't forthcoming, they might get angry, but then they walk away.”

“He didn't hurt me, Arianne.” Banks's face softened. “What he did was all for show. If he really wanted information from me, he would've broken a coupla my bones. He woulda picked up that iron bar and used it first, or he would have used a knife. And he wouldn't have done it in front of you. There's a big difference between hitting someone to make a point and hitting with the intent to harm.”

“What point?” The bottle dangled from her fingers as her brain tried to process Banks's words. “It was about the club, Banks. You don't understand. He has to avenge the club.”

“I got that about the club.” Banks dropped his hands to the box and leaned toward her. “But he also had a duty to protect you, and he couldn't because you wouldn't let him. People were beatin' on you, tyin' you up, shootin' at you, and you wouldn't give him the information he needed to stop them. So what's he gonna do?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Beat up my friend.”

“Nah.” Banks stepped behind the bar to avoid two workers carrying a plate-glass window. “I took down six of his guys in under five minutes. He got the message I wouldn't be talking. He brought me in anyway because he had only one option left.”

Just as Wheels had said. “Make me leave town.” She slumped against the bar and covered her face with her hands. Why hadn't she accepted it before? Jagger was capable of much more than bruises. She'd seen him with Axle and Leo, and she was intimately familiar with the difference between hurt and harm.

“He's at Riders.” Banks pulled out another bottle of whiskey, then twisted off the cap and poured himself a shot. “He invited me to their party. They want me to join the MC.”

Wide-eyed, Dawn grabbed the bottle from his hand and poured another glass. “Seriously? They beat the crap out of you, drag you out of your bar, tie you up, beat you some more, and then invite you to join the club?”

Banks grinned. “Yeah. But I turned them down. Zane told me if I changed my mind, or wanted to get to know the guys, they'd be at Riders tonight.” He looked at Arianne and his voice roughened. “Thought you should know. Just in case you want to say good-bye.”

*   *   *

Jagger didn't know how far he'd ridden, or for how long. He didn't feel the cold, although his visible breath told him the temperature had dropped below zero. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten, and the only reason he'd had a drink was because at some point during his ride he had to stop for fuel. He knew only that the sun had set long ago, and he was being torn in two.

Life hadn't equipped him to deal with divided emotions. Duty had defined his world since he was old enough to say the word. In an attempt to curb his rebellious nature, duty had been drilled into him by his military family over and over again until he knew only duty and nothing of desire. He had never allowed anything to conflict with duty. And yet, despite his best intentions, it had happened anyway.