The Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club, Books 1-3 (112 page)

“No. I'm not leaving you.” He wrapped his arms around her, held on tight.

“Go. Run.” She tried to pry his hands away, but his fingers dug in hard. Stubborn. Just like his father.

Annoyance flickered across Viper's features and he lowered the gun.

“Fucking kids,” he muttered. “Always in the fucking way. Bring him.”

He beckoned her forward again, but Evie planted her feet in the pavement and shook her head, calling his bluff. They were safe out on the street. Viper wasn't going to shoot her with a crowd at her back and the police coming around the corner.

“You're not going to kill me,” she said with a bravado she didn't feel in the least. “And I'm not going anywhere with you.”

“Even if your man is dead? Who's going to protect you, Evangeline? Not the Sinners. You're not one of them.”

Shadows moved behind him. His bodyguards. Of course, he wouldn't come here alone. “I'm not a Black Jack either. And he's not dead. He made it out.”

“Such faith.” Viper laughed. “But here's the thing, kitten. Even if he did make it out, it's over between you. There's a warrant for his arrest. And since the Sinners have been fucking with my business, I'm in need of some quick cash. I think the police in Stanton would be interested to know where to find him.” He inhaled, then blew out a puff of smoke. “Or would that be ATF jurisdiction? I'm not sure who would tear apart the Sinner clubhouse looking for a fugitive from justice.”

“Leave him out of this.” Evie shuddered under a wave of anger. She wanted to ask how he had found out about Zane, but the question would just confirm what he said was true, and she couldn't take the risk he was fishing for information. “This is between you and me.”

“It was between you and me.” He took another drag of his cigarette, leaned against the wall, all casual as if he hadn't just blown up a building and was now trying to blackmail her into his bed. “But then the Sinners got involved. Now the game has changed, kitten. I have to address the disrespect done to me and my club, and then I gotta get back what's mine. We were already at war with the Sinners. This just made it personal.”

“So you're going to blackmail Zane?”

“If you come nicely, I'll let him off for your good behavior.”

Ty shivered behind her and she prayed he didn't understand what was going on. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to finally meet the father he had dreamed about all his life, only to find out the world thought he was a murderer.

“What's to stop you from making that call even if I come with you?”

A smile tugged at the corners of his cruel lips. “Nothing. It's a risk you have to take. You have to trust me.”

“I don't trust you.”

“But you trust him?” Viper took a step forward, into the light. He looked older, tired, but no less formidable in his worn, leather cut, tight black T-shirt and jeans, his muscular arms colorful with tats. “The man who killed your father? The man who shot one of my junior patch in the back in cold blood? Ask him about Wheels. Or the three men he shot in a gunfight up in Whitefish. He kidnapped my old lady, threw her in the Sinner dungeon, probably tortured her for information. She's there now if you don't believe me. We aren't so different, kitten. We're both one percenters. Think about what that means.”

“I know at heart he's a good man.” She took a step back, pushing Ty along the sidewalk, putting some distance between them. His offer was no offer at all. He was going to make that call regardless of what she did. Her best option was to find Zane and warn him before the police came to call.

“Are you sure about that? Do you know the truth about what happened to your father?”

Taking a deep breath, Evie spun around, grabbed Ty's hand and ran into the crowd.

“Wrong choice,” Viper shouted after her. “Wrong fucking choice.”

*   *   *

Zane shoved people out of his way as he searched the crowd. He'd managed to chase away all the staff and customers before the Jacks started shooting, and had barely made it out himself when one of the bullets triggered the explosion. Evie and Ty should have gotten out before him.

So where the fuck were they?

Fear gripped his belly as he scanned the sea of faces, a gut-wrenching sickness like nothing he'd ever felt before. He wasn't going to lose them now. Not after he'd only just found her again; not after he'd only just met his son.

He whipped out his phone and punched Jagger's number. “Jag.” He drew in a shuddering breath. He'd never asked for help before. Never needed it. “The Jacks shot up the Kaufman Kafe on Stock Street. Evie and Ty were inside. I can't find them.”

“I'm there, brother. Hold on.”

Zane's tension eased the tiniest bit and he continued the search. But, when one wall of the building caved in with an earsplitting crash, his heart thundered so loud he thought he would break a rib.

The police arrived and cordoned off the area. Fire trucks screeched to a halt, sirens blaring, lights flashing. Ambulance attendants wheeled a gurney to an old lady lying on the sidewalk. Zane vaguely remembered pushing her outside moments before the deafening explosion. He searched the back alley, the SUV, the side streets, and then returned to the crowd out front, now ten people deep. Where were they?

Smoke filled his lungs, singed his nostrils, the scent bringing back the memory of his utter despair outside Evie's shop when he thought she was gone. Fuck. He couldn't go through this again. It was going to fucking kill him.

His heart lifted when he heard the rumble of motorcycles. Moments later, Jagger stalked down the street, six Sinners behind him, drawing the attention of the cops who had little to do but hold the crowd back as the firefighters fought the blaze. Once, that had been him. He'd always been the first one into a building, taking the biggest risks, simply because he had nothing to live for.

Zane met them curbside, briefed them on the layout of the block and then the Sinners dispersed.

“I called Benson. Told him to get his lazy ass down here.” Jagger cut a path through the gawking onlookers with a mighty sweep of his hand. “He's going to get me copies of the witness reports so we can ID the Jacks involved. Crossing our border, shooting up a café filled with civilians, targeting a brother and his family … They've broken every damn code we have. This will bring the ATF down on all of us. National will be involved in this one. But I'm not waiting for the nod from the higher-ups. We'll find Evie and Ty, and then we'll hit them hard.”

His family.

Zane had never had a real family. But he didn't correct Jagger. Evie and Ty were his to protect. He would fight for them. He would die for them. And if that meant they were family, then he'd found something he'd been looking for all his life. But goddammit the MC was no place for them. Not if they were constantly in danger.

“Zane! I got 'em.” Gunner bulldozed his way toward them, Ty on his shoulders, Evie under one arm. “They were looking for you in the ambulances.”

Zane had no words, no thoughts, no ability even to move. He'd been through a lot of shit in his life, seen things no man should ever see, experienced the full range of emotions, but nothing compared to the sight of Evie—his Evie—running toward him, her face streaked with tears and soot, the most beautiful goddamn sight he had ever seen.

With a cry that dispelled the last of his doubt about how she truly felt about him, she threw herself into his arms, and buried her face in his chest. Zane wrapped his arms around her, held her to him, grounded in her warmth. Never in his life had he felt such a complete and utter conviction that he was exactly where he was meant to be.

“Me, too,” Ty said.

With Gunner's help, Ty slid off his shoulders and pushed his way between Evie and Zane, hugging them both. Zane could think of no more perfect moment.

“Zane?”

“Yeah, bud.”

“Mom's going to need her coffee now.”

*   *   *

“This is your clubhouse?” Evie stared at the grand country house nestled at the foot of the Bridger Mountains. “It looks like something out of the movies where rich people go for the weekend to get away from it all.”

Zane reached over and unfastened her seat belt, a small but courteous gesture, and one she hadn't expected of an outlaw biker. But then, so far Zane had defied pretty much every expectation she had of who he had become.

Except one. When faced with overwhelming emotion, he still shut down. And the scene at the café definitely fell into the overwhelming category. For both of them.

“We had another clubhouse but the Jacks burned it down,” Tank said from the backseat of the SUV where he'd taken up guard duty and spent the ride cursing about Zane's driving, to Ty's utter delight.

“We got this place from a drug dealer who tried to cheat us,” he continued. “It's isolated and big enough to accommodate the club, so we decided to fix it up. It's not so pretty inside. Get a buncha brothers together, and you're not gonna get any fancy decorating.”

After helping Ty out of the vehicle, Zane put an arm around Evie's waist and led her up the steps. He hadn't said a word since they'd found each other outside the café, and she was glad for the chance to collect her thoughts. She couldn't get Viper's words out of her head. She'd sensed Zane was holding something back when he told her about her father's death, but had he lied? And what about the other men he allegedly killed? And the woman in the dungeon? Had she been naive about the Sinners and what they did? And what about the Jacks? Who were the monsters and who were the men?

“Stop.” She paused on the threshold. “Is it … kid friendly inside?”

Tank laughed. “I called ahead. Made sure Sherry, our house mama, understood we needed a PG environment. She sent all the girls home, cleaned up the booze, disposed of the … wrappers. We're good.”

Evie supposed that should make her feel better, but the thought of Zane hanging out here where girls, booze and “wrappers” made it a constant non-PG environment, sent a strange flutter through her belly. How many women had he been with? How many biker parties had he attended where he'd taken women into the shadowy corners and—

“None,” he whispered, his voice a sensual rumble in her ear.

“How do you know what I'm thinking?” She didn't even pretend she didn't know what he was talking about because she wanted the answer.

“Because I know you.” His arm tightened around her, and his words spilled out. “I spent a lifetime learning everything about you, the way you tense when you're stressed, the way your brow crinkles when you're confused, and how your lips tighten when you're jealous. Good thing we don't have any pink soda in the kitchen, or any girls named Melissa.”

Shocked that he remembered the isolated incident, surprised he was talking at all, she pulled up short. “That was an accident.” But his smirk told her he knew she was lying. Melissa Parker, destined to be prom queen from the moment she set foot in Stanton High School, had been after Zane from day one. And when he took her to the school spring dance, the year Evie turned sixteen, and put his arms around her slim athletic body, Evie knew it was time to leave.

But of course, she didn't listen to the tiny voice of warning. Although she and Zane had an unspoken agreement not to acknowledge their feelings, there was something between them that went beyond friendship. And that night it was Melissa. At least it was until Evie “accidentally” spilled pink soda on Melissa's almost-see-through white dress. Who knew it would stain? She hadn't been able to read Zane's expression as he watched a shrieking Melissa run for the restroom. But she didn't need to. Melissa was gone, and that was all she cared about.

“I waited for you to come back that night,” he said softly. “I couldn't understand why you went to so much trouble, and then left the dance.”

“I was scared.” She leaned her forehead against his shoulder, unable to meet his gaze. “I thought if you touched me like that, we could never be friends again.”

Zane gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted her head back, then gave her a long, lingering kiss. “You were right.”

“Ewwwww. That's gross.” Ty broke away and ran down the hallway, pulling up short when a biker with a thick, matted gray beard stepped out of a side room, filling the hallway with his bulk.

“Hey kid.”

“Mom.” Ty took one step back, and then another. Evie broke away from Zane, and put a hand on his head. “It's okay.”

“This is Shaggy,” Tank said, coming to the rescue. “He's the oldest member of the club and he hasn't washed his beard in twenty years.”

Ty gave him an appraising look. “Cool.”

“Kid thinks I'm cool.” Shaggy snorted a laugh. “Now I'm not gonna wash it for another twenty years.”

“You're not gonna live another fucking twenty years, old-timer.” Tank ushered Ty into the living area. “That's why T-Rex and I both got seats on the executive board. We're waiting for you to kick the shit bucket.”

“I'll kick your ass, junior patch, how about that for some damn kicking?”

“Mom, can I go get the swear jar?” Ty turned to Evie, his eyes wide. “We're going to be rich!”

*   *   *

Zane left Evie and Ty with Tank and headed for the kitchen. Jagger had called an emergency board meeting for tomorrow morning, but Zane couldn't wait that long. He wanted Viper dead. And he wanted it done tonight.

“We were waiting for you.” Cade waved him in and held up a beer. Zane shook his head. He had only just started coming down from the adrenaline rush of the afternoon, and a beer would knock him out.

Gunner, Sparky and Jagger had already cracked open a couple of cold ones and lounged on the wooden chairs in the country-style kitchen, the only room in the clubhouse that hadn't undergone a significant renovation.