The Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club, Books 1-3 (28 page)

“Damn right, we will.” Zane thumped his fist on the table, and the rest of the executive board murmured their approval.

“Any news on Axle?”

“He's outta the hospital,” Cade said. “Sherry went to see him. Apparently, he's even more pissed than before. Sherry thinks he's gone crazy and he's obsessed with revenge.”

“Makes sense,” Zane said. “Most animals are more dangerous when they're wounded. Makes them fearless.”

What the fuck?
Jagger slammed a fist on the table. “Sherry went to see him? Even though he's out of the club on bad terms? And no one saw that as a problem?”

The room went quiet and Jagger contemplated his next move. He'd warned Sherry to stay away from Axle. No one in the club was allowed contact with any member who was kicked out on bad terms and that included house mamas and sweet butts.

“What do you wanna do?” Cade raised his brows. “He treated her like shit, but she had feelings for him. She's a sweet girl and I'm damn sure she went to see him out of compassion, and not with any intent to betray the club. Jill said—”

Jagger cut him off with a sharp gesture, the burden of leadership lying heavy within his chest. “She knows the rules. She's out of the club. I want—”

“I didn't get to finish,” Cade interrupted, his voice uncharacteristically sharp. “Jill said she showed up after her meeting with Axle with a black eye, and her arm in a sling.”

Fuck
. He had to kick her out of the club. It was the right thing to do. But if Axle was abusing her, Jagger couldn't just leave her out on her own. She'd had a rough life before joining the Sinners, which meant she'd put up with a lot more than most women would, and he didn't want her winding up with Axle because she had no place else to go. “Cade, send Wheels to find her. After I speak to her, she can stay in the safe house until she gets herself sorted.”

More surprised murmurs around the table. Everyone had assumed he was keeping Arianne at the safe house. But the last few nights, he'd had her in his bed at the clubhouse, and he didn't want her anywhere else.

Changing the topic before he changed his mind, he looked over at Gunner. “Any luck on sniffing out our rat?”

Gunner shook his head. “I went back to the ice house and checked our position from every road. You were right. No way could anyone have known where we were unless they'd been told. And I'm wondering if the same rat called the cops at the vacant lot. Did anyone notice the cops came just as we started winning the fight?”

Jagger had noticed. He'd also noticed that Arianne had been at every location where they'd been ratted out. But he couldn't believe she was a Black Jack spy.

“Get Tank to help you and maybe another one of the junior patch. I can't believe someone slipped through our net, but when we find the bastard, we'll make him wish he'd run when he had the chance.”

After business was done and the brothers had tossed around names of possible support clubs, everyone headed out to Riders. Jagger stayed in his seat, sensing Zane's impatience, and resigning himself to a lecture about things he didn't want to hear.

As expected, Zane waited until the room was clear and then launched his attack. Did Jagger realize he had become the subject of numerous discussions that bordered on disrespect? The president should be above gossip. His behavior should be exemplary. He shouldn't be fucking the daughter of the club's greatest enemy in the guise of claiming her as a blood price. If she'd been any other woman, the club would have set her to work. She should be cooking and cleaning and washing their clothes. Instead, Arianne had freedoms the sweet butts didn't have, and she slept in Jagger's bed.

Steeling himself to keep his temper in check, Jagger fired out question after question, giving Zane no time to consider his answers. Zane was a thinker, intellectualizing everything until the moment had passed to react. He wanted Zane's honest answers, his true impression.

Yes, Zane said, she did contribute to the club by fixing the brothers' bikes. And okay, she saved Bandit's ass on the hill, and probably the lives of a couple of brothers by shooting at members of her own club. Maybe she was a better pool player than anyone he'd met, and she'd drunk the prospects under the table at the party even though she was half their weight. Her shooting was good … okay … spectacular, just like her dart game. But the only reason she outraced everyone on her bike was because she didn't ride American.

And didn't that say it all.

 

SIXTEEN

There will be no fraternizing with rival clubs.

Arianne stood on the edge of the tiny dance floor in Riders Bar, watching Dawn's friends tangle together with a handful of junior patch bikers as they gyrated to Steppenwolf's heart pumping, “Born to Be Wild.”

Lights twinkled on the faux vines twisted around pillars and hanging from beams on the exposed ceiling in the reclaimed mill house on the West Side of Conundrum. Smoke drifted upward through the semidarkness, giving the bar the look of a primordial swamp. She caught a glimpse of Dawn in the crowd and made her way over to her.

“Looking good.” Dawn smiled when Arianne joined her. “That dress looks even better in this light.” She pointed to the retro disco ball overhead and Arianne winced at the sight of multiple images of herself in the formfitting red dress Dawn had retrieved from the stash of emergency clothes she kept at Dawn's apartment.

The dress had attracted more than its fair share of attention, but it was clear the bikers were operating on a hands-off-or-die policy with her. No pinches, grabs, or subtle brushes of an arm over her breast in passing. No bad lines or come-ons. In that respect, it was the tamest evening out she'd ever had.

They danced through two more songs, but when the DJ spun a heavy metal ballad, Arianne's nose wrinkled. “Let's get a drink.”

“I'd forgotten how hands-on bikers are.” Dawn slung her purse over her shoulder and followed Arianne off the dance floor. “I swear if I have to slap another hand away from my ass or my boobs, I'm gonna scream.”

Arianne pushed her way through the crowd and found them a standing space at the bar. “Not that I'm wanting to be touched, but I also don't like feeling like an outcast. Everyone stands at least two feet away when they're talking to me. When some guy stumbled into me on the dance floor, everyone scattered and he screamed and ran out the door. It's like I have a big sign stamped on my forehead that says ‘Keep Off.'”

“You do.” Dawn waved down the bartender. “And it's 'cause your man is Jagger, president of the Sinner's Tribe MC and expert scowler.”

“He's not my man,” Arianne grumbled. “If it's a relationship, it's the most confusing one I've ever had. We've never had a date. We don't hang out like normal couples. When we're together, we're either having sex or being shot at, chased, or attacked. No one can figure out where I fit into the club hierarchy, so they say things like, ‘So how's the little blood price today?' or ‘Yo, blood price, fix my puncture.' I don't even know where I stand with him.”

“He
claimed
you.” Dawn gave her a nudge. “Possession doesn't get more primitive than that. Not many people would understand what that means in the biker world, but I do. And you do, too. You just can't accept it.”

“If I accept it, I'm staying in Conundrum.”

Dawn laughed. “If you didn't want to accept it, you would have contacted Jeff already and made your trade.”

Arianne cringed inwardly. Should she tell Dawn she'd been in touch with Jeff? Dawn ran hot and cold with Jeff depending on how drugged up he was when he showed up at the bar or her apartment, but how could she not share with her bestie?

“I did.” She waved the bartender over, not daring to look Dawn in the eye. “I texted him the phone number Bunny gave me, and he offered to drop off the passport with Jeft. But I wanted to see him again. I just need to know, whatever decision I make, he's going to be okay.”

“I hope you decide to stay,” Dawn said softly. “More than anything. For you and for me. You and Jagger are good together. You're different since you met him. More confident. More determined. Happier.”

“Safe.” Arianne twisted her mother's ring around her finger. “I feel safe when I'm with him. But that's a problem. He wants … no, needs … to protect me. And if I stay in Conundrum, I need to be able to protect myself.”

They ordered their drinks. Free, of course. She hadn't been certain Jagger would actually give in, but when the bartender told them girls' drinks were on the house, a warm feeling had spread through her body.

“I think you're right that I've changed in the last few weeks.” She stirred her Long Island Iced Tea. “I don't spend every minute of every day thinking about ways to escape or what Viper is going to do to me next, or even what life would be like after I leave Conundrum. For the first time, I'm kinda liking my life here.”

“You have changed.” Dawn sipped her margarita. “In a nutshell, you've become badass. You walk, talk, strut, ride, and shoot like a badass biker chick. I would blame Jagger, but I think you had it in you all along. You just needed a bigger badass to set you free.”

Arianne laughed. “What about you and Cade? He's hunting for you. I've been watching him since he came in. He's tapped pretty much every blonde in the place, and he's heading this way.”

“He's trouble.” Dawn bit her lip. “We wound up in bed together again that night he showed up at the pool hall. But I told him it had to be the last time. I mean … our sexual chemistry is off the charts. The minute I'm near him, all I can think about is getting his hot ass into my bed. But after we do the nasty, all I can think about is getting him out. I can't have anyone in my life right now. I have two little girls who need their mommy and I need to focus my energy that way.”

“Dawn…” Arianne gave Dawn's hand a sympathetic squeeze. “You have to look out for yourself, too. The girls wouldn't begrudge you a little happiness.”

Dawn's voice hitched, and she gave the bartender a wan smile when he slid another drink across the counter. “Cade is a distraction. One night was good. The second night … okay, it was epic. But I don't want him thinking there's more where that came from. How am I going to say no?”

“Like this … ‘No.'”

“Easy to say.” Dawn gave a wry laugh. “Not so easy to do. You think you could say no to Jagger?”

Arianne blushed. “Actually, last night I said no. Several times. But that's just because I didn't think I could come that many times in a row. Really, he's everything I've been running from: a biker, living in Conundrum, an MC president, dominant, possessive, aggressive, prone to violence … but he's also everything I ever secretly imagined. I can relax with him, be myself, laugh. He makes me feel safe. He's devastatingly gorgeous and amazing in bed. He's a great leader, and the whole protective and possessive thing—”

“My girl's stayin' in Conundrum.” Dawn grinned and then turned to chat with a couple of her friends who had spotted them at the bar.

Arianne exchanged a few words with the new arrivals, but her skin prickled with awareness. He was here. Whether it was some slight change in the vibe of the room, or the way a path cleared near the door, she just knew he was waiting.

After excusing herself from the group, she pushed her way through the crowd, back to the table she and Dawn had snagged when they first came in. And there he was, sprawled in a chair, legs parted wide, his gaze fixed on her. Intent. Carnal. Predatory. He licked his lips and her panties dampened.

“Speak of the devil.” Dawn appeared at her elbow, drink in hand.

Unable to look away, Arianne just stared. He was breathtakingly gorgeous, dominating the bar with the force of his presence alone. His jeans were a feast of denim over powerful thighs, tight in all the right places. Broad shoulders covered the back of the chair and his cut hung open, giving her a mouth-watering glimpse of his black T-shirt stretched taut over his rippling abs.

Images of their night together flashed through her mind—his lips on her skin, the rough way he'd handled her, the soft whispers in her ear.

The promise she had made this morning.

Jagger's lazy gaze drifted down her body then back up to rest on the lowest-cut neckline she had ever worn—the main reason the dress had lived in Dawn's closet so long. His eyes lit with an inner glow and he crooked his finger, beckoning her over.

“Looks like your man is calling.”

“Arrogant bastard.” A smile tugged the corners of Arianne's lips. “Does he think I'm going to come running because he waggled his finger?”

“That would be a yes.” Cade joined them and wrapped his arms around Dawn's waist. “Man sees his woman dressed all fine, looking hot as fuck, he's not gonna waste any time getting his hands on her.” He nuzzled Dawn's ear and she tipped her head to the side to give him better access.

“See,” she mouthed. “Can't say no.”

Arianne looked up and almost melted under the heat of Jagger's gaze. So he liked what he saw, did he? Maybe the dress wasn't a bad idea after all. And if she could get him hot … Drawing in a deep breath, she flipped her hair and walked toward him, slow and sexy, hips swaying, her gaze fixed on his, working it with every click of her shiny black stilettos.

By the time she reached his chair, his hand was fisted on his thigh, his lips pressed together. Her eyes dropped to his neck, and she watched his pulse throb beneath his skin. What would happen if she took a little lick?

“Hey, baby.” She dropped her hands to her hips and tilted her head to the side. She had never thought of herself as a sexual person, never flirted or played games, and although she liked the way she looked, she'd never considered herself pretty. But the way Jagger's eyes roved over her, as if there were no one else in the bar, naked hunger in his gaze, made her feel like the sexiest woman in the whole damn world.