Текст книги "Sinner's Steel"
Автор книги: Sarah Castille
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 22 страниц)
“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.”
“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.
“I put twenty on you showing up in fifteen minutes.” Sparky twisted the top off his beer. “Jagger had his money on five. Cade on ten. Gunner didn’t buy in because he spent all his money at Peelers.”
“Pay up.” Jagger waved his arm vaguely around the room. “I need all the cash I can get. Arianne runs through ammo like civilian ladies run through shoes.”
Zane leaned against the wall as money was exchanged, too wound up to sit. Hell, he couldn’t even handle a beer. He wanted Evie upstairs, in his bed, safe and in his arms. Maybe then his rage would subside.
“Viper dies tonight,” he blurted out. “I’m heading out. With or without the club.”
Jagger raised an eyebrow and took a long, slow drink. “I’ll let that one slide because I know you’ve just been through fucking hell. Going after Viper alone is a suicide mission. We’ve got Mario undercover in the Black Jack clubhouse now and he says Viper’s doing a meet at the Riverside Bar tomorrow night. We’ll do a double strike. Half the brothers will go for T-Rex because security will be light with Viper gone. The other half will go to Riverside. Benson’s gonna keep the cops off our back until it’s done.” He placed the beer carefully on the table. “I expect you to be there. If you go off tonight and get yourself killed, I will chase you down in the afterlife and hell will seem like fucking heaven when I’m done with you.”
“You always were a goddamn bastard.”
“You saved my life more times than I can count,” Jaggers said. “I’m just returning the favor.” He lifted his beer again, tipped the bottle in salute. “Now go see your woman and your son. They need you more than I need to look at your ugly face.”
“He’s not that ugly,” Gunner mused. “Actually with those fine cheekbones and that long hair, he’s kinda pretty. And ever since he met Evie, his eyes have that special glow.” He batted his eyelashes and Sparky spluttered out his beer.
“You’re the one who’s glowing. How many times did you get your knob polished last night?”
“You’re just jealous.” Gunner smirked. “When’s the last time you had a woman in your bed that you didn’t have to pay?”
Sparky folded his arms and glared. “Look who’s fucking talking. You couldn’t even buy into the pool right now ’cause you blew all your cash at Peelers.”
“At least I got a blow, brother. You got dick all.”
Usually Zane enjoyed their banter, but right now he had no patience for jokes or laughter. He needed Evie like he needed air to breathe. She calmed him, soothed him, helped fight the darkness that threatened his control.
He didn’t know what he would do if he lost her again.
Probably die.
* * *
After leaving Ty to play basketball at the side of the clubhouse with Shooter and a jaw-droppingly handsome young biker named Hacker, Evie followed Tank back inside for a tour of the clubhouse.
As she trailed behind him, Evie was reminded of the frat parties she’d snuck into as a teen. A huge crystal chandelier dominated the massive front hall, leading to a grand, slightly curved staircase, with an ornate carved balustrade. The oak floors were bare, and scuffed, although the walls clearly had been refinished and painted judging from their cleanliness relative to the rest of the clubhouse. Here and there she caught glimpses of antique furniture, covered in beer cans and riding gloves, pizza boxes and papers. Framed pictures of motorcycles and women on bikes adorned the walls, and the pungent, yeasty odor of stale beer permeated every room.
Tank led her into the kitchen just as Zane was walking out. Jagger, Cade, Sparky and Gunner were drinking beer and laughing, but Zane’s face had smoothed to an expressionless mask as it always did when he fought against strong emotion.
“Wait.” She placed a hand on Zane’s chest and he froze mid-step. “There’s something I need to tell you and you might want to share it with Jagger.” She glanced over at her now-rapt audience and lowered her voice. “Maybe we should talk outside. Viper was there. He said something to me about Stanton.”
Pain flickered across Zane’s face so fast she wasn’t sure if she’d seen it. “It’s okay. They know about Stanton. Everyone on the executive board and Arianne. You can say anything in front of them. I trust my brothers.”
Evie wound one hand around his arm, and gave the group a nervous smile. “Viper was outside the café today. He must have been part of the shooting. He held Ty and me at gunpoint and—”
“Son of a bitch.” Zane ripped her hand away. “Jag. Now.”
“Let her finish.” Jagger held up his hand and nodded for Evie to continue.
“He knows about the warrant for Zane’s arrest. He threatened to give the information to the police unless I … er … went with him. I didn’t.” She shrugged. “Obviously.”
Silence.
When they continued to stare at her, she swallowed and looked away. “I thought there was a better chance that you could protect Zane than taking the risk of going with Viper only to have him make the call anyway. I’m not sure how he got that information.”
“T-Rex.” Jagger’s voice shook with rage. “He’s getting intel from T-Rex.”
A wave of dizziness hit her and she gripped Zane’s arm. There was only one way to get information from an unwilling prisoner and she couldn’t bear to think of T-Rex in pain.
“Do you believe me now?” Jagger met the gaze of every man in the room save Zane. “I told you she would never betray us. Evie’s no Black Jack spy. She just didn’t understand who Viper was. Now she does and she’s on our side.”
Shock took her breath away. She had never even considered that they would think she was a spy. And yet, Zane had never asked the question. He trusted her implicitly. He had faith in her.
So how could she ask him the questions Viper had raised? How could she ask if they had a dungeon, and if they did if they had imprisoned Viper’s old lady? How could she ask about the man called Wheels or the Black Jacks Zane had supposedly shot in Whitefish? How could she make him think she didn’t trust him? And, if her loyalty was in doubt, asking those questions might raise suspicions all over again. But more than that, did she really want to know? Because if Viper was right about those things, maybe he was right about her father’s death, and then, what would she do?
“Let’s go.” Zane tugged her arm, drawing her away from the kitchen.
“They thought I was a spy,” she said as they walked down the hall. “I didn’t ask to be associated with the club. I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“We had a Black Jack rat in the house a while back.” He looked straight ahead as he spoke, his body rigid, barely touching hers. “He joined the club as a prospect, and he had us fooled. His background and his papers all checked out. He hid his skills so well, he had us wondering if he was good enough to patch in, which is what they wanted. In and out. Minimize the chances of being caught. By the time we figured it out, it was almost too late. I almost lost Jagger that day. Second worst fucking day of my life.”
“What was the first?”
“The day I lost you.”
