I do not fear death. Death will fear me.
SINNER’S TRIBE CREED
“Doors open in five minutes. Quit your yapping and get out front.”
Joe Banks, proprietor of Banks Bar, lifted a warning eyebrow and glared at Dawn and her best friend, Arianne, engaged in a deep discussion in the middle of the stockroom.
“The bar isn’t open yet.” Dawn returned his scowl. “There are no customers I need to serve, and I haven’t seen my bestie in a week. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
“That’s what phones are for.”
Arianne laughed as she twisted her long, dark hair into a ponytail. Tall and slim, with startling green eyes and a perfectly oval face, she and Dawn had bonded her first day on the job over Banks’s gruff manner, his pawing customers, and a shared fondness for flavored vodka.
“That’s what stockrooms are for,” Arianne said. “So wipe that frown off your face and let us have our little catch-up, or this bartender is going to walk and take your best waitress with her.”
“Ever since you became Jagger’s old lady, you got a serious attitude problem,” Banks grumbled as he hoisted a box on his shoulder. “Before you hooked up with him, you were sweet, nice, easy to get along with. Now you’re telling me how it is, wearing your damn cut while you’re working the bar, throwing me out of my stockroom … I liked you better when you were just Viper’s runaway daughter. Before, you had more respect.”
Dawn laughed and kissed his cheek. Ex-law-enforcement, with one hell of a ripped body and the chiseled good looks to match, Banks was a close friend, and more often than not she found herself eating pizza and watching westerns at his apartment when she had a rare evening off. Arianne thought they were a good match, but Banks was too straitlaced for Dawn. She’d always had a wild side. And if not for the streak of rebel in her, she’d never have been able to run away from home the night she turned fourteen.
“It’s not just Arianne; I don’t respect you, either,” Dawn teased. “Like you. But no respect.”
“Fired.” He pushed open the swinging door leading to the bar. “Both of you. Fired.”
“Is that the first time we’re fired tonight?” Arianne leaned against the wall, arms folded over the Sinner’s Tribe cut Jagger insisted she wear when she worked the bar. The Sinner patch alone would have been enough to save her from roaming hands, but the PROPERTY OF JAGGER rocker above it kept all but the most ignorant away.
Dawn tied her apron around her waist. “Yep. But it won’t be the last.”
Banks wasn’t given to overt affection. His threats to fire them were the closest he got to expressing friendship. That and saving Arianne from her psychotic brother, and then taking a beating from Jagger for his trouble.
Still, he was a good manager and the bar had always done well. Dawn made twice as much money at Banks Bar as she did waitressing at Table Tops restaurant in the mornings, and arranging flowers at Cindy’s Florals in the afternoons. One day, though, when she got her girls back and returned to college, she’d get that Accounting Technology Certificate she’d always dreamed about, a good, stable, high-paying job, and maybe even study for her CPA. Just like her dad.
At least that had been the dream a year ago.
Shortly after meeting Cade, she’d taken the bold step of filing for a divorce, and then she’d lost the girls. After that, determined to regain custody, she had no time for men, not the engaging new Conundrum deputy sheriff, Doug Benson, and especially not bikers, and most particularly not bikers who thought they were God’s gift to women.
“So … finish telling me about Cade.” Arianne gave Dawn a nudge after the door closed behind Banks. Arianne knew about Dawn’s past, although not the reason Dawn had run away from home, or what happened to her on the streets before Jimmy found her—some doors were better left closed. “You gonna see him again?”
“No.” Dawn checked the small mirror near the coat hooks and fluffed her curls. The bigger the hair the better the tips. “I broke it off last year after those two hot nights for a reason. And that reason was right in my face this afternoon. Present company excluded, of course, outlaw bikers are bad news.”
“You can’t judge all outlaw bikers solely on what you experienced with Jimmy and the Brethren. The Sinners care about their women, protect them.” She gave Dawn a wry smile. “Some women even get respect.”
“They have bylaws and rules, but they don’t follow the law. And they’re misogynistic to the core.”
“True.” Arianne gave her a wink. “But you just have to learn how to work the system.”
“I’m not you,” Dawn said. “I’m not badass to the bone and make all men except Jagger quake in their biker boots when I walk past. I’ve been betrayed in one way or another by every man I trusted, but I survived Jimmy and fought my way free. Now I’m fighting for my girls. I don’t have time for men, and I’m not about to open myself up again, especially to a man like Cade.”
“What kind of man do you think he is?”
“The dangerous kind,” Dawn said. “The kind of man a woman dreams about, but never wants to meet because the reality of him overwhelms any fantasy. Powerful. Dominant. A biker. The kind of man I promised myself I would never fall for again.”
And a womanizer, or so she’d heard after their two nights together. Charming, handsome, and seductive, but totally unfaithful, unable to commit, and unrepentant for his “crimes.” The last time she’d been to a Sinner party, she’d heard rumors that Cade never slept with the same woman twice. She’d been tempted to share the fact that she had, in fact, slept with Cade twice, but she decided instead to slip out of the party and out of his life.
“I thought you liked him.” Arianne rounded the bar and took up her position behind the polished wood counter.
Dawn grabbed a serving tray from the shelf behind Arianne. “I don’t really know him. We didn’t talk much. We were too busy ripping off each other’s clothes and having sizzling-hot sex in his room at the clubhouse. And both mornings, coward that I am, I sneaked away at daybreak so I didn’t have to tell him to his face I couldn’t see him again.”
“And yet after that first night, you did.” Arianne waved to the first customer in the door. Dawn grabbed her notepad from the counter and stuffed it in her apron.
“But not after the second time.” She turned away so Arianne wouldn’t see the regret on her face. She’d felt something the second time—a longing that tugged at her heart and kept her awake long after Cade had fallen asleep, an inexplicable certainty that nothing and no one would harm her while she lay in his arms.
She’d never felt so safe since her parents died, and the memories of their unconditional love and the good times they shared together—picnics and hikes in the mountains, playing number games with her dad and gardening with her mom—still made her heart ache. With Jimmy, she’d walked a fine line between affection and anger. One wrong step, one misspoken word and he would turn on her, his punishment swift, brutal, and invariably cruel.
She couldn’t afford to have those longings. Dreams, hopes, and desires that did nothing to help get her kids back were a waste of time and energy. A heartbreak waiting to happen. Maybe one day, when she and her girls were together again and living far, far away from Jimmy and the Devil’s Brethren …
“Hey, gorgeous.”
She looked up as T-Rex, the newest full-patch member of the Sinners, joined them at the bar. Tall, blond, and built like a linebacker, with a broad face and a warm smile, T-Rex was a favorite in the club, and one of the few bikers who didn’t set Dawn’s teeth on edge. And that was saying something.
“Corona. Cold. No lime. No glass.” Dawn rattled off his drink as T-Rex sat on one of the bar stools and chuckled.
“Damn. Don’t know how you do that, but you impress the brothers every time they stop by for a drink. Even if Cade hadn’t laid down the law, they wouldn’t be cracking blonde jokes about you.”
Dawn froze, her hand outstretched for the bottle Arianne was opening. “What do you mean, he laid down the law?” After she’d made it clear to Cade she wasn’t interested in seeing him again, he’d respected her wishes and stayed away. She’d assumed he had found someone new, likely one of the club’s sweet butts. Lower than old ladies and house mamas in the biker hierarchy, the young women who hung around the clubhouse, helping out and offering their services in return for food, shelter, and protection, were desperate to find a biker who would make them an old lady. And Cade, handsome, charming, unattached, and always willing, was quite the catch.
T-Rex’s eyes widened, his usually affable expression turning to wariness. “You know.”
“I don’t know, or I wouldn’t have asked.”
“Well…” He coughed and looked around, but there were no other Sinners in the bar to save him. “He kinda … you know … warned the brothers away. Said you were his, ’cept you were wanting to take things slow. So no one was to touch you, hit on you, or disrespect you if they saw you at the bar or if you came with Arianne to our parties.”
Dawn shot T-Rex an incredulous look. “Seriously? Except for this afternoon, it’s been over a year since I’ve seen him. How slow do the brothers think I want to take it?”
“You saw Cade this afternoon?”
“Yeah.”
“You tell Jagger?”
Puzzled, she frowned. “Why would I tell Jagger?”
But T-Rex already had his cell in his hand. “We’re supposed to call in if we see Cade or hear anything about him. He sent a text to Jagger saying he was up at a warehouse in the North West checking out a Brethren sighting. He didn’t report back. I figured he probably just hooked up with some chick and…” He cut himself off with a grimace. “Sorry.”
“No problem. It’s not like we’re together. I’m sure he was with some ‘chick.’” But she wasn’t so sure. Could Jimmy have hurt Cade? Although Jimmy hadn’t made any effort to drag her back to the clubhouse after she ran away—he had someone new to warm his bed the next day—he’d told her through Shelly-Ann he would kill anyone who touched her. And Jimmy wasn’t one to make idle threats.
“Actually…” She hesitated, not wanting to share her business, but sufficiently concerned to give him the most relevant information. “He saw Jimmy ‘Mad Dog’ Sanchez, VP of the Devil’s Brethren, outside St. Francis Xavier’s School about three-thirty this afternoon and went chasing after him. They headed north on Twenty-Seventh Avenue.”
T-Rex texted her information and then looked up. “How do you know Mad Dog, or the Devil’s Brethren? I thought you were just a civilian.”
Damn. She’d managed to keep her past a secret from all but her closest friends. The last thing she wanted was Jagger breathing down her neck, hounding her for details of an enemy MC. Arianne described Jagger as a sensual, loving, caring man, but all Dawn saw was a powerful, violent, ruthless biker who would let nothing stand in the way of his goals. And Arianne had been one of them.
“I am just a civilian, and one who had better get back to work.” She forced a smile and then quickly wove her way through the tables to the far end of the bar, away from T-Rex and his questioning looks, and out of range of a possible phone call from Jagger.
Although … Her hand dropped as she considered an option she had quickly dismissed in the past. Now that the wheels had been set in motion—Jimmy crossing the uncrossable line, Cade finding out about their relationship—maybe now was the time to ask for Jagger’s help. No one in Montana except possibly Arianne’s father, Viper, president of the Black Jacks MC, wielded as much power or had as much influence in Montana’s criminal underworld as Jagger.
But why would he help her? Arianne’s friendship wouldn’t be enough for him to put any of the Sinners at risk. She needed more—leverage, a connection—something that would make it worth his while or call upon his sense of duty. And she’d have to give something back. Favors—or marks, as bikers called them—weren’t free. They came at a steep price, and that price took her right back into the biker world she was determined to leave behind. Not only that, she had nothing to offer.
* * *
Fuck.
Cade tried to stretch the cramp out of his legs, but the Brethren had done a good job of hog-tying him before throwing him in the back of the van. At least they hadn’t broken any bones when they’d jumped him in the warehouse. Six against one was hardly fair, especially in the dark. Three he could have handled. Maybe four.
But that’s what he got for his arrogance. If he’d had any sense, he would have waited for backup before he entered the building. Now he could only hope the Sinners would find him before the Brethren decided he was worth more dead than alive. Killing him and dumping his body would send a powerful message, although he still couldn’t understand how they thought they could take on his club.
Unless they weren’t working alone.
He gritted his teeth as the van rattled over the bumpy road. Damn uncomfortable lying on the metal surface. But then he’d never thought about the comfort of the men he’d kidnapped, either.
The vehicle slowed to a stop and his heart pounded in his chest. He’d heard them arguing about what to do with him for most of the trip. Protocol, such as it was in the biker world, demanded they hand him over to their president, Wolf, to make the call. Cade didn’t know any MC that would condone the kind of vigilante action these losers were contemplating. Executions were almost always at the discretion of the MC president, especially if the purpose was political.
The van doors slammed open and Cade blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light from the setting sun. Someone cut the ropes around his feet and he was hauled out of the van and pushed to his knees on the deserted gravel road. Mad Dog stood in front of him and pointed his Desert Eagle .50 at his head.
Pussy. With a fucking useless pussy weapon.
“Say your prayers, Sinner.”
“Fuck, Mad Dog. This ain’t right.” A tall, gangly redhead with a scraggly beard and a name patch that read RUSTY put a hand on Mad Dog’s arm. “This is Wolf’s call. You off him and we’re in a full-out war with the Sinners. We gotta wait until the patch-over, then the Jacks will have our backs.”
Cade sucked in a sharp breath, as a memory twigged at the back of his mind. The warehouse belonged to the Black Jacks. Arianne had been kidnapped and held inside it last year. Jagger had saved her and almost lost his life. If the Jacks were letting the Brethren use the warehouse as a base, then the patch-over was a serious possibility.
Christ. A union between the Sinner’s Tribe’s most powerful rival, the Jacks, and a solid midsized club like the Brethren could spell the end for his MC. The Sinners wouldn’t just lose territory or their dominance of the state; the Jacks would have the muscle to hunt them down and slaughter them one by one.
He needed to get the information to Jagger ASAP. Problem was, he was tied and on his knees with a fucking gun to his head.
“It’s my call.” Mad Dog spat on the ground beside Cade’s knee. “This is personal, not political. He was with my old lady. He had his fucking paws on her. Probably been fucking her, too. I gotta right to protect my property.”
“Thought she wasn’t your old lady no more.” A burly biker with a massive beer gut toyed with his barbecue gun, a nickel-plated fixed-sight .38 super 1911, low on functionality but nice for cowboy shooter types to show off at barbecues or social functions. “And it becomes political once you off him, whatever the reason.”
“Dammit, Trey. She’s a bitch who needs to be kept in line. A man’s got a right to punish his old lady. And that bitch has so much damn attitude, she needs it a lot. She thinks she’s untouchable living in Conundrum, just like she thought she was untouchable when she filed for divorce. But those kids are her weakness. She wants them; she comes home to Daddy. This time tomorrow I’ll be beating her into submission with a bullwhip until she learns not to defy me again, and then I’m gonna fuck her so hard she won’t remember her own name.”
Son of a bitch. Cade itched to get his hands around Mad Dog’s throat. But first he needed to get his hands free.
Mad Dog’s phone buzzed in his cut. He signaled to his Brethren brothers to watch Cade, and then he walked down the road as he engaged in a heated conversation with the caller. Cade continued working the ropes he’d loosened during the trip. Just another inch and he’d be able to show Mad Dog what a real beating was like.
Mad Dog returned a few minutes later, his face red and spittle bubbling at the corners of his lips.
“Wolf knows we got the Sinner. Wants us to let him go. One of you musta texted him during the drive. Who’s the fucking rat?”
Silence.
Although Mad Dog wore a vice president patch, Cade hadn’t been around the group long enough to ascertain just how much power he held in the club. But if one of his supporters had reported the kidnapping to Wolf behind Mad Dog’s back, then he didn’t have the type of loyalty that inspired leadership. Which meant he’d be trying to prove himself, making him twice as dangerous as any of the other Devil’s Brethren gathered around him.
“Fuck.” Mad Dog kicked Cade in the side and Cade clenched his teeth against the pain.
“Wolf says we can rough him up a bit, but until the patch-over is a sure thing, he doesn’t want to start a war with the Sinners.” His lip curled and he spat again. “Wolf is a fucking old man. He’s weak. Yeah, we need the Jacks, but why would we patch over and let them swallow us up instead of becoming a support club and keeping our power? It’s time for a change. Once I’m president, I’ll make this club great again like it was under my old man. I’m not afraid of the damn Sinners. We got lots of new blood. I say we start a war. Bring it on.”
“You got ambition and good ideas but you gotta be patient.” Rusty held up a warning hand. “You’re not gonna help your case in the election if you outright defy Wolf. You gotta show you can toe the party line until it’s your fucking party. We should do as Wolf says. Beat him good and let him go.”
“But now he knows about the patch-over.” Trey cuffed Cade on the head.
Dammit to hell. If they intended to rough him up, why not a few proper kicks and punches? Get it over with instead of pussyfooting around.
“What’s he gonna do? Go to Viper and tell him it’s a bad idea? Sinners can’t stop a fucking patch-over. It’s got nothing to do with them. And it’s better this way.” Mad Dog fisted Cade’s hair and yanked his head back. “Now they’ll be running scared.”
“Sinners aren’t scared of anything, especially not roaches like you.” Cade felt the ropes around his wrists slacken and steeled himself to wait for the perfect moment. These bastards were so going down.
“You should be scared.” Mad Dog lifted Cade’s chin with the butt of his gun, forcing Cade to meet his cold, dark gaze. “Six to one on a deserted road in the mountains and your hands are tied. We might not be allowed to kill you, but we can hurt you pretty damn bad.”