Repair and repair again. That’s the nature of the beast. So learn your skills well.
—SINNER’S TRIBE MOTORCYCLE REPAIR MANUAL
She was going to kill him. No doubt about it. The second she got these damn cuffs off she would hunt him down and then …
No. Death would be too good for him. She would make him suffer instead. Then she would kill him. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
But first, she needed to get to Ty.
A wave of nausea crashed over Evie at the thought of Ty running down the street, so distressed he’d left in his pajamas, only to be grabbed by strangers. He would have been so frightened and he didn’t even have his bear. Despair gripped her throat and she forced herself to take a breath. And then another. She couldn’t help Ty if she broke down now.
The handcuffs rattled as she pulled against the chain. Damn radiator refused to move and her wrist was raw and bleeding from trying to work her hand free; it looked so easy in the movies.
“Help!” She kneeled beside the window and shouted through the glass. But, of course, so early on a Saturday morning, no one was around.
She slumped against the wall and cursed Zane under her breath using every single bad word she’d ever learned. Damn him. Damn him for being protective and loving, and then railroading over her wishes when it mattered the most.
Her phone buzzed in her purse and Evie groaned. She’d already tried to reach her bag, but it was near the door and there was nothing close she could use to pull it toward her. But what about a push?
Her gaze fell on the toy box she’d emptied in her first attempt to reach her purse. Lego bricks, superhero figures, trucks and spaceships, and a remote-control car Zane had bought for Ty yesterday after the funeral. Evie picked up the remote and turned the car on. Ty had been impressed with her ability to maneuver the car around the furniture, but was it strong enough to push her purse? She cleared a path around her and steered it toward the door, the tiny taillights flashing as she drove it under the coffee table and into the tiled entrance way. So far so good. She turned it the vehicle around and aimed it at her purse. Go, car, go.
At first, the car drove over her purse sailing over the edge like a dune buggy in the desert. She reduced the speed and the back wheels whined as they spun against the carpet. Evie backed the car up and tried again, this time hitting the purse at just the right angle, and with enough speed to make it move. Sweat trickled between her breasts as the purse inched closer and closer until, finally, it was close enough to touch.
Score! Ty would have been proud. All those years hanging around with Zane and Jagger had come in useful, and not just for video game skills.
She called Connie first, telling her to come with something strong enough to break handcuffs. Although Deputy Benson was outside, she suspected he wouldn’t give her the key for fear of what Zane might do to him if he found out Benson let her go.
Connie arrived twenty minutes later with a pair of bolt cutters, borrowed from a neighbor, and twenty dollars for the swear jar so she could fully express her disdain for Zane without restraint or inhibition. The moment the cuffs slipped off her wrist, Evie raced to the bathroom, a minor detail Zane seemed to have forgotten in his haste to keep her away from Viper.
“Glad you were able to hold it,” Connie shouted through the bathroom door. “I wouldn’t have come over here as fast if I thought you’d pissed yourself, too.”
“Nice. Very nice.” Evie glared as she walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later. “I’m glad to know the limits of our friendship.”
“Piss is definitely one of them.” Connie looked Evie up and down and her smile faded. “So you’re still going through with it? You’re gonna go see Viper?”
“I don’t have a choice. The police aren’t going to be able to get to Ty, and I’m not leaving his life in the hands of a gang of outlaw bikers who live by a code that puts their club first, or a man who asked me to trust him, then showed his love by handcuffing me to the radiator. Ty needs someone who is there for him and only him, and the only person who can do that is me.”
“You can’t go in alone.” Connie reached into her purse and pulled out a .22. “I’ll go with you. I’ve even got a gun. Tank made me buy it. He said if I was hanging out with bikers, then I needed to be armed. He even taught me a few things about shooting.”
And get herself shot in the meantime. Evie placed a gentle hand on Connie’s arm. “I can’t let you come with me. Viper took Ty to get to me and not, as Zane seems to think, to get back at the club. I have to deal with him on my own.”
“Babe, you gotta have backup. We’ve watched enough movies together so you know what happens when someone decides to face the bad guy alone.” Connie shook Evie gently by the shoulders. “They never come out alive. And then you’re left wondering who the new main character’s gonna be.”
“He’s not going to kill me.”
“You don’t know that,” Connie said. “You think you know Viper. You think maybe he can be tamed. But really, he’s still a wild animal—the elephant who runs off into the jungle with tourists on his back, or the lion who bites off his trainer’s head after they’ve been together for twenty years. It’s like that story I read to Ty the other night … the one about the frog who carried the scorpion across the water because the scorpion promised not to sting him, and then they both died because the scorpion stung him anyway because it was in his nature.”
“I never knew about that morbid streak of yours,” Evie said, but Connie’s words gave her pause. Viper had seemed like a normal guy when he first came into her shop. They’d talked, laughed, discussed her art … Even when they’d gone for dinner he’d behaved like a regular guy. And then he’d killed Bill and burned down her shop and acted like nothing had happened. Like Connie said, violence was in his nature. Okay. She couldn’t go in without backup, or at least some kind of leverage. And she had to do it the biker way.
But who should she call?
Of course. Arianne.
* * *
“I can’t fucking believe it.” Cade handed the binoculars to Zane. “Is Viper that fucking arrogant? He’s only got six guards down there.”
Zane flattened himself on the rise above Viper’s cabin hideaway, still struggling to believe he wasn’t here alone. But as he’d strapped on his weapons at the clubhouse, ready to do battle with Viper and rescue his son, he thought about T-Rex’s funeral and how the brothers were all there for each other, and how together they had made it through the most difficult times. He had steeled himself to ask for help, but when he went down the stairs, they were all armed and waiting. His brothers. His friends.
“He probably thinks no one will find him,” Jagger said. “My place is pretty isolated. Unless someone ratted me out, I’d be surprised if a bunch of Jacks showed up.”
“How did we find him?” Sparky unzipped his pack and pulled out a box of ammo.
Zane focused his binoculars on the house. “I had Hacker put a GPS tracker in Ty’s Batman watch last time he was at the clubhouse playing vids. It worked so well tracking down Cade after Benson locked him in the slammer, I figured it was good idea. I also had Hacker put trackers in Evie’s new vehicle and a bug in her phone.”
Sparky let out a long low whistle. “I’m guessing she doesn’t know.”
“We all do it,” Cade said. “And none of the old ladies know. But we gotta keep them safe. Make sure we know where they are at all times…”
“Cade’s still worried Dawn’s got a thing for Benson,” Jagger said, smirking. “After all, she almost went into witness protection with him.”
Cade slammed a magazine into his gun. “Benson knows if he even looks at Dawn I’ll rip off his fucking arms.”
“I don’t think those are the guards.” Dax handed the binoculars to Sparky. “They’re busy like little ants. I think they’re doing some kind of construction. The guards are the ones standing around looking bored.”
Zane lay down and looked over the rise. “What the fuck do you know about ants? Did you torture them for fun when you were a kid?”
“Yeah, I did. Burned them with a magnifying glass. Just got an ant farm for my oldest. But I told him not to do what I did ’cause it’s cruel.”
Cade snorted. “Says the club torturer.”
Dax gave an indignant sniff. “I don’t hurt indiscriminately. Only the bastards you bring me. And only until they give me the information I want.” He hesitated and then shrugged. “Okay. And afterward, maybe a bit for fun.”
Sparky snapped open the tripod on his Barnett M98B sniper rifle. “So what’s the plan? I take them all out by myself while you losers yap like a bunch of old ladies?”
“I prefer the stealth approach.” Zane rolled over and pulled out his knife. “No noise. No gunshots to warn everyone we’re coming.”
“Ah. Ah. Ah … I think slicing a Black Jack’s throat might be a breach of your bail conditions.” Cade chuckled. “And I think some of us are felons. Someone call the fucking cops and haul this fucker’s ass back to jail.”
“Anyone need a weapon?” Tank came up behind them with the duffel bag he and Gunner had hauled up the hill. “Evie and Connie dug up the weapons Big Bill stole from the Jacks last week. He had them stashed in his father’s grave. Gun and I bought them for the club, although I think we might have overpaid. They drove a pretty hard bargain.”
Jesus Fucking Christ. What the hell was going on? Why was Evie selling stolen weapons, and why the fuck hadn’t she told him about them? How could they trust each other if she was going to go behind his back and put herself in danger? Of course, he had handcuffed her to the radiator, but still … that was a trust issue. Dealing in stolen weapons had to do with safety.
“You wanna call Evie?” Jagger gave Zane a nudge. “Tell her we’ve found him and we’re going in so she doesn’t worry?”
“She won’t be able to get to the phone.” He felt a stab of remorse, but then he thought about what she’d intended to do and his resolve hardened. Damn woman had no idea of the danger she was in, or the risk to Ty if she followed the course of action she intended to take.
Jagger lifted an eyebrow. “Do I want to know?”
“You may want to send a coupla brothers over there with this key.” He pulled the key out of his pocket and handed it to Jagger. “She was gonna go to Viper and bargain herself for Ty so I handcuffed her to the radiator. Whoever goes to get her should be armed and wearing a padded safety suit, maybe a helmet and a face mask. I got Benson checking on her through the window every half hour or so.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Jagger tucked the key into the pocket of his cut. “Well, that’s the end of that relationship.”
“Nah.” Dax laughed. “That’s called having a family. Anything to do with the kids and the old ladies go fucking ballistic and start thinkin’ they’re gonna handle things themselves. A man’s gotta know how to deal with them. I always keep a set of cuffs in the house.”
“Listen to the big talker shootin’ off his mouth like Sandy doesn’t have him by the balls.” Cade snorted. “You got those cuffs ’cause you’re a kinky bastard.”
“Guess we’re all kinky bastards ’cause I heard you cuffed Dawn to the bathroom sink when she found out some bully hit one of your little twin girls.”
“My girls. My responsibility.” Cade puffed out his chest. “That nine-year-old bully’s not gonna be saying dick to anyone on that playground ever again. And after I got home and uncuffed Dawn I made sure she understand how things were gonna be with me and the girls.”
“Wasn’t that the day you showed up with a black eye?” Gunner pushed himself to his feet and grabbed a branch for balance. His old injury from the night the Jacks burned down the Sinner clubhouse still bothered him, but he would never admit to suffering any pain.
“You want a fucking black eye now?”
“Like I said.” Jagger looked over at Zane and grinned. “That’s the end of that relationship.”
“No, like I said.” Dax laughed. “It’s called having a family. Sinner style.”