Beyond the Cut (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #2)(14)

“I’m with Cade,” Shaggy said. “We lost good men in the war with the Brethren all those years ago. Good friends of mine. There’ll be bad blood if we let them into the club.”

“There won’t be a club if we don’t expand our numbers.” Irritation laced Jagger’s tone. “The Jacks are actively recruiting supporters, and if we want to maintain our status as the dominant MC in Montana, and put the f*cking Jacks in their place, we need to expand our membership. A solid midsized club like the Brethren could tip the balance either way.”

“The Jacks and Brethren together would be hard to beat,” T-Rex said. “The Brethren have their own network of support clubs. Not big ones, but enough that we would be spread thin if we had to defend against them and the Jacks.”

Jagger rubbed his brow, a sure sign he was conflicted about his proposal. “We need the bodies, but we don’t need them all. We can pick and choose. Right now these discussions are just between Wolf and me, and the executive boards. The way I see it, as long as Wolf is tied up in negotiations with me, he won’t be negotiating with Viper. And since the election is still a few weeks away, we have a chance to investigate his MC and make a decision about whether any of his brothers are worthy of the Sinner name. None of the men who beat on Cade will wear our patch, guaranteed. And Mad Dog—”

“Dead,” Shaggy said.

“Not yet.” Jagger rubbed his brow again. “Wolf had a condition. He knows the value of his club, and he knows the advantage the Brethren numbers will give us over the Jacks. Mad Dog is his nephew. He wants our word he won’t be touched.”

“Mad Dog is JC’s boy?” Zane let out a strangled groan. “He’ll have a vendetta against us for killing his dad.”

“Mad Dog doesn’t wear our patch.” Jagger firmed his voice. “Ever. Wolf knows that. But he wants us to spare his life. In exchange for our mercy, he’s offered us a shipment of AK-47s, just in from Korea, that he has stored in a warehouse up in Whitefish.”

There were a few angry murmurs around the table but Jagger’s gaze fixed on Cade. “This is your call, brother. Your justice. Your vengeance. If you don’t agree, we turn Wolf down and we go after Mad Dog and his men as soon as this meeting ends.”

Cade took a deep, calming breath as he stared at the picture above Zane’s head, a half-naked woman leaning over a Harley Fat Boy, not unlike almost every other picture nailed to the walls. The meeting room had once been a dining room, but the fancy fixtures and fittings had been removed, and after it was painted, it was decorated in true biker form.

And a true biker lived by the code “Club First.”

Although he burned to jump on his bike and hunt down Mad Dog and his men, Wolf’s proposal could secure the club’s future, and end the war against the Jacks that had already claimed too many Sinner lives. He had to protect his club at any cost.

“I’ll waive my claim against Mad Dog for the club. He’s still bound by the restriction on any Brethren coming into our town so it’s not like he can rub it in our faces. But we have to take some action to address the Brethren’s disrespect or everyone will think we’re weak. Since Mad Dog’s men will never wear our patch, I say we hunt them down and give them a taste of Sinner justice.”

“All vote.” Jagger raised his hand, and rest of the board members followed suit.

“No one will forget the sacrifice you’ve made for the club,” Jagger said quietly. “And you have my word, as soon as the Brethren are patched into our club, and subject to Sinner law, Mad Dog will die.”

Cade swallowed past the lump in his throat. This is why he had joined the Sinners. Honor. Brotherhood. Loyalty. Men who would stand up for him. Men who always had his back.

His club.

His tribe.

“If the Jacks approached the Brethren, then they must be feeling vulnerable,” Cade said. “We should take advantage of the opportunity. If we weaken them enough while you’re negotiating terms with Wolf, we won’t even need the Brethren support.”

Jagger nodded his agreement. “We should hit them hard, and hit them now.”

“We’ll need more weapons to launch an offensive.” Gunner shoved a piece of paper across the table. “I got a lead on an arms shipment coming across the border heading for that Mafia boss in Helena, Franco Rizzoli. He hired the Jacks to run protection. If we ambush them, we’ll get fifty thousand dollars worth of weapons and take out some Jacks as a bonus.”

Jagger leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head. A man content. He hadn’t always been that way, but Arianne had smoothed out his edges. Cade had edges, too, but he was pretty damn sure no woman could smooth them out. Some wounds just couldn’t be healed.

“Gunner can organize the Rizzoli ambush.” Jagger pointed to each man as he assigned tasks. “Cade and Zane, you go up to Whitefish with the prospect and get Wolf’s AKs. Demon Spawn is our support club in the region. They can help out.”

“Sounds like we’re in for some good times.” Tall and dark, his skin lightly tanned, and his hair just brushing his shoulders, Zane stroked the goatee he had grown during his mysterious disappearance at the end of last summer. Although Cade wasn’t a fan of facial hair, Zane’s goatee had caused such a stir among the club’s women, Cade had almost considered growing one himself.