Beyond the Cut (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #2)(38)

Still, she couldn’t shake the niggle of doubt Shelly-Ann had planted in her mind. Cade was a violent man. Just like Jimmy. And what if that violence spilled over to her?





NINE

I will follow the creed before I follow my heart.

SINNER’S TRIBE CREED

The Whitefish trip wasn’t going as planned.

Although Cade had initially been glad to take off with Zane and the prospect right after the altercation with Shelly-Ann, he couldn’t get Dawn’s shocked expression out of his mind. Not during the spectacular three-hour drive through the mountains. Not when their new prospect had to keep pulling the cage off the road because every damn cop seemed to be on the lookout for black SUVs. And especially not when they arrived at the house of the Brethren’s weapons broker and found him dead.

“Well, damn.”

From the state of the poor bastard’s body, and the pungent smell of rotting flesh, the broker had been dead for a while, and from the fact his body was untouched, no one really cared.

“His guards are out here,” the prospect called. “They’re dead, too. Looks like there was a gunfight.”

“Weapons are missing from the shed,” Zane called out. “I’ll text Jagger and let him know. My guess is they were taken weeks ago.”

Could this day get any worse? Dawn had acted almost as if she were afraid of him outside Shelly-Ann’s house, and yet he’d exercised almost unbelievable restraint when he’d let Shelly-Ann off with only a warning. And what did she expect? That he’d slap Rusty on the wrist and tell him not to do it again? Dawn had been part of this world. She knew how it operated. She knew he might have had to take a life. Or eight. But only to protect his brothers. And now they were short the weapons they needed to launch an offensive against the Jacks.

Cade did a walk around the small, isolated, villa-style house that had served as the broker’s base. But other than the four dead guards, and two whining pups, he saw nothing that would give a clue as to who might have stolen the weapons.

He fed the dogs and filled their water bowls, then went in search of the prospect. Damn, he couldn’t remember the dude’s name. Of all the prospects they’d had over the years, the quiet, geeky, pretty boy with blazing green eyes and sharp features had to be the least likely prospect ever to want to be patched into the club. But he was a tech genius, and could fill a gap in the club’s knowledge base that was getting larger by the day.

He found the prospect throwing up in the bathroom with Zane looking on in disgust.

“Why the hell did you bring him?”

“Prospects need to learn,” Cade said. “Plus there was no way I was driving the damn cage and I knew you wouldn’t volunteer.” Brothers rarely drove in vehicles when they could ride their bikes, leaving the cage driving to old ladies, prospects, and junior patch.

“That prospect can’t learn dick.” Zane turned and Cade followed him from the bathroom to the small patio out back.

“What did Jagger say?”

“He wants us to go see Demon Spawn. Hard to believe five men were shot on their turf and they didn’t know anything about it.”

While Zane checked the rest of the house, Cade went to get the prospect, now pale and pasty after losing his lunch. “Ready to go?”

“We should take his tech.” The prospect pointed to a computer as they walked through the house. “Might be a clue in his computer or phone about who took him and his men out.”

“Take what you need,” Cade said. “And then put the dogs in the truck. We’ll drop them at the shelter.”

“Christ. They’re just dogs.” Zane gave an exasperated sigh. “They got the sense to run away.”

“They’re pups and they didn’t have the sense to run away from a house full of dead bodies.” Cade whistled for the dogs. “And why not help them find a home instead of letting them run loose on the streets?”

He had a soft spot for strays. Selma, the golden Lab, who had been his comfort and constant companion since he was four years old, had wandered into his yard one evening and never left. He had been shocked his dad allowed the dog to stay, but Selma was smart enough to understand his father’s insecurities. Loyalty was the way to win his affection. Whenever Cade’s father was home, Selma never left his side, but Cade always knew he had her heart.

After dropping off the pups, they arranged to meet up with Matchstick, president of Demon Spawn, and some of the club members at a bar in town. Demon Spawn had been forced into their role as a Sinner support club, which meant all meetings had to be public in case resentment got out of hand.

By the time they reached the bar, Cade was ready for some serious distraction. Smelling of JD and tobacco and made up to look like an old western saloon with some scratchy Bob Seger on the jukebox, the bar was the perfect place to relax. Matchstick, a Zane look-alike with dark skin, dark hair, and brooding looks, brought two sweet butts and a pitcher of beer to their booth, and Cade settled down for what promised to be a much better evening than he’d expected.

A blonde with short, curly hair immediately slid onto his lap. The other girl, a petite brunette, took the seat next to Zane. Usually Zane sent the girls away, but they were gifts from the host MC and asking them to leave was the ultimate in disrespect.

“Don’t know much about that broker,” Matchstick said after they’d dispensed with the pleasantries and turned to business. “He usually kept to himself.”