Beyond the Cut (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #2)(7)
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.