Chaos Bound (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #4)(85)
Shaggy stared at Naiya’s ring a second longer and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m gonna check out Sandy Lake. That’s where I’d go if I was hunting Viper ‘cause that’s where Viper will be when the rally is on, and that’s where he’ll be the most vulnerable.”
“Sounds good. I’ll ride local.” Tank gave Naiya a comforting squeeze. “That way I can be nearby to keep an eye on Naiya.”
Shaggy grabbed Naiya’s bag and hustled out the back door. Naiya looked up at Tank who had turned his attention to the local news on the television above the bar. “Why are you doing this when Holt hasn’t really come back to the club? He’s not even wearing his cut.”
“Until he hands that cut to Jagger, he’ll always be a Sinner.” Tank had been carrying T-Rex’s cut with him since last night. It might be a long and rocky road, but T-Rex would find his way back, and when he did, Tank would be the one to put that cut on his shoulders.
“We have to find him,” Naiya begged. “I don’t know what I would do if Holt wound up in jail. I don’t know what he would do. He still has nightmares about being in the dungeon. And he killed Leo to protect me. I couldn’t live with myself.”
Warmth spread through Tank’s chest, as Naiya’s words made her feelings clear. She cared about T-Rex as much as he cared about her, and after what T-Rex had been through, he deserved a little happiness.
“You stay here,” Tank said. “I can’t go looking for him if you’re on the streets unprotected. I’ll check in every half hour, but you’re safe at Rider’s. Don’t worry. I’ll find T-Rex. I’ll bring him home.”
TWENTY-THREE
“What the f*ck am I doing?”
Holt lay on the roof of the five-story office building across the street from the Bestway Hotel in Sandy Lake and angled his rifle. Preparations for the weekend rally had already begun. Banners hung from windows, streets had been cordoned off, and the local shops were stuffed with rally souvenirs. In less than forty-eight hours, bikers would descend on the small town and the nearby campground, turning the place into one big party.
Without his cut to identify him as a biker, and falling back on the charm he’d once used to inveigle women into his bed, it hadn’t taken Holt long to find out where Viper was going to be staying during the rally. Although the hotel desk clerk, a former house mama in a Sinner support club, had been willing to give him more than information, he’d felt guilty even kissing her cheek. There was only one girl he wanted. And he couldn’t have her.
“Fuck.” His loud curse echoed over the rooftop, fading into the evening sky. He flattened himself on the warm asphalt, and peered across the street, as he tried not to choke on the thick scent of tar.
From this position, he had a clear line of sight into both Viper’s room and the front door to the hotel. He had two sniper rifles set up beside him—an M24 weapons system chambered for a NATO short-action cartridge, and an SR-25 with a rotating bolt and direct impingement gas system—thanks to the raid on the Devil’s Brethren cache.
His groin tightened when he remembered holding Naiya that afternoon, how badly he wanted her—so much that fear had driven him away. He’d almost lost her then, but the feeling of despair was nothing compared to what he felt now.
How did they reconcile two different lives? Holt had always been part of a brotherhood—first with the street gang and then with the Sinners—and the time he’d spent between, alone with his thoughts day after day, had been nothing less than hell. He liked being around people. He liked being part of a tribe. The Sinner’s Tribe.
“At least, I did,” he muttered.
Now, he wasn’t so sure. He’d felt uneasy around his brothers, uncomfortable in his skin. From the moment he stepped into the clubhouse, he wanted to be alone. No, not alone. With Naiya. She was the only person who knew the new Holt, the man who had survived, transformed into a harder, stronger, ruthless, more determined version of himself. A man who needed a strong woman by his side. A man worthy of a beautiful, intelligent, confident woman who had suffered and survived, too.
Because of Viper.
He leaned up, practiced tracking a man on the street with the rifle. Back on track. Focus on the goal. The one thing that had kept him alive in the dungeon—his reason for being now that he’d left Naiya behind. What the f*ck had he been thinking?
His breath caught when he heard the scrape of a door. Rolling to his back, he pulled his Smith & Wesson Model 500 revolver from its holster. The large caliber handgun packed a punch, although it was damn loud and would draw the wrong kind of attention. No time to dissemble the weapons. Whoever had intruded on his surveillance was about to get an unpleasant surprise.
But the surprise was on him when Shaggy stepped out onto the roof.
“Christ. I almost shot you.” Holt lowered his weapon, took a deep breath to slow his racing heart. “How did you find me?”
“Wasn’t hard.” Shaggy closed the door behind him, leaned against wall. “Lookin’ the way you look, wasn’t hard to find a coupla girls who noticed you wandering around. Viper’s an arrogant ass. He’s not gonna be slumming it, so we put our people in the big hotels. We got the intel last week that he’s staying across the way. Figured it wouldn’t take you long to figure that out.”