Rough Justice (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #1)(104)

He didn’t return her greeting. “I gotta talk to you. It’s important.” He glanced around the bar, and then gestured to the stockroom. “You got a minute? Can we talk back there?”

“Sure.” Her pulse kicked up a notch as she led him into the stockroom. Was this a trap? An ambush? Had Jagger sent Wheels and his men to take her back? She felt the familiar weight of her .38 on her lower leg and her tension dissipated. Although not an easy draw, the gun was there if she needed it.

“What’s wrong?” She turned to face Wheels, carefully positioning herself with her back to the wooden shelving, and within steps of the door.

Wheels raked a hand through his blond hair, his face haggard with worry. “It’s Jagger. Viper’s got him. I know you’re leaving tonight, but I thought you should know.”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “Have the Sinners gone after him? Do they know where he is?”

“They know.” Wheels exhaled an irritated breath. “The executive board is getting the brothers together for a rescue mission, but they’re taking so damn long. They wanted to hold a meeting first to decide on a plan.”

“A meeting?” Her voice rose to a shriek. “Viper’s not going to keep Jagger around long enough for them to have a meeting. And that doesn’t sound like Zane. When it comes to Jagger, he acts quickly, decisively. Maybe I should call and tell them there’s no time to waste—”

She cut herself off, her head jerking to the side when she heard a sound behind the shelving near the door to the parking lot. But before she could investigate Wheels coughed, and she turned away.

“Phones are turned off during meetings,” he said. “But I’m sure they’ll get going soon. I just thought … maybe you’d want to know before you left. Not that you can do anything…”

Not that you can do anything?

There was a hell of a lot she could do: She could ride faster than any of the damn Sinners; she could shoot better than most of them, too; and she knew Viper. She could offer herself up if he let Jagger go.

But that meant she would miss her chance to escape. And the Sinners were probably already on the road.

She looked through the window of the stockroom door to where Dawn was serving drinks to a table of rowdy college kids in the corner. The same table where Jagger had watched her and almost stabbed a Devil Dog for pinching her ass. Even now she remembered the thrill of seeing him, the take-your-breath-away moment when he’d winked and she realized he wasn’t there by chance. He’d come to see her.

Banks was making the rounds, weaving his way among the tables as he greeted the regulars. When anyone gestured to his face, he just shrugged, seemingly unconcerned that he looked like he’d been in a car wreck.

Just for show.

Jagger had hurt Banks to protect her. Claimed her to keep her out of Viper’s clutches. Professed his love, then broken her heart to keep her safe. If she asked him to spare Jeff’s life, he would find a way.

Memories came back, all in a rush—Jagger’s warmth and gentle teasing, his protectiveness, his body so strong and hard and firm against her. And the indescribable feeling of being safe and cared for in his arms.

Mine.

Last night he’d bound her hands the way Leo once bound them, and then he had made love to her. Sweet, tender love, driving away every fear and every thought except how much she wanted him, needed him, loved him.

Mine. From the moment they met, he had been hers as much as she had been his, but it had taken her until now to understand. Just as it had taken her years to realize she was a biker. And the sooner she stopped denying who she was, the faster she would be able to save Jagger’s life.

“Do you know where he is?”

“I’ll get in a shitloud of trouble, but I can take you there.” Wheels’s eyes glittered and he licked his lips, smiling, a curious reaction given they were likely riding into a situation they might not survive, but one she put down to his lack of experience. Well, she wouldn’t put him at risk. She would send him back as soon as they reached their destination.

And then she would face Viper one last time.

*

“How was your meeting with the sheriff?” Jagger watched a heavily bandaged Gunner ease himself into a chair in the meeting room. Last f*cking place he wanted to be after hunting for Arianne all day. He’d posted T-Rex at Banks Bar in case she showed up and sent a few brothers to her apartment and Dawn’s place, but so far no one had called. Where the hell was she?

“Good. Gave him the money we got from trunking to smooth things over. Told him we’d get those weapons back or replacements in the next two weeks.”

Sparky laughed, gesturing to the bandages covering Gunner’s shoulder, chest, and arm. “Gunner played the suffering martyr so well, sayin’ he took the hits to protect the weapons, the sheriff forgot to be pissed off and offered to buy him lunch.”

Jagger couldn’t even force a smile. He had a Mexican cartel riding his ass for the weapons they’d been promised and the reputation of the club was at stake. “We need to get our weapons back. Word on the street is that Axle sold them to the Jacks, which makes two loads of weapons they’ve taken from us. Anyone got a line on a fresh supply to keep our buyers happy?”

“I called in favors two states over but no one has weapons to spare.” Zane leaned back in his chair. “The Koreans aren’t getting a shipment in for at least four more weeks so they can’t help us out.”