Rough Justice (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #1)(26)

And then he was gone.

Arianne blinked, trying to clear her vision as people scattered—Was that … Jagger with his hand around Leo’s neck? Pounding Leo’s head on the counter?

“Fucking cowardly piece of shit, beating on a woman.” Jagger’s deep growl reverberated through her body. “Let’s see how you like it.”

Wham. Wham. Wham.

“Coupla Jacks on their way over.” The heavily muscled blond biker helped Arianne up, then gestured toward the door. “They seem to be takin’ offense to the way you’re treating Leo.”

Arianne wasn’t surprised they knew who Leo was. The top brass of all the clubs knew each other, if not by sight, then at least by name.

Jagger scowled. “Clear the bar, Cade. I’m not done yet, and the civilians will go crazy when they see blood.” With one hand still around Leo’s neck, he wrenched a .45 from the holster under his cut, then waved over a tall biker with thick chestnut hair and eyes a deep, almost azure blue. Arianne recognized him from the meeting, too. Did the Sinners have a good-looks requirement for patching in new members?

“Sparky, go help Cade get the customers outta here. Pay off the manager for the rest of the evening. Me ‘n’ Leo need a little alone time.” Jagger thumped Leo’s head on the counter again and then jerked him to standing.

“Heads up.” Cade shouted from beside the window. “It’s a f*cking ambush. Jacks comin’ in from the front. I count at least ten bikes. They got a support club with ’em too.”

The front door slammed open. People screamed. Pulse racing, Arianne edged toward the till as the bar erupted into chaos around them.

Banks and the mouth-watering Sparky wove their way through the tables, yanking people from their seats and herding them out the side door to the beat of Jay-Z’s “On the Run.” Shouts and the tinkle of broken glass peppered the air. Sinners and Devil Dogs launched themselves at the Jacks who had come in the front door, heedless of the customers racing for the exit. Dawn shot her a worried glance, then held up her keys and mouthed “outside” before Banks hustled her through a fire exit.

Arianne reached for the drawer beneath the till, and Jagger froze her with a glare. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I’m not with them. I left the Jacks a long time ago.” She held up her hands so he could see she wasn’t armed, and he nodded, his free hand still pinning Leo, cheek to the bar.

“So … did you wind up here by chance, or because I invited you?” Heart hammering in her chest, Arianne contemplated her escape route as she tried to keep Jagger distracted. Her safest bet was the stockroom exit to the parking lot, but with a biker brawl on the premises and Jacks no doubt on patrol outside, she couldn’t risk going unarmed. She still had the gun she’d strapped to her leg, but it wasn’t so easy to retrieve in a pinch. The gun under the till was her best option. But if she had to pull the gun on Jagger, was she prepared to use it?

“Man rescues a woman, usually expects a little gratitude before being interrogated. But since I’m in a good mood, I’ll let it slide. You owe me a drink, sweetheart.” He casually banged Leo’s head again, and Leo slumped forward on the counter.

“A drink?” She waved her hand vaguely around the bar, where the Jacks and Sinners were now engaged in a full-out brawl. “Didn’t you notice there’s a fight going on? Or that there is a very dangerous man attached to your hand?”

And then, because Leo was semiconscious and no one was within hearing distance, she leaned forward and said what she’d wanted to say when the Devil Dog had pawed her ass. “I had the situation under control. Am I supposed to be grateful you caused a scene, terrified the customers, and started a wholesale destruction of the bar?”

Jagger’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, sweetheart. You had it under control. I picked that up when he sent you flying into the cabinet.” He reached out with his free hand and ran his finger lightly over her cheek, his touch lingering on her skin. “You’re hurt.”

Coming from a man who had almost just cracked open Leo’s head, Jagger’s concern unnerved her, as did his sudden switch from fierce to kind. Pulse racing, she dropped her hand back to the till. “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you here?”

“Had a meeting. Needed neutral ground. Couldn’t get your pretty face outta my head, and since you invited me, I brought everyone here.” He glanced down at Leo, who was moaning on the counter and a muscle twitched in his jaw. “You with him?”

“Will he live if I say no?” Arianne’s fingers curled around the bottom drawer, and she tugged on it ever so slowly.

Jagger’s eyes glittered fever bright. “You want him to live?”

Did she want Leo to live? She’d wanted him to die since the night he’d tried to rape her. She’d dreamt of his death every time he looked at her or touched her since. Sometimes she even fantasized about pulling the trigger. But she had no doubt if she said yes, Jagger would kill him, and she couldn’t live with his death on her conscience.

The lie dropped from her tongue. “Yes.”

“Then he’ll live.”

She couldn’t help but smile, not just because he was being perversely sweet, but because her fingers had finally touched cold steel. “Thank you.”