Rough Justice (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #1)(50)

His eyes hardened when he saw her dressed. Without a word, he tugged on his jeans and reached for his shirt.

“Jagger? What’s wrong?”

He looked back over his shoulder and yanked on his shirt, heedless of the laceration on his chest. “You’re mine,” he said simply.

“Okay.”

“Not okay.” Jagger whirled to face her, then closed the distance between them in two long strides. “You don’t get it.”

The skin on the back of her neck prickled in warning, but she pushed on. “Then explain it to me.”

He twined her hair in his hand and tugged her head back, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You aren’t leaving Conundrum. I claimed you.”

A chill shot down Arianne’s spine. “I thought you claimed me to help me get away from Viper and for all the political reasons that go with it. Not for real. Not for—”

“Yes, for real.” He cut her off so abruptly, she startled.

“I claimed you as a biker and now I claimed you as a man. You are mine, Arianne. No one will f*ck you but me. No one will touch you but me. I’ll kill any man who hurts you and hurt anyone who makes you cry. If you need something, I’ll get it for you. If you’re sad, I’ll make you happy. If you want to go out, you ask. Every night you will sleep in my bed. And you will not leave Conundrum.”

Shocked, speechless, she could only stare. “Seriously?” Her hand flew to her chest. “Do you seriously think I belong to you because we had sex? Or that you can stop me from leaving if that’s what I want to do?”

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” she said, her heart stuttering in her chest. “Not with me. I fought too hard for too long to wind up in the exact same situation I was trying to escape.”

Gravel crunched outside, and Jagger released Arianne, spinning to hide her as she zipped up her coveralls. She had just smoothed down her hair when the door opened and Sparky stepped inside.

“We’ve got a lead on Axle. He knows she’s here and he’s in the neighborhood, likely at one of the local bars.”

Jagger waved him back. “Gimme five.”

“What’s out there for you?” Jagger pulled on his cut after the door closed. “Aside from just getting away from Viper, what is it you’re looking for?”

“Happiness is out there.” She tried to keep her voice even despite the ache in her throat. “Normal is out there. I’ll have a normal life, where every day I get to decide how to live. No one will get shot or threaten to kill me. No one will hold a knife to my throat or claim me as a blood price. I’ll feel safe when I go to bed and safe when I walk out the door. I’ll be a person and not a piece of property. I’ll have a house and a husband and kids and a dog and a nine-to-five job and—”

“You gonna trade the Ninja in for a minivan?” He gave her an incredulous look. “Drive the speed limit down the highway? You gonna tone down the attitude that makes a man so hard, he can’t think straight?”

“Some things will stay the same.”

“Is that really what you want?” He softened his tone. “You’re not normal, and you never will be. You were born into this world. You adapted, survived. The skills you have, you don’t need out there. But the skills you need out there, you don’t have.”

“There won’t be any bikers around. That’s all I need to be happy.”

“Happiness is in here.” He tapped her chest just above her heart. “Not out there.”

Arianne brushed his hand away. “There’s nothing left in there. Everyone I loved is gone, and everyone I trusted betrayed me. And now Jeff…” Her throat constricted, cutting off her words. “But I’ll find it again once I leave Conundrum. I know I will, and I won’t let anyone stop me—not Viper, not Leo … not you. I don’t give up when I want something. Even at the worst of times, I never gave up. “

“Neither do I.”

“Jagger—”

“Later.” And then he turned and walked away.

*

The Sinners found Axle at a bar only a few blocks away, and sharing a table with Mac “the Blade” Lombardo, one of Montana’s most infamous hit men. While Cade and Sparky took the Blade outside for a “chat” and Zane cleared out the civilians, Jagger settled himself at Axle’s table and sent Wheels to scrounge up a couple of drinks.

He said nothing while the bar was being locked down, the owner paid off, and the lights dimmed, enjoying Axle’s increasing discomfort and the fear only silence could bring. Instead, he checked out the pictures on the walls: Harleys mostly, and women, and women on Harleys, so scantily clad, his mind wandered to the little Black Jack he’d left behind in Sparky’s shop.

Arianne. On his bike. Naked. Now that was something to lighten his dark mood.

The bar was small—fifteen worn wooden tables—and narrow, smelling of yeast and stale beer. Just enough room for Cade and Sparky to walk on either side of the Blade as they dragged him to the back door. The bar counter was scratched and the walls covered in Giants’ pennants. But that’s what happened when you lived in a state with no professional sports teams.

By the time Wheels returned with the drinks, the civilians were gone, and sweat beaded on Axle’s brow. Axle reached up to take the beer from Wheels, and his trembling hand made Jagger smile. He could see Axle’s fear, smell Axle’s guilt, and by the time the night was over, his knife would taste Axle’s blood. But first, a little fun.