Rough Justice (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #1)(51)
“Wheels, we need some tunes for this happy occasion.” Jagger forced a smile. “Not every day we meet up with a long-lost ex brother.” He took a beer from Wheels’ outstretched hand, and motioned to the speakers in the corners. “Find the sound system. Put on something fitting.”
Ever the obedient prospect, Wheels headed for the back while Tank and Gunner took up guard positions near the doors. Zane joined Jagger at the table, a smirk on his face. He loved interrogations. Maybe too much.
“Heard you’d issued a vendetta against me.” Jagger took a long sip from his bottle then reached behind his hip and pulled his knife from its sheath. “And against Vexy.” He toyed with the knife, holding it up as if inspecting the blade under the light.
“Don’t know anything about a vendetta.” Axle’s voice rose in pitch as he stared at the knife. “Never made any threats against you or that little Black Jack wh—”
Jagger slammed his knife through Axle’s hand, pinning it to the table just as George Thorogood’s “Bad to the Bone,” blasted through the speakers. He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, waiting for Axle’s screams to die down.
“Also heard you were looking to patch in to a new club.”
Axle gritted his teeth, his entire focus on the knife in his hand. He would be desperate to remove it, but he knew if he touched it before Jagger gave him permission, the consequences would be severe. “You kicked me out, so there’s no reason I can’t patch in to a new club.” He grimaced and looked up. “Who’s been talking about me?”
One thing about Axle, he’d never lacked balls. Not many men would be throwing questions back at him, but Jagger, now secure in his claim over Arianne, was in a mellow mood.
“Weasel. True to his name.”
“Fucking bastard.” Axle balled his free hand into a fist. “I don’t know why he would f*cking lie, but since he’s a disloyal, dishonorable, lying scumbag, I’m not surprised. If you want to have a talk with him, he’s staying with his mom. Blue house on Fir Street.”
“Not interested in Weasel right now.” Jagger took another swig of his beer. “I’m interested in you and only you.”
Axle shuddered. Clearly, he knew what was coming. He’d been with the Sinners before Jagger had joined the club. And he’d seen just how ruthless Jagger could be.
“Look, Jag. You know Weasel. Never said an honest word since the day he was born. I was always about the club. What happened at that meeting, I was doing it for the club.”
“You were doing it for yourself.” Jagger placed his index finger on top of the knife, and Axle stilled.
“No man.” He whined. “I’m still about the club. I got a good thing going now. Cock fighting. Easy money. I’ll let the club in on it, just to prove it to you. The brothers are still my brothers.”
Jagger briefly rocked the knife, and Axle shrieked. Sweat trickled down his temples, and his complexion turned three different shades of green.
“Club’s got enough money.” Jagger flicked the knife again. “But what we don’t have is information. For example, I’m interested to know why you’re having a drink with the Blade only three blocks from Sparky’s shop.”
Axle’s voice dropped to a pathetic whimper. “Just a casual acquaintance. Bumped into him when I stopped in for a drink.”
“Really?” Cade appeared at Jagger’s side and tossed a cell phone on the table, then leaned down to wipe away a drop of fresh blood from the screen. “The Blade offered to give us his phone. He’s got something on there that makes me think Axle’s not telling us the truth.”
Now standing behind Axle, Zane leaned over and stared at the screen. “Well, isn’t this a coincidence? The Blade knows Vexy. Even has a picture of her working at Banks’s Bar.” He wrapped his arm in a stranglehold around Axle’s neck. “How did the Blade know where she worked?”
“Don’t know.” Axle’s eyes bulged as he struggled for breath.
“You knew she worked there.” Zane tightened his grip. “You were coming for her the night the Jacks were there.”
Axle clawed at Zane’s arm with his free hand. “Yeah, I knew she worked there.”
“So maybe you set the Blade on her? Told him to go check her out, maybe make your job easier when you got to the bar.”
“No.” Axle’s rasped, his face turning purple.
Jagger took the phone from Cade and stared at the picture of Arianne. She was smiling at someone, clearly unaware of the threat only a few feet away. His stomach lurched and it was all he could do not to pull out the knife and drive it into Axle’s heart.
But that would be too easy.
“Axle’s looking a little pale, Zane. Let him go. I’m thinking he needs some air.” Jagger yanked his knife from Axle’s hand. Axle wheezed in a breath and slumped in his chair.
“Up and at ’em, cowboy.” Cade tugged on Axle’s shirt to help him up and then gawked in mock disbelief. “Uh-oh. Someone forgot to remove his Sinner’s Tribe tattoo.”
Jagger fixed Axle with a frigid stare. Kick-outs had seven days to remove their tattoos and hand in anything bearing the Sinner’s Tribe mark. Although he had intended simply to teach Axle a lesson about making threats against club members, his flagrant breach of the rules of his banishment was a much more serious matter.