Rough Justice (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #1)(96)

And then he was gone.

*

Leaves crunched beneath Jagger’s feet as he pounded his way through the forest. Max ran by his side, unusually quiet, as if he could sense Jagger’s torment.

His sweat-soaked shirt clung to him and his thighs burned in protest, but he couldn’t stop, couldn’t go back, couldn’t think about Arianne’s face when she walked into the room and saw Banks tied to the chair.

Shock. Devastation. Betrayal.

Nothing had ever cut him so bad, except making the decision to push her away in the first place. He’d never be able to tell her he’d done it to protect her. That it was partly a charade.

He stumbled. Caught himself. Pushed on. She should be gone by now. Someplace safe. Away from him. Away from Viper, Jeff, and everyone who meant her harm. She would find the happiness she had been looking for. She would be free.

Max stopped suddenly and barked. Relieved to have an excuse to stop punishing himself, Jagger slowed to a walk and greeted Zane, who waited for him near the low stone wall surrounding the property.

“Hey.” One word. A host of questions. But mostly Zane wanted to make sure he was okay.

He didn’t answer. No, he was far from okay, but he couldn’t admit that weakness, even to his best friend. Instead, he paced along the wall toward the house, cooling down, wondering if self-loathing could kill, determined not to talk about the real reason Zane was here. “What’s up?”

“Sherry wants to come back. She’s hounding everyone.”

Max bounded over to them and Jagger picked up a stick and threw it far into the trees. “I don’t kick people out so I can bring them back. She made her choice. She chose poorly. I can’t undo her mistake.”

“If you say so. But she came clean about helping Axle steal the guns, and I believe her when she says he forced her to do it.”

Jagger bristled at the implicit admonishment. “Anything else?”

“Gunner thinks the same person who tipped off the Jacks at the ice house also tipped off the Jacks about our party at Riders. He’s gonna recommend an information lockdown regarding future missions and gatherings until we flush the bastard out.”

“Christ. Everything’s falling apart. How did a rat get into the club? We f*cking screen them to death.”

Zane lifted a shoulder. “Could be someone turned, like Axle did. He’s gone underground, by the way. No one can find him. I’ve doubled the reward and made it clear we’ll take him alive or dead. If I was him, I’d get out of the state as fast as possible.”

“I hope he leaves our f*cking guns behind.”

“Lotta guns floating around,” Zane said. “T-Rex ID’d Jeff as the leader of the protection-run ambush, which means Viper has Sheriff Morton’s guns, too.”

Jagger slapped at a tree branch in his path. “We’ll have to offer Morton the money we picked up from trunking a few weeks ago, smooth his ruffled feathers. Christ. If we can’t get at least one stash back, we’ll have a hard time getting new contracts.”

“Viper must be suffering from the loss of the ice house if he’s trying to take over our arms trade.” Zane swatted at a branch overhead. “You know what the dealers are like when they don’t get their stuff.”

“Small consolation.” Jagger kicked at the leaves as they passed a broken fountain, two cupids entwined, their bows broken, bodies covered in moss. “What about Banks? Did you offer him a place as a prospect?”

“He told me to shove my head up my ass.”

Any other time he would have chuckled. Instead, he scraped a hand through his hair and sighed. “I’m not giving up. I want him in the club. He said he was Special Forces, and Sparky told me he had six of our boys groaning on the floor of his apartment in under five minutes. I think he let them take him, just so he could check up on Arianne. He’s not a man who goes anywhere he doesn’t want to go.”

“So how are you going to change his mind?” Zane whistled and Max bounded over to them. Jagger bent to ruffle Max’s fur before continuing down the path.

“I told Cade to call in a coupla marks and send a construction crew over to his bar to fix it up. And I’m sending Doc Hegel over to check him out after he’s finished with the six Banks beat up.”

“He’s a f*cking fighting machine,” Zane said, his voice laced with admiration.

“And I want him.” Jagger rubbed his brow. Banks wasn’t going to come to them easy, especially after what he’d done, but with the truce broken, he needed good men and Banks had skills beyond those of the average biker. “I’m going to lean on him until he caves,” he said, with a confidence he didn’t feel in the least. “Man like that would be an incredible asset for the club. He knew what was going down with Arianne the first time I hit him. He knew it was all for show. He played the game because in the end, we both wanted the same thing.”

They paused at the steps to the clubhouse and Zane twisted his lips to the side. “You ever wonder what a guy from Special Forces is doing running a bar in Conundrum?”

“Already checked him out. The car, bar, and his apartment are all in the name of Joe Banks, but except for those three records, Joe Banks doesn’t exist. He has no history, pays no taxes, and has no bank accounts.”

“And soon he’ll have no bartender.”