Rough Justice (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #1)(98)
“If my dad and brother threatened to kill me, I’d probably run, too.” His hands jerked the steering wheel and he muttered a curse. “I mean, if I had a brother.” He cast her a sidelong glance and then looked back at the road. Arianne tilted her head to the side, trying to reconcile the odd tremor in his tone and his even stranger reaction, with what she had first taken to be an innocuous statement.
“Viper never threatened to kill me.”
“But he put that picture in Gunner’s cut,” Wheels said. “Jagger took it as a death threat. He went crazy. You saw the result.”
Indeed she had, and she would never forget the sight of Banks tied to that chair. But as for Viper … She scoffed. “That was Jeff. Viper doesn’t threaten. He doesn’t do furtive. And he doesn’t know his way around a dark room. He’d see an action like that as cowardly. If he wants someone dead, he kills them. No messing around. That’s why the members of his club follow the rules. If they screw up, there is no warning. There one day. Dead the next.”
Wheels stared at her with a scrutiny that was unsettling, particularly because his eyes were supposed to be on the road. “Do you wonder if maybe Jagger released his blood claim because he wanted you to leave? So you could go somewhere safe?”
“Maybe you should watch where you’re going.” She pointed to the windshield, even as she shook her head. Jagger was protecting the honor of the club, not her. Love wasn’t part of the “club first” equation.
When they reached her apartment building, Wheels pulled over to the side of the road and turned off the engine. “What are you going to do now that you’re free?”
Free. She’d dreamed of being free, but not like this. “I’m leaving town before Viper hears Jagger released me from his claim. If I don’t, I’ll never get away. I’m almost at the point where I’ve exhausted all my escape options. This tiny window, where he thinks I’m with the Sinners, is pretty much my last hope.”
“So you’re leaving the biker life?”
Arianne gave him a half-hearted smile. “I’m going to be normal … happy.” But for the first time since she’d made up the little speech that had seen her through the worst of times, she didn’t feel any conviction behind her words.
Wheels clicked his fingernails against the steering wheel and shifted in his seat. Puzzled, and no small bit apprehensive, Arianne pushed open the door.
“Wait.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “It’s just … I like you.”
“I like you, too, Wheels.” She forced a smile and stepped out of the vehicle.
“Maybe you should leave tonight,” he said. “You know … just in case Viper finds out.”
She breathed out a relieved sigh. Ah. He wasn’t crazy after all, just a nice guy looking out for her. “I need to get stuff ready and say good-bye. I’m going to be leaving forever, and forever is a very long time.”
*
Two days after Banks’s beating, the Sinners held a party. Partially in honor of all the brothers who had been injured recently, and the brother they had lost, but mostly to keep up their spirits, because the war with the Jacks had just begun.
By the time Jagger arrived at Riders, Cade had taken over the DJ booth by the window and was spinning his favorite blend of heavy metal and thrash, interspersed with the odd Irish jig. The vines and palm trees from Dawn’s party had been cleared away, the bullet holes filled, glass repaired, and the bar was back to looking as a biker bar should: rough and gritty, with worn tables, wooden floors, and metal band posters plastered over the walls. The sweet butts laughed it up with the brothers, and old ladies helped the staff serving snacks and pouring beer. Gunner stood at the corner of the room, arms folded, trying to keep order with the fierceness of his scowl.
Jagger nodded a few greetings and then threw himself on the couch at the back of the bar. He was here for appearances and nothing else.
“Hey, baby. You’re not lookin’ the way a man should look at a party.” Sherry joined him on the couch, tugging the bottom of her skin-tight black dress over her ass. The damn dress was cut so low, the only part of her tits not showing were her nipples. But then, Sherry had nice tits and she liked showing them off. Tonight, however, he didn’t take up the invitation when she leaned across his body, ostensibly to brush something off his shoulder.
Instead, he turned away. “You’re back on probation on the recommendation of the executive board,” he said abruptly. “And not just because you’ve been feeding us info on Axle’s whereabouts, or because we found out you acted under duress and no small amount of abuse. If it were up to me alone, you’d still be gone, especially after you helped him steal our weapons.”
“You looked like you needed some cheering up,” she said softly. “And I know where you sit on me coming back. I also know you could have vetoed the vote, so thank you for not doing that. Axle was a mistake. I was messed up after you broke it off, and he was there for me. He told me he loved me, and I believed him. But after you kicked him out, and he started making all sorts of demands for information about the club, and forcing me to do things I didn’t want to do, I realized he never really loved me at all. He was using me to get to you. You’re a wanted man, Jagger. In more ways than one.”
She settled by his side and leaned her head on his shoulder. His nose wrinkled at the sharp scent of her cloying perfume, but he put an arm around her for the simple comfort of her familiarity and the fact she didn’t want anything from him, at least for the moment. They always wanted something. The sweet butts and hood rats wanted in his bed. Sherry had wanted to wear his patch. The brothers jostled for position or favor. Even Max would nudge his leg or nip his hand when he wanted to play or go for a walk. Everyone needed a piece of him.