Sinner's Steel (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #3)(86)

“How do the old ladies do it?” she asked Connie. “If club business isn’t shared with old ladies, then they never know what’s going to happen when the brothers go out. Maybe they’re just going for a drink, or maybe it’s a shootout, or a suicidal raid on the Black Jack clubhouse. I couldn’t deal with that uncertainty. I’d be an emotional wreck. And what if someone came after me or Ty when we were alone? I’m not like Arianne. I couldn’t stab or shoot anyone.”

“Um … hello.” Connie waved a hand in front of Evie’s face. “You stabbed Vipe when he was…” She choked on her words. “Hurting Bill. And if you’d had a knife when you found out Jagger was the one who beat the shit out of Zane, I have no doubt you would have used it. You didn’t faint or collapse on the floor weeping like some kinda drama queen.”

Connie brushed back her hair. She’d worn a tank top and a cute pair of very short shorts to go hiking in the unseasonably warm weather and Tank hadn’t given her a second look. Evie wondered if he’d bowed out because of Sparky.

“I’ve never been the drama queen type.”

Connie laughed. “It sounds like you’re not worried anymore about the red patches on his cut.”

“I don’t think he does that part of it for kicks. At heart, he’s still the same Zane.”

“I don’t think any of them like that part.” Connie tugged at her top when Tank waved from the porch. “Far as I can tell, they’re pretty decent guys, except for Shaggy, Shooter, and a couple of the others who are certifiably wacko.”

Tank and Hacker emerged from the clubhouse holding a blond woman between them.

“Who’s that?” Connie gave her a nudge. “She looks spitting mad.”

“Get your f*cking paws off me,” the woman snarled as they drew near. “Your damn pathetic clubhouse is in the middle of f*cking nowhere. It’s not like I can run away.”

Evie sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s Doreen, the woman from the dungeon. They must be letting her go.”

Doreen’s hair was a disheveled mess of blond curls, and her long, angular face was pale and wan. Although taller than both Evie and Connie, her thin frame gave her an almost skeletal appearance save for her generous, perfectly-shaped breasts, which Evie doubted were real.

“I’d let her go, too with a mouth like that,” Connie said. “She puts the Sinners to shame, and since I’ve been hanging around with them, I have to say that’s no easy feat.”

They stood aside as Shooter drove up in a black Chrysler 300C. He left it running and raced around to open the passenger door for Doreen.

“What the f*ck is this?” Doreen sneered at Connie and Evie. “A good-bye party from the girl scouts?”

“I’m Evie. I talked to you downstairs.”

Doreen stared at her for a long moment, and then she tilted her head to the side. “You got red hair. And your name … Evie. Is that short for something?”

“Evangeline.”

Doreen’s eyes widened and the look she gave Evie was cold, calculating. “You’re the one Viper wants. No one could figure it out but now I get it. He wants a taste of the other side. Innocence. Soft and sweet. Tell me, little kitten, when he pets your widdle * do you purr?”

Evie recoiled, her nose wrinkling in disgust. Doreen laughed and moved toward Shooter, standing by the open door.

“Aren’t you the looker?” She leaned up, her breasts brushing against his chest. “Lucky me. Jagger sent the young blood to take me home. A couple of junior patch and you just gotta be a prospect. Even if it wasn’t written on your cut, I can smell the newness on you.”

Shooter narrowed his eyes. “Back off, bitch.”

Evie had never seen anyone move as fast, but before Shooter could push her away, Doreen yanked one of his weapons from its holster, spun, and held it to Evie’s head.

“Evie!” Connie took a step forward as Hacker and Tank drew their weapons. Doreen pushed Evie in front of her, using her as a shield.

“Don’t come any closer or I’ll off the little kitten right here, right now. Serves Jagger right for sending a buncha boys to do a man’s job.” She gestured to Connie and tipped her chin at the 300C. “Open the passenger door.”

“She has a little boy,” Connie said. “Why don’t you take me?”

“I got a little boy, too, and the Sinners threw me in the f*cking dungeon. Kids aren’t part of this.” Doreen ushered Evie into the vehicle, making her climb over the center console to the driver’s seat, seemingly oblivious to the guns trained on her back.

“You’re the one Viper wants,” she said, sliding into the passenger seat beside Evie. “And I’m gonna give you to him all wrapped up with a pretty little bow.”

*

Zane had always wanted to destroy a police car. However, the crunch of glass under his bat, although supremely satisfying, didn’t solve the bigger problem. T-Rex wasn’t free.

“What. The. Fuck?” He slammed the bat on the hood of Benson’s vehicle over and over again until Jagger pulled him away and walked him a few feet down the dirt road near the Black Jack clubhouse.

He was losing it. Big time. But a week of seeing Evie and not being able to touch her, brief conversations about Ty and nothing else, and the possibility of a future limited by the damn warrant over his head, which meant a civilian life with her wasn’t an option, had finally taken their toll. Deputy Benson was damn lucky it was only the car bearing the brunt of Zane’s frustration. After all, he’d just screwed up big-time.