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Sinners MC: A Motorcycle Club Anthology

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by Evan Grace


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  Born to Hide

  By Ginger Ring

  Chapter One

  Saige

  A lightning flash caused her to flinch, the clap of thunder caused her to jump, and the slippery white paint stripe on the side of the road caused her to stumble, twisting her ankle. As Saige Hemmingway cursed and glanced up at the sky, a large raindrop fell into her eye. Her whole life lately had become one big miserable cause and effect.

  Pulling her hood tighter around her head, she shivered and hurried to the light glowing from just over the hill. Even though she’d grown up in Lake Genoa, Saige wasn’t all that familiar with this area outside the town. Her father would have a heart attack if he knew his once promising daughter was slumming it on the other side of the tracks. Her rental car sat out of commission by the side of the road.

  Both her parents would be fit to be tied if they knew she was even here, but then that boat had sailed a long time ago. Just coming over the knoll, her saving grace finally came into view, and her heart dropped. It was a bar. Not only that, but from the looks of several run-down vehicles outside, a dive bar at that. What did she expect? It wasn’t like she was near the fine historic mansions that graced Genoa’s lake shore.

  The wind picked up, and Saige could hear the rain approaching fast. There wasn’t much choice; the tavern was the only option right now. Her ankle throbbed and her foot hurt as she hurried to the metal building with the flashing beer sign. As she slipped inside quickly, a gust of wind slammed the door behind her.

  A shiver ran through her as she pulled her hood back and witnessed everyone in the room stop what they were doing and stare back. The jukebox played country western in the background, but other than that, no one said a word. Her eyes darted around the room. Except for the bartender, who seemed busy on her phone, there were only men in the joint.

  As she weaved her way between tables, a burly guy in a leather vest blocked her way. Saige swallowed and shoved her hands in the pockets of her coat.

  “Well, look what just walked in the door.” He appeared to be drunk, and the smell of beer on his breath verified that fact. “I was just saying we needed some female company for the night.” The tall man laughed and nudged the other fellows at the table, both enjoying her discomfort. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  The name she’d been born with was on the tip of her tongue, but for some reason Saige couldn’t find her voice.

  “Are you ignoring me, girl?” Leaning over, his face now so close, she could feel the heat from his skin.

  “No, sir, I had some car trouble, walked a mile in the rain, and came in to get out of the storm.” But now the thought of going back outside actually held some appeal. Maybe there was a better place down the road.

  The man took a step closer, invading her space. “I asked for your name, sweetheart.”

  She managed to choke out, “Sa-Saige.”

  “Well, aren’t you fancy. Sa-Saige.” A few other guys snickered and stood up. The trauma that had caused her to flee had just been reignited, but so was a new emotion. Anger. She was done being a doormat and having everyone push her around. Saige was tired of putting up with things she shouldn’t have for way too long, but she was outnumbered here.

  “Look.” Holding her hands up, she tried to get her point across, but the guy took another step. “I don’t want any trouble. I just came in to call for help and dry off.” Retreating, her back met the wall.

  “No one’s going to hear you call for help, and I don’t mind you being we―” A large hand settled on the man’s shoulder, and his flushed face turned white.

  “You don’t mind what?” The voice that obviously went with the hand was low, sexy, and sent a shiver down her back. How she wished she had a glass of liquid courage right now. Saige felt like she’d walked into the twilight zone. She gulped, on the verge of tears.

  “Never mind.” With a huff, the drunk turned and took a seat at his table. If only the man with the deep sexy voice would follow him. It’d been a long day, and all Saige wanted was a hot shower, a warm bed, and to be left alone, but with her car abandoned down the road with a flat tire, she wasn’t going anywhere soon.

  As she rushed to the bar, her ankle hurt like a beast. “Do you have the number for a cab? I had car trouble and need a ride to town.” Leaning across the counter, she tried to get the attention of the barkeeper.

  “I can give you a ride,” that same voice that came to her rescue said beside her.

  Good grief! Could these guys just leave her alone? Taking a deep breath, Saige turned to face him. “Thanks for the offer but―” The words stuck in her throat as she turned his way. Standing beside her wasn’t some drunk guy hoping to pick up a chick for a night. No, it was a good bet that all this guy had to do was snap his fingers and ladies fell at his feet. He smiled, and she was no longer cold. The blue of his eyes reminded her of the Mediterranean Sea, a bright aqua blue. His face was tan from the sun, and a day or two’s worth of stubble graced his strong jaw. He had a noble nose and full lips. The man had to be at least 6’3” as he was a good head taller than her. His shoulder-length, dark hair practically begged a woman’s fingers to thread her fingers through it. The guy before her was either a living, breathing sculpture come to life or a GQ model. Why was he in this place?

  “Tracy, two brandies, please,” he asked the barkeep, and in less than thirty seconds, a glass appeared in front of her. “Please take a seat.” The man settled onto a bar stool, and she did the same.

  “You better be quick about it.” Tracy nodded toward the men behind them.

  “Fuck them. She’s freezing and needs to warm up,” the hero beside her said.

  Hesitating for a moment, Saige picked up the glass and took a liberal drink. The liquid burned her throat but warmed her soul. Sure, she was shaking like a leaf, but it wasn’t just from the drenching she’d received outside.

  “Name’s Capone.” He offered her the hand that had shook fear into another man just moments ago.

  She frowned but took it anyway. “Like the gangster?”

  He chuckled and scratched his jaw, the sound of the scruff causing her to bend his way. “Something like that.” She’d always been a sucker for stubble.

  “So, you’re an outlaw.” She couldn’t resist the tease. Just moments ago, Saige secretly cursed an inebriated guy from coming on to her, but two sips of a brandy and she was flirting with the guy who saved her hide. It didn’t hurt that he was drop dead gorgeous.

  He swiveled on the bar stool and nodded toward the rest of the men lounging about the bar. “They are.”

  She twisted in her chair, and her eyes darted to the different men seated about the room. They all wore leather vests, the words Eternal Outlaws patched on the back. Had she wandered into a biker bar? Turning her attention to the man next to her, Saige was taken aback by the scar marring his beautiful face on the opposite side.

  “But this is the reason for the nickname.” Pointing to his face, he frowned and downed his drink.

  “Seriously,” Tracy placed a hand on his forearm and nodded to the door, “you need to take the girl and go before the rest of the gang gets here.”

  “Oh no, I’m not going anywhere with some man I don’t know. All I need is to have a cab come pick me up. Can I please use your phone?”

  “Look, girly.” The bartender placed a hand on her hip. “I’m trying to help you here. Through no fault of your own, you’ve placed yourself in a dangerous situation. No cab is going to come anywhere near this bar and for good reason. This is Outlaws’ territory. There are only a few prospects here, but any minute now the rest of the gang will be here, and they will make mincemeat out of you. That’s why I called my dumbass br
other here to come get you. Luckily, he was just outside checking my car.”

  Obviously, it was a bad night for vehicles. “Why do you work here if it’s so dangerous?” Saige didn’t mean to be rude, but exhaustion and fear were making a mess of her brain.

  “Because I’m dating one of the members. Cap, here is a member of the rival group, so it’s not safe for him either. The only reason these dickheads didn’t throw a fuss is because they know he’s my brother and that he could kick all their asses with one hand behind his back.”

  “Are you sure I can’t use your phone?” She tried one last time as a loud roar sounded outside. “Is that thunder?”

  Capone stood up. “No, the rest of the club is here. We really need to go. I couldn’t care less what happens to me, but like Tracy said, we don’t want them to see you.” He pushed their glasses toward his sister. “Please, I’ll take you wherever you want. Just hurry.”

  Before she knew it, Tracy and Capone each grabbed an arm and were leading her toward the back exit.

  “You can trust Cap. He’s a good kid. Now go.” The woman rushed back into the bar. She had kind eyes, but still. They stood in the back room surrounded by bottles of booze and cleaning supplies. Saige glanced up at the large man that Tracy’d just called a kid. What choice did she have? There was no staying there. Her phone had been left at her apartment, and she had no wheels. Taking a deep breath, her lungs got a whiff of Lysol.

  “You can go willingly or I can throw you over my shoulder and carry you out, but I’m not leaving you here alone.” Capone smirked, and she could tell he meant every word.

  Saige closed her eyes, saying a silent prayer. Her cause and effect quota was going full steam ahead again. If she hadn’t gone into this bar, she wouldn’t be leaving with a man she didn’t know. He could be a serial killer. A serial killer with a sister who seemed really, really nice.

  Loud voices sounded as she heard the tavern fill up with rowdy men. Her eyes popped open, and she stared up at the handsome man with the scar on this face. His eyes darted to the closed door, and his fingers flexed.

  Someone shouted his name, and her eyes met his. She no longer needed to think, just act. He grabbed her hand and out the back door they fled. The rain had stopped but the wind whipped as they ran. Following him around a shed, he opened the door to a black pickup truck, and she jumped inside.

  Capone joined her and started the engine. The tires threw mud as they sped out of the parking lot and onto the road. She risked a look back at the bar. A flash of light highlighted the rough crew that was now watching them depart. Swallowing, she sunk back in the seat.

  “Where’s your car?” He turned up the heat.

  “It’s just up over the hill.” With a shaky hand, she pointed the direction. As they drove over the summit, the lights of another vehicle came into view.

  “Looks like someone beat us to it.” Capone slowed.

  Saige leaned closer to the dash to get a better look. The truck neared her car, and she ducked down. “No, no. Keep going, don’t stop. Please. Don’t stop.”

  The man beside her hesitated before hitting the gas. “You’re sure? I thought you wanted to get to your car.”

  “I do but not with that guy there.” Her heart sank, and a little sob escaped. With her head near her knees, she tried to keep from throwing up. They drove for a few miles, and it barely registered that he’d placed a comforting hand on her back.

  “We’re not being followed. Do you mind telling why we couldn’t stop?”

  Slowly she rose and turned to see if it was true. Turning back to face the front, she took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to stop because that man is trying to kill me.”

  Chapter Two

  Capone

  What the fuck had he gotten into? Capone drove his truck into the garage, turned off the engine, and hit the button to close it behind them. The shock of seeing whoever the hell was by her car had caused Saige to clam up. Asking her where she wanted to go next didn’t help either.

  “You sure there isn’t someone I can call? Do you want to go to the police?” He’d not noticed it at first, but from the way she favored her wrist and the dark shadow on her face, the only conclusion one could come to was that the poor woman had been the victim of abuse. The fucker by her car? He should have stopped and beat the shit out of him right then and there. Was the bastard her husband? A boyfriend? Relative?

  Saige turned his way, her face difficult to read in the dim light of the building. “Where are we?”

  “My place.” Capone got out of the truck and came around to open her door. “I promise you’ll be safe here. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s clean, dry, and no one will hurt you. I can even ask Tracy to come over after work if that makes you feel better.”

  “It’s not what you think.” Her lower lip quivered.

  “Not my place to judge.” Slowly, she got out of the vehicle and noticeably winced when her foot hit the ground. He reached to steady her. “Are you okay? Do you need to see a doctor?”

  “No, it was stupid really. I fell when I was walking to the bar. I guess I was going on adrenaline. Now it hurts like hell.” She puffed out her cheeks and leaned against the side of the truck.

  “Did you hit your face also?” he wondered out loud.

  “I don’t want to talk about that.” Her eyes looked everywhere but at him.

  “That’s fine, but I’m a good listener if you feel like sharing.” Closing the truck door, he motioned for her to enter the house. “After you.”

  He guessed her age to be a few years younger than himself, maybe early twenties. Judging by the dark shadows under her eyes, and her hollow cheeks, Saige had been under duress for quite some time.

  She straightened to her full height, and he saw the woman was petite and slender, at least next to him she was. Saige took a step and wobbled, her features full of pain.

  “I gotcha.” Capone picked her up in his arms and carried her inside the house. Walking into the living room, he set her gently on the couch. “Let’s get you out of this wet coat.” She eased out of the rain jacket and rubbed her arms. He was hardly ever cold so there were no blankets lying around to cover her with. Shedding his windbreaker, he placed the flannel shirt he’d worn around her shoulders. Saige pulled it tighter and rested her head on the back of the couch. “Hungry?”

  “A little, but I don’t want to be any trouble.”

  “You’re no trouble. Just rest and I’ll warm up some soup.” He wasn’t a gourmet cook by any means, but he could open a can and warm shit up.

  “Capone.” She looked up at him with those big blue eyes. “Thanks for all your help.”

  The unshed tears in her eyes broke his heart.

  “You’re welcome.” He briefly touched the top of her shoulder before heading to the kitchen.

  Rummaging through the cupboards, he found a couple different kinds of soup. It wasn’t much but then he usually ate at the club or a nearby bar. Debating on whether she’d like clam chowder or chicken noodle, Capone wandered back to the living room to ask.

  Saige was sound asleep. Her features were pale but calm. It was probably best to just let her sleep. As much as he wanted to find out more about what had happened to her, he headed to the bedroom. There, high in the closet, was a soft throw Tracy gave him for Christmas one year. Returning to her side, he placed it on top of the sleeping woman and tucked her in.

  Staring down on her, he couldn’t help but think there was more to the story. A beautiful woman escapes bad situation only to fall into one that was potentially worse. Hell, he hated that his sister worked at that dump, but that was her choice. Saige seemed different than other women who had walked through those doors, and she was definitely out of her element.

  On her feet were rain boots. Very expensive rain boots. The name Hunter was written across the top. He’d be the first to say he knew nothing about women’s footwear, but he remembered knocking one of the same brand off a shelf at the sports store he sometimes stopped at.
Picking it up off the floor, it had the same name across the top and some more writing on the inside about it being appointed by the Queen of England or some shit. Her purse looked high-end also, yet she didn’t have a phone? Yeah, something was fucked up. The car she drove was pricey too. She had to have some kind of roadside assistance. It didn’t add up.

  Never one to like surprises, Capone returned to his room and fired up his laptop. The Tribe worked closely with the Caponelli crime family and they never turned down a request. He sent a text to Roman Caponelli’s right hand man, Arlo, to check his email. Forwarding all the info he had on Saige, and the license plate of her nemesis, there was a good chance that the family’s tech guy would get him the info he needed. At least he hoped so. Too bad he was so busy looking at the other guy’s vehicle. He’d not had a chance to take a look at the plates on Saige’s car, but he did remember to jot down the number of the bastard after her.

  Checking on Saige one more time, he turned off the lights and went to bed. It was only eleven at night, but it’d been a long day, and Capone had always been an early riser.

  There was nothing better than the smell of bacon in the morning. Using a fork, he flipped the juicy strips over as they sizzled in the cast iron skillet. A plate of pancakes sat nearby. As soon as Blondie woke up, he’d get her egg order. Breakfast was his bitch and he could make a mean omelet.

  His cell buzzed and vibrated on the counter. Arlo’s name flashed on the screen.

  “Yeah.” Capone answered as quietly as he could.

  “I got your info.” Arlo didn’t mess around and always got straight to the point.

  “Spill.” Capone returned the favor.

  “Without a last name, I don’t have any info on the girl. The license plate belongs to a grade A con artist. Jacob Taylor is his name. Likes to move around a lot. New name, new place. His latest gig is as a tracker on the dark web. The guy would take money to find missing relatives and then take money from the person he found if he promised not to tell their whereabouts. Since most are escaping a bad situation, the fucker gets paid twice.”

 

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