Wheels. And with a weapon pointed at Jagger’s back.
“I figured you might be coming to join the party,” Wheels sneered. “I only remembered you’d asked T-Rex to watch the bar after I got here. Didn’t want to bother Viper with a detail I could clean up myself, so I’ve been waiting. Turn around, throw me your phone, and drop the weapon.”
Blood pounded through Jagger’s veins so hard, he could barely see. “Fucking traitor.” He spat out the words as he turned, dropping the gun at an angle that would make it easy to retrieve if he had a chance to bend, and then tossing his phone at Wheels’s feet. “Were you working for the Jacks when you first started hanging around the club?”
A movement in the trees behind Wheels caught Jagger’s attention. A shadow in the darkness. And then a hand. A signal.
Zane.
Keep him talking.
“Right from the start.” Wheels laughed. “Viper’s been planning to break the truce since it began. He orchestrated everything. My fake background, paperwork, the way I look, the way I talk. All planned to bring you down. And it went like clockwork. The knowledge I’ve got in here.” He tapped his head. “Is going to destroy the Sinners forever. Only thing that will disappoint him is that you won’t be around to see Vexy die.”
Arianne.
He could not fail.
“We were on to you,” Jagger said. “We caught you on the surveillance tapes outside the old clubhouse. If you hadn’t picked this evening to take her, I would have had you down in my dungeon, begging for your life.”
Wheels smirked. “Wasn’t ideal for us either, but she was planning to run that night, and Viper was done with her. To be honest, I can’t believe you came to save her when she had no interest in staying with you. She was all packed and ready to go and start a new life without you. And you know what? I liked her, too. I even had a moment of weakness and tried to give her a push to leave before Viper set the wheels in motion.”
“But she didn’t go.” Jagger flexed his hand as Zane took up his position behind Wheels. “She stayed to save me.”
Crack. Zane’s shot echoed in the stillness. Wheels dropped to his knees, his face frozen in shock. Jagger dived for his gun, rolled, and pulled the trigger, pumping two bullets into Wheels’s chest. With a soft grunt, Wheels fell sideways, the gun falling from his hand.
“Halfway to hell…” Zane rasped as he stepped out of the shadows.
Jagger nodded, emotion welling up in his chest. “Halfway to hell, brother.”
* * *
“Gonna have a good time with you.” Bear trailed the barrel of his gun along Arianne’s jaw, making her flesh crawl. “Gonna have some of the sugar Leo’s been panting after all these years.”
Arianne slid her other wrist out of the cuffs and doubled them together, holding them around her knuckles in a fist behind her. “There’s no sugar left in me. Viper beat it out.” She shot out of her seat, hitting him in the solar plexus with her brass knuckle handcuffs, knocking the wind out of him, before she angled to the side and bolted.
“Fucking bitch is loose.” Viper shouted from the far end of the warehouse. “Catch her.”
Gulping air furiously, Arianne ran for the rear exit door. A sliver of light appeared, slicing through the darkness. Feet thudded behind her and the light grew brighter, then dimmed as a shadow filled the space. Her chest constricted. She knew that shadow. She had memorized every line and plane of that body, kissed that broad chest, held those massive shoulders.
“Jagger!” She screamed his name, because if she could see him, the others could see him, too, and if she was going to die, she wanted to go with his name on her lips.
“Fuck. Stop her.” A shot rang out, the bullet pinging off the concrete beside her feet.
“Arianne.” Jagger’s roar echoed through the warehouse, his rage evident in every taut line of his body.
She hit him at full tilt, knocking him back, and he immediately spun around, protecting her with his body.
“Go.” He pointed to the door.
But before she could protest, she caught movement in the shadows, and then Bear was beside them, his gun raised at Jagger’s unprotected left side.
No. She wasn’t going to lose him now. Her arm flew up and she aimed at Bear’s shoulder, but she was a second too late. His shot echoed through the warehouse, thudding into Jagger’s side. Jagger’s hand dropped to his cut, and he staggered back.
“Jagger!” Arianne pulled her trigger and Bear dropped to the ground with a loud thud. Horror washed over her in a suffocating black wave. “Oh God, I shot him.”
But she had no time to dwell. Another bullet thudded the concrete beside them, sending up a little puff of smoke. Jagger shoved her toward the side door. “Get out.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Dammit, Arianne. This isn’t the time to argue. Viper and I have a score to settle.”
She grabbed his arm and tugged him back. “You’ve been shot. And it’s not just Viper. Jeff is here too.”
“And he’s about to restore the family honor.” Jeff stepped out of the shadows.
“Jeff. Please. Don’t do this.” She stood in front of Jagger, protecting him with her body. Jagger muttered a protest and then dropped to one knee with a groan.
“Out of the way, girl,” Viper bellowed, coming up behind Jeff. “Let your brother show me he has what it takes to be a Jack, or I will be the last fucking thing you ever see.”
“Never.” She leveled her gaze at Viper and a calm settled over her body as she raised her weapon.
“Then die like your betraying mother did.” The barrel of his gun gleamed in the darkness.
“Don’t do it.” Jeff spun and pointed his weapon at Viper. “You’re the reason our family has no honor. You killed mom. You drove Arianne away. You destroyed our family. I was never good enough for you. No matter how hard I tried, I was never as good as Arianne. You beat me until I couldn’t take it anymore, until the drugs were the only thing that made life worth living. This is all your fault.”
“Don’t be a fool.” Viper growled. “Lower the gun and look to the real enemy. Your betraying sister and the bastard who dishonored our club.” His eyes lifted to Arianne. Cold. Black. Soulless. “It’s over, girl.”
“Not Arianne.” Jeff threw himself in front of Viper’s gun. The bullet hit his chest with a sickening thud, and his momentum carried him to the ground.
“Jeff!” Arianne screamed and dropped to her knees beside his body.
Viper roared in anguish and aimed his weapon at her head. “This is because of you, girl. You killed my son.”
Two shots rang out in the darkness. Viper stumbled back and fell. She glanced over and saw Jagger half sprawled on the floor, his gun still pointed where Viper had stood only moments ago.
The door burst open, flooding the warehouse with light. Zane raced to Jagger’s side, and Arianne bent over Jeff and checked for a pulse. But from the blood pooling on the floor beneath him, she knew she wouldn’t find one.
“I’m sorry.” A sob ripped from her throat and she smoothed his hair back from his pale, still face. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry I left you behind, but he said he would kill you before letting you. I didn’t know he loved you. Tears trickled down her cheeks. “Thank you for saving me, and for being there when I ran away. I tried to be a good sister to you. I’m sorry I failed. But I hope you finally have peace.”
Zane knelt beside her and pressed his finger to Jeff’s throat. “He’s gone,” he said softly. “Viper’s unconscious, but still alive. I don’t know if he’ll make it. And we got a problem.” His voice tightened. “Jagger wasn’t wearing a vest. The bullet hit close to his heart—”
Her breath left her in a rush. “The shrapnel. We need an ambulance.”
“Stay with him. My phone’s outside.”
She made her way over to Jagger, trying not to look at the hulking form of Viper lying still on the floor. Her father. But she felt nothing for him. No u
rge to help him. No sadness. No regret. No urge to help him. No remorse. If he died, he deserved his fate, and the world would be better for his absence.
“Baby…” The hair lifted on her nape when she crouched beside Jagger and took in the blood-soaked bandanna pressed against his chest. “Zane’s calling an ambulance.”
“I’m okay. Just a flesh wound.” He reached out to stroke her hair. “I’m sorry about Jeff.”
“He died doing something good.” She wiped a tear off her cheek. “I never knew how much he’d been suffering. He’ll have peace now, but I’ll miss him so much.”
The rumble of motorcycles filled the air and the warehouse trembled. Jagger gave her a half smile. “Sinners are here.”
She covered his hand with her own, pressing the bandanna harder against his chest. “They’ll look after you. Maybe they brought a cage.”
“No cages.” He coughed, and her gut twisted. They didn’t have time to wait for an ambulance. He needed medical attention now.
“If your girl says you’re riding in a cage, then you’re riding in a cage.”
Jagger gave her a weak smile. “My old lady.”
“Yes, and she’s prepared to defy you to save your life.”
Gravel crunched outside the front door and Arianne’s head jerked up, but hope died in her heart when she saw Zane’s grim face. “We gotta move him. It’s the Jacks.”
Bracing himself on the floor, Jagger pushed himself to sitting. “My bike’s out the side door.”
Arianne looked at him aghast. “You can’t ride.”
“Gotta ride, sweetheart, or we’re gonna die.”
She and Zane helped Jagger to his feet. Weapon ready, Zane pushed open the door, holding Jagger and Arianne back with his hand.
“Clear. You two go. I’ll try to head them off. Sinners will be coming from the south, so we should have backup soon.”
Arianne staggered under Jagger’s weight as they crossed the gravel toward his bike, but when she slid onto the driver’s seat, Jagger waved her back. “My bike. My ride.”
“You’re shot. Bleeding. I’ll drive.”
“Man can’t ride. Man can’t live. No time to argue. Now, move back.”
She slid back in the seat and threw her arms around his waist. “Stubborn ass. You might just get your wish.”
He revved the engine and looked back over his shoulder. “We’ll head back to the clubhouse from the north, avoid the conflict.”
“Go straight to the hospital.” She leaned up and pressed her lips to his ear. “Hospital.”
“No hospital. Doc Hegel will fix me up.”
“Jagger—”
But her protest was drowned in the roar of the engine as he pulled away.
Arianne looked back over the shoulder as they headed down the road. The Jacks had just crested the rise, and Zane was headed toward them, a lone soldier against an army.
“Zane.”
“He’ll be fine.” Jagger chuckled, then winced. “He rides almost as well as you.”
The world blurred past, and for a few minutes she thought everything would be okay. But only five miles into the ride, Jagger keeled to the side and the bike pitched. Arianne screamed and jerked him upright. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head and kept driving, but a few miles later they pitched again. “Stop.” She yelled over the roar of the engine. “Stop. You can’t drive.”
Jagger glanced at her in the rear view mirror and dipped his chin. She looked back over her shoulder and spotted the flash of multiple headlights in the distance, still far away but slowly gaining.
“I’m fine. I can ride.”
After another two miles, the bike dipped again. Her heart pounded so hard, she thought she’d break a rib. Pressing herself against Jagger’s back, she tried to support him with her arms. Stubborn man. Would they have to crash before he would accept her help? “Please, Jagger. Please let me drive.”
The foothills gave way to flatlands, but as they descended the rise, Jagger keeled forward and then slowed the bike, pulling into a turnoff at the side of the road.
“I … can’t … ride.” He choked on his words as he looked over his shoulder. “Take the bike. You’ll be able to outrun them. I’ll wait in the bushes over there. Call the Sinners, and someone will come for me.”
“Are you serious?” She slid off the seat and shoved him back to the pillion seat as fear and anger flooded her veins, a potent cocktail that gave her a strength she’d never known she had. “I can drive your bike, Jagger. Probably better than you, as you just pointed out. And there is no way in hell I’m leaving you out here. So just get over your damn masculine pride and get on that fucking pillion seat. I’m packing a Jagger package tonight.”
His lack of protest scared her even more than the blood seeping through his shirt. He eased himself back, and Arianne slid in front of him. “Hold on to me and prepare yourself for the ride of your life.”
He gave a weak chuckle and wrapped his arms around her, leaning his weight against her back. The thunder of motorcycles filled the valley, and she caught a sea of headlamps coming down the mountain toward them. “We’re going to a hospital.”
“No hospital. Take me to the clubhouse. Doc knows what to do. I promise you.”
Sweat beaded on her brow as she accelerated away from the turnoff and back on to the highway, trying to adjust her balance to accommodate his weight. The world flew past but she saw nothing except the road in front of her. Heard nothing but Jagger’s tortured breaths, felt nothing but his weight getting heavier and heavier behind her, his grip around her waist loosening.
“Hold on.” She turned a corner and recognized the road and forest. “Only a mile to go. And I don’t see them behind us, I think we’ve lost them.”
But although she was fast, she wasn’t fast enough. When his hands trembled around her waist, and slipped to her thighs, his weight almost fully coming down on her, she pulled off the road. By the time she’d come to a full stop, she was bearing almost his full weight against her back.
“Jagger.” She panted as she struggled to hold the bike upright and keep Jagger from falling, but it was too much. The bike dropped to the ground, and Jagger fell, rolling into the ditch.
“No.” Scrambling over the fallen bike, adrenaline coursing through her veins, she slid down the ditch after him. “Talk to me. Say something.”
She eased him onto his back and watched his chest rise and fall. Still breathing. Relief flickered through her.
With a soft groan, Jagger lifted his head. “Call Zane. Let him know where we are.”
“Well, that’s a problem, because Bear took my phone when I got to the clubhouse. Where’s your phone?”
“Wheels got it.”
“Bad planning on your part.”
“Don’t … make me laugh, sweetheart. Hurts too much. You go. Please. They’re not far away.”
“Not that I would ever leave you,” she said, her voice thick with derision. “But I can’t lift the bike on my own. It must weigh at least one thousand pounds. Your fault for buying American. Wait here while I go hide it.”
With one last look back at Jagger, she climbed up the ditch and gathered branches to cover the bike. She had just thrown the last few boughs over the top and slid into the ditch when the Black Jacks raced past in a thunder of dust and metal.
“They’re gone,” she whispered. But when she looked down, Jagger’s eyes were closed.
“Wake up.” She shook him. “Wake up, Jagger.”
Terror burst from her chest in a long, plaintive wail, and she grabbed the fallen bandanna and pressed it to his wound. “Please, wake up.”
Stay and staunch the bleeding or leave him and run for help? Her brain froze with indecision and then she bent down and pressed her lips to his. “I’m the one who is supposed to leave. Not you.”
Lips. Fingers. Mouth. Whistle. Max.
Max.
Jagger had said he could hear a whistle a mile away. Licking her lips, she stuck h
er two fingers in her mouth and blew. But her lips were quivering and tears were running down her cheeks and she couldn’t take a deep enough breath to make a sound.
Calm. Stay strong. She squeezed one of Jagger’s hands and thought of the night he’d caught her as she tried to run away. She thought about his warm arms around her, his soft lips the first time he kissed her, his hard body against hers. She imagined his deep voice, his dry humor. Her heart thumped softly in her chest, and her body relaxed.
“I love you.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek and then she whistled.
Loud and clear. Again and again. One perfect whistle after the next. Until she had no breath and the night grew still, and his cheek grew cold to touch.
TWENTY-FIVE
Property patches are optional for old ladies.
White.
Everything was white.
For a moment he wondered if he’d died, but when he glanced to the side and saw Arianne asleep in a chair, he knew he’d made it to heaven.
Unwilling to wake her, he looked around, taking in the bright, sterile room, machines beeping around him, wires protruding from his chest and arms. All the signs of a hospital.
Jagger’s stomach clenched. He’d spent the last ten years blocking the memories of his last hospital stay: the IV that pulled at his hand; the cloying scent of disinfectant; the tubes in his throat, stents in his heart, and lungs; and pain so bad, they had strapped him to the bed and dosed him up with morphine and ketamine. Four weeks of agony. Four weeks before they’d told him it was too big a risk to remove the shrapnel from his heart and his career in the military was over. Of all the memories, that one was the worst.
“You’re awake. I’ll ring for the nurse.”
He looked over at the angel beside his bed. Deep shadows circled her eyes, and her face was pale and drawn, but he’d never seen a more beautiful sight.
“Arianne.” His voice was a hoarse rasp, almost unrecognizable. She poured a glass of water from a pitcher on the table and held the straw for him to drink.
“I’ve been waiting so long to hear your voice.” Then her face crumpled. “You were supposed to wake up days ago … after the surgery … the doctors didn’t know what was wrong.”
The Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club, Books 1-3 Page 33