Sinner's Steel

by Sarah Castille

  She laughed, trying to put Connie at ease. “I’ll make sure Viper knows that torturing my friends is a deal breaker, and he’ll have to find another civilian to date. And if it makes you feel safer, you can stay here. I have my own personal Sinner’s Tribe biker guards so you can be sure the Jacks won’t be coming around.”

  “I noticed them standing on the street on my way in.” Connie licked her lips and grinned. “Cute, but in a menacing kind of way.”

  They left the kitchen to check out the bikers, now huddled together under a tree as the rain streamed around them. Evie recognized the blond from the night Axle had paid his first visit to Bill’s shop, but not his dark-haired partner.

  “I texted Jagger,” she said. “Apparently Axle escaped from Zane so now Jagger has his boys watching my house and the shop in case Axle shows up again. I told him none of the Jacks know where I live, and Axle won’t be coming around again, but he insisted. They really want the poor guy bad. I’m afraid to think what they might do to him.”

  “You know exactly what they’re going to do. Zane was trying to kill him.” Connie’s lips quivered at the corners and she shot Evie a sideways glance. “They’re looking kind of wet. And cold. The hot, dark one shivered when I walked by earlier. It would be terrible if they died of pneumonia right there on the street. And they look so young … early to mid-twenties … same as us. I don’t know if I could live with myself, knowing I was the cause of their deaths.”

  Evie tipped her head back and groaned. “You’re as bad as Ty when he’s trying to guilt me into buying him something he doesn’t need.”

  “Please, Evie.” Connie gave her a soulful look. “Can’t they come inside?”

  “Okay.” Evie sighed. “They can sit on the porch, but you’re responsible for them.”

  “I’ll just give them food and water and clean up their mess. And I won’t ask to keep them.” Connie pulled open the door. “You can have the blond, but leave the dark-haired one for me.”

  Evie leaned out and waved the bikers over to the house. Yeah, the blond guy was cute, but she wasn’t looking for a man. She hadn’t had a serious relationship since Mark, and Viper was just … an interesting distraction. Especially now that she’d seen Zane. She brought her fingers to her cheek, remembering the heat of his breath, and how she had almost let him kiss her.

  Zane.

  The intense connection and chemistry that had first drawn them together hadn’t changed. But she had. She was finally in control of her life. No longer at the mercy of her mother’s emotional abuse, or longing for a father who was rarely home, she had embraced normal to the extent she knew what normal was. She made her own choices, cleaned up her own messes, and occasionally let her wild side out to play. And that most definitely wasn’t going to be with the man who had left her alone and pregnant, wishing on a promise he didn’t keep.

  She let Connie fuss over the bikers while she called to check up on Ty and chatted with him about his game. By the time she made it outside, Connie had everything ready: coffee, sandwiches, and cookies. She introduced Evie to the bikers, dark-haired Tank and his companion, T-Rex.

  “Much obliged for the snack.” Tank stood to make room as Evie joined them on the porch.

  “Thank Connie, not me. She’s the one who felt sorry for you standing out in the rain.”

  Tank leaned back and stretched out his long legs, the patio chair creaking beneath his weight as they chatted about the town and the club. He was a bear of a man, but all muscle and no flab, with a cheeky smile and a dry sense of humor. She could see why Connie was practically drooling over him. T-Rex had a similar build to Tank, but without the bulk. He was fun and easygoing and she was surprised to hear he didn’t have a girlfriend. Connie gave her a nudge when T-Rex made the big reveal, but he was too nice, even though he was an outlaw, and Evie had never been attracted to the “nice” guys.

  Still, she’d never thought outlaw bikers could be such fun, and when Connie switched their coffee for beer, and the conversation turned flirtatious, she felt the stress of the last two days sliding away. Between the jokes and the laughter, they all turned a blind eye to the fact the rain had stopped and the sun had come out. And when T-Rex put a hand on Evie’s knee as he leaned over to get another beer, she wondered if she’d been too hasty dismissing the nice guys. Maybe that’s what she needed in her life. Someone relaxed and even-tempered, without a hint of Zane’s dark, brooding, passionate depths, or Viper’s feral power.

  And just as Zane’s face flickered through her mind, there he was. How he had managed to drive down her street and climb the steps without any of them noticing was beyond her, save as a testament to just how much fun they’d been having.

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” he snapped by way of greeting. “What the hell is going on?”

  SIX

  Think before you act. If you do impulsive, stupid things, you will break parts.

  —SINNER’S TRIBE MOTORCYCLE REPAIR MANUAL

  Evie gently removed T-Rex’s hand from her leg and stood to greet her guests. But Zane clearly wasn’t interested in hellos. His gaze locked on T-Rex and his lips peeled back in a snarl.

  “What the fuck are you doing touching her?”

  Zane’s companion, a young, slightly crazed-looking biker with a thin, angular face and a dark, pointed goatee joined him on the porch, and pulled a gun from his cut.

  “You want me to take someone out?” He waved the gun vaguely over their small group and Connie screamed.

  “Dammit, Shooter. Put that away. We’re in a residential area and if someone calls the fucking cops, I’m not bailing you out.” Zane slapped Shooter’s wrist and the aptly-named Shooter tucked the gun away with a mumbled apology.

  T-Rex and Tank scrambled to their feet. T-Rex hung his head like a kid who’d just been called to the principal’s office, and Tank followed suit.

  “It was … uh … rainin’,” Tank said. “And the ladies offered us a snack and a chance to dry off.”

  Zane’s lips pressed into a thin, tight line. Evie knew that look, just as she knew the throb of the pulse in his neck. She’d seen that look back in their school days when he found out someone had hurt her, or worse, asked her out. Alarmed by his anger, Evie took a step toward him.

  “Don’t.” He raised his hand and she froze, stunned by his command and his authoritative tone. So unlike the Zane she remembered. Like Jagger¸ he radiated power, but without Jagger’s softer edge.

  “How the fuck can you watch the street if you’re gabbing with a coupla chicks?” Zane’s hands curled into fists. “Shooter and I drove around the block, parked our bikes out front, walked right onto the porch, and you two idiots didn’t even bat an eye.”

  “Sorry, man.” T-Rex held up his hands palm forward in a placating gesture. Evie gave him credit for remaining cool in a crisis. Zane had been frightening in his anger as a teenager, but now that he was a man, his intensity had ratcheted up to a whole new level.

  “Sorry doesn’t cut it if someone gets killed.” Zane’s voice rose to a shout.

  Worried that the confrontation would escalate out of control, Evie covered his hand with her own, startling when a zing of white lightning shot straight to her core.

  “It’s okay,” she said softly. “We’re okay. No one came down the street except you.”

  Zane jerked his hand away so fast, Evie lost her balance. Reacting quickly, T-Rex grabbed her arm to steady her. Zane lost control. He grabbed T-Rex by the collar and yanked him forward, dislodging his hand from Evie’s arm.

  “Get your fucking hands off her.”

  Evie opened her mouth to ask what the hell was going on, but closed it again after a warning cough from Tank. Following his lead, she thanked them for watching out for her and moved to the side to let them pass.

  “Why aren’t you at the shop?” Zane turned his anger on her, and Connie discreetly ushered Shooter down the steps.

  “It’s Sunday.” She struggled to keep her voice calm and even. “We usually ha
ve the day off and Bill runs the store alone, although he seems to have disappeared so it’s closed today.” She tilted her head to the side. “Why? Did you need something?”

  “Yeah.” His voice softened, and their eyes met. Caught in the intensity of his gaze, Evie was drawn back to the first time she realized her feelings for him went beyond friendship. After school one warm spring afternoon they’d climbed their favorite tree to check out a robin’s nest. As always, Zane went down first. But that time, when he wrapped his hands around her waist to help her, something changed. Warmed by the press of his hands on her body, she stared into his dark eyes, and knew deep in her soul she was exactly where she was meant to be. In that moment, the world shifted irrevocably between them, and when he let her go, she felt instantly bereft.

  After that afternoon, she’d made up excuses to touch him—brushing her thigh against his leg when they sat on Jagger’s couch, a hand on his arm when she lost her balance, a gentle stroke on his hair to remove an imaginary leaf—and every time she felt the rush, a curious sizzle that went straight to her core. But except for that brief moment when he’d held her, his eyes soft, his breath warm on her cheek, he never treated her as anything more than a friend.

  Until the night he ran away.

  “What are you looking for?” She looked down, letting her hair cover her face so he couldn’t see the flush in her cheeks. “I have a few hours free this afternoon, and since Bill isn’t there, I don’t mind going in to help you out. Ty … my son … is with a friend.”

  “Paint.”

  God, this was as bad as getting Ty to tell her about his day at school. “Do you need to buy paint or are you looking for artwork?”

  “Art. Yours.”

  Evie fought back a smile. Zane had always reverted to monosyllabic answers in emotionally stressful situations, and she had a feeling his stress wasn’t because of T-Rex and Tank shirking their duties. “You want to see my portfolio and some samples or do you have something in mind?” She sidestepped around him, heading for the door so she could grab her purse. Her body brushed against his and just that tiny touch—the feel of his hard chest against her breasts, the scent of his leather cut—sent her pulse skyrocketing, and she stumbled.

  Zane put out a hand to steady her, then yanked her against him, holding her fast with an arm around her waist. “You were always touching me, Evie,” he murmured. “Drove me outta my fucking mind. You playing games with me now?”

  Her chest expanded and she sucked in some badly needed air. This wasn’t Zane the teenager, who fumbled with her clothes beside the creek, his hands shaking as he touched her bare skin. This was Zane the man, confident, self-assured and strong, with a dominance that made her knees weak and a body that made her mouth water.

  Dangerous. Maybe even a killer.

  No. She pushed the thought away. Even after she gave up hope of seeing him again, she never believed he was responsible for her father’s death.

  “We should go.” She pulled away, at least she thought she did, but his hand stayed firm on her lower back. “I’ll show you my portfolio.”

  “Saw it when I stopped by the shop on my way here. You got real talent. Always did.”

  “You broke into the shop?” The warmth of his hand seeped through her body making it difficult to keep her spine stiff and her indignation firm.

  A half grin spread across his face, and his shoulders relaxed. “Thought maybe you were unconscious inside since the hours on the door said the shop was open on Sunday.”

  “And you didn’t think to call Tank or T-Rex who were parked outside my house?”

  “I’m a man of action, sweetheart.” He nuzzled the side of her face, the rasp of his breath in her ear so damn erotic she wanted nothing more than to drag him into her house and do something insanely stupid.

  “I hope you didn’t rampage through the shop during your break-in. It’s partly my business, too.”

  He jerked back and his smile faded. “You think I’m gonna steal from you?”

  She cringed at his sharp tone, but better to have him annoyed than sexy and seductive. “You are an outlaw biker. Isn’t that what you do? Mayhem, theft, arson … the more illegal the better?”

  “We do what we gotta do to live the way we want to live.”

  Evie pulled away, putting some much-needed space between them. “The way I want to live includes having a way to pay the rent, and that’s not going down if anything happens to the shop. Plus, Axle won’t be back. I told Jagger, but he didn’t believe me. He was just delivering a message from someone.” She turned to the door, cringing at the reveal she hadn’t intended to make, but before she could step inside, Zane clamped a hand on her shoulder.

  “Who?”

  Her heart pounded a warning, but she couldn’t outright lie, and the question suggested he already knew the answer. “Viper.”

  Zane hissed in a breath. “What was the message?”

  She twisted a lock of hair around her finger, and looked back at him over her shoulder. “It’s … sort of … personal. We’re … um … friends.”

  His gaze locked on her finger and his eyes narrowed. Damn. He knew her anxiety tell as well as she knew his. “Viper doesn’t have friends.”

  “Maybe you don’t know him that well.”

  He released her and took a step back. “Maybe I don’t know you.”

  * * *

  Zane flicked the throttle on his Harley and the bike surged forward, forcing Evie to tighten her grip around his waist.

  He could do this.

  The distance between Evie’s house and Bill’s shop couldn’t be more than twenty miles. And look. He’d already made it to the highway. If she would just stop wiggling on the seat behind him … and if she didn’t hold him quite so tight with her breasts pressed up against her back … and if her fingers weren’t dangling over the bulge in his jeans, which was getting more pronounced the closer she pressed her body against his … then he might actually make it to Big Bill’s shop without either crashing the bike or spilling in his pants like a teenage boy.

  He couldn’t remember feeling lust like this since the night he’d left Stanton. Sure he’d had women. The sweet butts were always warm and willing, and if he wanted to keep things discreet, the Sinners owned several strip clubs in town. But he rarely felt the need to take advantage of the opportunities the cut provided. And when he did, every woman morphed into Evie. She had been burned onto his brain for eighteen years, ruining him for other women forever.

  And now her soft, sexy body was pressed up against him, her thighs brushing his thighs, her hips firm against his ass, and her damn fingers resting on his fly.

  His groin tightened and he swerved the bike.

  Fuck. Concentrate. But it was so damn hard.

  He wondered what Mark would think about his wife riding on the back of Zane’s bike, holding on to him, legs parted, cheeks flushed from the wind. If she’d been his, there would be no way he would allow her on the back of any man’s bike. Hell, he wouldn’t let her near another man. Look how he reacted to her, despite the stain of her betrayal still tainting his heart.

  By the time they reached the shop, his cock was rock hard and his body thrummed with need. Shooter pulled up beside them and Zane prayed for Evie to dismount quickly so he would have time to get himself together and calm the fuck down so she wouldn’t see the evidence of his desire.

  He wanted her. She’d hurt him and he wanted her. She was with another man and he wanted her. She’d slapped him and damned if seeing Evie come into her own hadn’t made him want her more. And back there on the porch, when she’d brushed her breasts against his chest, the way she’d touched him when they were young, telling him with her body what she couldn’t say out loud, he’d almost taken her.

  “Gotta talk to Shooter,” he said after she slid neatly off his bike. “I’ll meet you inside.”

  “I’ll go check out the damage.” She gave him a wink and then walked to the door, making his groin tighten all over again at
the sight of her beautiful ass perfectly outlined in dark denim.

  After the door closed behind her, he briefed Shooter on surveillance techniques, which basically meant finding somewhere to stand where you aren’t visible and don’t fall asleep. He sent Shooter to the picnic table across the street, and then walked around his bike and tried to get his fucking lust in check. He considered the various bike parts, how they fit together and how easily they came apart, and how hard it had been to replace his stock exhaust with a longer, harder, thicker pipe, and how he had to fight with Sparky to get an upswept ball-end megaphone muffler.

  When he realized the direction his thoughts were leading, he gave up the fight, made a careful self-adjustment, and headed into the store.

  Rows of motorcycles gleamed under the overhead lights. Bill had a lot of stock for a small shop, mostly new models, but a few bobsters, and some custom pieces. The walls held parts and supplies, racks of leathers, helmets, and boots. Although half the stock was used, the scent of new leather and fresh paint permeated the air.

  He found Evie in the garage spraying primer on a gas tank perched on an A-frame stand. She had stripped down to a skintight tank top and tied her hair back in a messy ponytail. Loose strands framed her beautiful face. Damn she was hot, standing in that gritty shop, surrounded in motorcycle parts, and with a spray gun in her hand …

  Christ. Was everything going to make him think about sex?

  “Thought I’d get a head start on my work for tomorrow while I was waiting. My portfolio is over there if you need to look at it under more legitimate circumstances, or if you’ve brought a design, just leave it on the bench and I’ll take a look.”

  Zane walked along the wall beside the benches filled with paint supplies and airbrush guns. He had already checked the place out, trying to find clues about her life from the personal items in her workspace: a handbook from Conundrum College; a parenting magazine; a coffee cup from a restaurant in Stanton; a motorcycle magazine; and the charcoal drawing of him, Jagger, and Evie on the wall—a rendition of the picture he had given her. Even now, seeing it again, a lump welled up in his throat—not just because of the memory, but because she’d kept it, and made it larger than life.