Sinner's Steel

by Sarah Castille

  Arianne lifted an eyebrow. “Does Evie know?”

  “No. And I’m not gonna tell her.”

  She holstered her gun and laughed. “I think I’d better hang around Jagger just in case. She might be a small-town girl but she’s got old lady steel. You should have heard her bossing everyone around in Sparky’s shop. Just over a week and she has her business up and running again. And if she finds out Jagger’s the one who turned you black and blue, I have no doubt she’ll go after him. Even if he was her friend. Even if you’ve been back for four days and didn’t get in touch with her. And even if you deserve what you got.”

  Christ. Most of the women in the club had been sympathetic and caring over the last couple of days he’d stayed upstairs in his room to recover. They’d tended his wounds, fed him, and found brothers to help him up when he wanted to shower. Jagger had been up to see him every day, helped change his bandages, brought him pizza. But not Arianne. He had no doubt she’d have thrown the first punch if Jagger let her, and she would have used brass knuckles, too.

  “I’d like to see you try to protect Jagger. You know if there’s even a hint of danger, he’ll be shoving you away.”

  “We’ll shove each other.” Arianne laughed and her face softened. “That’s what we do best.”

  “Zane!” Evie came around the corner and waved.

  His breath left him in a rush. How long had it been since he’d seen her? Seven days? Eight? Fuck she was even more beautiful than he remembered. The sun caught her hair as she ran toward him, catching those gold highlights and making them sparkle. Good thing. Otherwise those barely there shorts and tiny tank top stretched tight over her luscious breasts might just have distracted him entirely, instead of leaving him just enough sense to hold out a gun when she approached, blocking his body. He couldn’t let her touch him without giving himself away. Even after four days he couldn’t bear anything more than the clothes touching his skin.

  “You wanna learn to shoot today?”

  Evie pulled up short, her brow creased in a frown. “I know how to shoot. Bill taught me. And I beat you every time we played Undercover Ops.”

  “Shooting a TV screen isn’t the same as shooting in real life, sweetheart. And you never beat me. I let you win.” He handed her the gun, and her arms dropped to her sides.

  “Where have you been for the last week? Is something wrong?”

  “Biker business so I can’t talk about it.” He spun her around to face the target and put his arms around her to help her steady the gun, trying to keep a space between their bodies.

  “Why do you want me to shoot so bad?” She looked up over her shoulder, her cheek soft against his jaw. “Is it not safe here? Should I take Ty away?”

  “You’re safe here, sweetheart.” He buried his lips in the softness of her hair. She smelled of honey and jasmine, thick and sweet, and he longed for a little taste. “Pull the trigger. Let’s see what you got.”

  She aimed the weapon, pulled the trigger and the bullet glanced off the top of the target and hit a tree.

  “Like this.” He repositioned her hands and bent her elbows, then gently tilted the gun barrel down an inch. Evie stepped back, pressed herself into his body. Zane hissed and jerked away at the potent mix of pleasure and pain.

  “What’s wrong?” Evie spun around. “Why don’t you want to touch me?”

  “I do.” He cupped her face between his hands and bent down to kiss her, his lips moving over hers, drinking her down like he was dying of thirst. She opened for him, ran her tongue over the seam of his lips, and he stroked inside her, tangling his tongue with her own. She tasted of coffee and cream—regular, not whipped.

  Evie moaned and slid her arms around his waist. Zane flinched, and she backed away.

  “You’re hurt.”

  “It’s nothing.” He gestured to her gun. “Let’s do more shooting.”

  “I’ll shoot if you show me what’s under your shirt.” She slid her hand along the V of her shirt to the crescents of her breasts and gave him a sensual smile. “In fact, I’ll forgive you for leaving and show you mine if you show me yours.”

  All Zane’s blood rushed to his groin and his cock hardened in an instant. Too much. It had been too long. Jagger had been careful this time, taking care not to hit his face too much so Evie wouldn’t get alarmed. He’d also avoided Zane’s kidneys and his groin, for which Zane was particularly grateful, especially now when he wanted her so damn bad he was seconds away from taking her on the grass.

  “You show me what’s under your shirt and if you hit the target on two out of three tries, I’ll show you what’s under mine,” he countered.

  Evie twisted her lips to the side, considering, and then she lifted the gun. “Done. Bill spent a long time showing me how to shoot in case there was trouble at the shop.” She edged the gun up, fired, and completely missed the target.

  “Not that I like to speak ill of the dead,” Zane said, “but if that’s what he taught you, I’m glad you never had trouble at the shop. You woulda shot out a coupla nice bikes, maybe a window, but no bad guys.”

  Evie looked back over shoulder. “And here I thought you were the bad guy.”

  Oh he was bad, all right. The things he wanted to do to her right now were illegal in several states, maybe a few countries, too.

  Zane growled deep in his throat. “Don’t tease a man with a weapon.”

  “I can’t help it when his weapon is so big.” She wiggled her ass against him and grinned. Playful Evie. Fuck. He loved making her smile as much as he loved making her wet.

  “Behave.”

  “I want to see you shoot with the big gun.” She turned and patted the holster under his cut, her hand sliding down to his belt.

  Too late he realized the danger. Evie yanked up his shirt and gasped.

  “Oh. My. God. What happened to you?”

  “Got in a fight.”

  “A fight?” She shoved his shirt higher, walked around his back. “Oh, baby. You’re hurt so bad.”

  This was good. Her compassion had overridden her curiosity.

  Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.

  “Not hurt everywhere, sweetheart.” He turned quickly, bent down and nipped the exposed skin at the base of her neck. Christ, he loved to mark her, to see those bruises on her neck and know she belonged to him, to keep the predators at bay.

  Evie shuddered as he licked the tiny wound. “Here?”

  “Upstairs. You still have to make good your deal and I can promise it will make me feel a whole lot better.”

  He led her around the side of the clubhouse and up the front steps. Shaggy was on guard duty and waved them inside.

  “Hey Zane. Nice to see you up and about. Jagger worked you over pretty good the other night. I thought you’d be laid up for at least a week. But four days! You’re one tough bastard.”

  Evie froze on the step beside him. “Jagger did this to you?”

  “Biker business.” Zane put his arm on her lower back and steered her inside. “I’ll explain what I can upstairs.”

  “Upstairs where you’ve been suffering for four days and no one called me?” Her voice rose in pitch. “I was only a ten-minute drive away. I could have looked after you.” Eyes flashing, she spun out of his grasp.

  “Jagger!” She shouted his name and stormed into the living room.

  “Shit. Did I say something wrong?” Shaggy came up beside him, stroking his thick gray beard. “I thought everyone knew. Isn’t that the point?”

  “Yeah. But it wasn’t a lesson Evie needed to learn.”

  He knew the exact moment Evie spotted Jagger talking to Gunner and Arianne in the vast room the MC used for church, the monthly mandatory meetings for all full-patch brothers. Save for a few couches and chairs, a long table where the board sat, and a computer table where Dax recorded minutes, the room was bare. No pictures on the walls, no curtains on the windows. Nothing to distract the brothers during the meetings.

  Her feet thudded
on the wooden floor, her hair fanning out behind her. She was glorious in her anger and he was glad for the small mercy Jagger hadn’t been in the living room because what was about to go down wasn’t something a small boy like Ty should see.

  “Jagger!”

  Jagger looked up, but before he could move to greet her, Arianne stepped into Evie’s path.

  “That’s as far as you go.”

  “Get out of my way.” Evie’s voice shook with anger.

  Zane crossed the floor toward her. “Let it go, sweetheart.”

  “Let it go? Look what he did to you.” She tried to step around Arianne. “Get out here, Jagger, or are you afraid to look me in the eye and tell me what you did?”

  “Zane made him do it.” Arianne folded her arms, and scowled. “Jagger’s hurting as much as Zane. He spent the last four days at the clubhouse looking after him. Zane broke the rules. He had to be punished. That’s our way.”

  “Your way?” Evie’s hands clenched into fists. “Your way is to beat a man half to death? What could he possibly have done to deserve that?”

  “She’s magnificent,” Sparky murmured, coming up behind Zane. “Between her and Arianne, my shop has never run as efficiently. The brothers are afraid to step out of line.”

  “Definitely old lady material.” Gunner sidestepped the fray to join them. “You keeping her?”

  “Yeah,” Zane said, his chest swelling with pride. “She’s mine.”

  * * *

  Evie’s chest heaved and she glared at Arianne. Why wouldn’t she get out of the way? This had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with Evie needing to know exactly what being part of this world meant.

  “He went against my orders.” Jagger stepped out from behind Arianne. “He broke the rules. He had a choice. Punishment or a kick out. He agreed to the punishment.”

  “That’s barbaric.” Her voice rose in pitch and she tried to bring it down, but seeing Zane so badly injured, and knowing Jagger had done it … Her gaze dropped to the bottom of Jagger’s cut, lined with small red diamond patches.

  Blood patches.

  “Don’t judge us,” Arianne warned. “This is a different world. We play by different rules. Enforcing order in the club is a matter of survival—for both the MC and civilians.”

  “What’s going on?” Connie ran into the room. “Evangeline? Everything okay?”

  “Get Ty packed up. We’re leaving.” She couldn’t stay here, couldn’t expose Ty to this, couldn’t accept that Zane was part of this world.

  “But…” Connie’s eyes widened and she jerked her head toward the door to the basement where they figured a dungeon might be. “I thought we were going to … play pool.”

  Evie’s stomach twisted. Did she really want to know if there was a woman in the dungeon? Her gaze flicked down to the bottom of Zane’s cut. Blood patches. Just like Viper said. How ironic that everyone thought of Viper as the bad guy, and yet he had told her the truth.

  “Come upstairs with me,” Zane murmured in her ear, his arm sliding around her waist. “I’ll explain it to you. Answer any questions you have.”

  Her shoulders slumped as the fight drained out of her. It was all Viper said and more. The Sinners were no different from the Jacks. Zane no different from Viper. This wasn’t a TV show, it was worse. It was real and as bad as she could have imagined.

  TWENTY

  A bad repair decision may end up costing you time and money, but that’s OK. Everything can be fixed.

  —SINNER’S TRIBE MOTORCYCLE REPAIR MANUAL

  “Take off your clothes.” Evie leaned against Zane’s bedroom door, more for support than a means of escape.

  “Evie…”

  A growl curled in her throat, her anger growing as she realized this was the beginning of the end. Once she saw what was under his shirt, there would be no going back. “Take them off. I want to see what he did to you.”

  He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on the bed, then he stripped down to his boxers. Her legs trembled as her gaze swept over his body, starting at his feet, her strength leaving her as she took in the discolored skin on his shins and thighs, the cuts on his wrists, and then gave out when she saw the full extent of his bruised and lacerated torso.

  Her beautiful Zane.

  She sank down to the floor, wrapped her arms around her legs, buried her head and sobbed, the grief ripping her apart inside. Tears spilled down her cheeks dripping on the floor with each ragged inhale. She cried not just for him, but for them, and the knowledge they could never be together.

  “Fuck.” Zane’s voice was harsh, raw as he crossed the room to kneel beside her. “Sweetheart, it’s not as bad as it looks.”

  She shook her head, held herself tighter, unable to speak for the images spinning around in her mind. Jagger had no bruises on his body. That guilty look on his face when he’d come into the shop … the marks on Zane’s wrists.

  Zane hadn’t fought back. His hands were tied and he hadn’t fought back.

  “Let me explain.” He cradled her in his arms, as if she was the one hurting. She supposed, in a way, she was.

  “There’s nothing to say that could make this acceptable to me.” Evie sniffed back her tears. “I can’t do this, Zane. Seeing you like this is tearing me apart. I’ll never be able to forgive Jagger, never forget what he did to you. I won’t even pretend to understand how you agreed to it. The fact that you live in a world where this kind of thing goes on is bad enough, but on top of it … your patches … blood…”

  “I’ll leave the MC.” Simple words and yet they weighed heavy on her heart.

  “I don’t want you to leave.” She held herself stiff, afraid to touch his battered body. “This club means everything to you. That you would take a beating from your best friend tells me how much you love this life. You would hate me every day for taking you away from it.”

  “I love you more,” he said. “I have always loved you. I’ve lived my life in the shadows because I couldn’t let you go.” He drew in a ragged breath, brushed his lips over her hair. “I can’t lose you now. I went looking for Viper because I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

  She struggled to sit, pushed herself to standing. “I can’t bear the thought of losing you either, but I don’t even know who I am anymore. All I know is that I’ve been stupidly naive, and this life you lead isn’t for me. I want to be with you, but I don’t see how this can work.”

  His face smoothed, eyes darkened. Even now she knew him so well, she could see his emotional retreat.

  She closed her fist and hit it to her breast, her eyes stinging with tears all over again. “It hurts me to see you in pain. It hurts me to think of you suffering. It hurts me to think of you in such danger that you have to take a life. I’ve spent my whole life hurting because I wanted you and couldn’t have you. I just can’t take the hurting anymore. I love you, Zane, but it hurts just too damn bad, and now you’re taking risks for me that could get you killed. I don’t want that. Even if we can’t be together, I need to know you’re alive and happy and doing what you love to do.”

  His voice, when he spoke, was thick with pain. “You want to walk away? What about Ty?”

  “I don’t know.” God, why couldn’t she stop crying? “I need some time to think about it. He adores you. He’s so happy to have you in his life, I can’t take that away from him.”

  She turned, reached for the door, but it felt too wrong. Unfinished. There was something she needed to do.

  “Will you let me do something for you before I go?”

  “Anything.”

  She gestured to his bruised, battered body. “You did this for me. I want to give something back. I want to take care of you so when I leave I’ll know you’re going to be okay.”

  * * *

  Pain.

  His life was all about pain.

  And yet the pain in his body was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. Zane’s hand clenched on his breast. If he could rip his damn heart out of
his chest he would. Go back to the darkness that had sustained him for the last nine years, back to the shadows. Out of the damn light.

  He heard the rush of water in the shower from the en suite bathroom, a luxury afforded only the senior patch brothers who kept rooms at the clubhouse, but he couldn’t go in. He was too wound up, too out of control, too damn emotional.

  What else could he do? He had meant every word when he told her he would fight to be with her. He just hadn’t realized she would be the one standing in his way.

  With a roar, he thudded his fist against the wall. His hands were about the only place on his body that wasn’t bruised. Might as well remedy that problem because he had saved them for nothing.

  When he felt no release from his assault on the wall, he ripped a drawer from the dresser and smashed it on the ground. Clothes flew across the room and the wood cracked and splintered. Like his heart.

  “Zane!”

  But now that the floodgates had opened, he couldn’t stop. He lifted the drawer and smashed it down again, his aching muscles protesting the impact. “Do you want Viper, Evie? Is that it? Is that what this is all about?” He knew it was ludicrous. She had seen who Viper was, but he needed a reason, something he could change.

  “No, baby. You know that’s not true. Now come let me wash you and look after those cuts and bruises.”

  Smash. Smash. Smash. He tore the drawer apart. He loved her compassion and yet he hated it if it meant the last time he touched her he would be in pain.

  “I’ll shower with you so I can look after you properly.” She clasped the bottom of her T-shirt and tugged it over her head. Zane froze mid-strike, his primal instincts sharpening at the sight of her skin and her beautiful breasts encased in blue satin.

  “I don’t want your help.” He threw the remnants of the drawer across the room.

  “Too bad. And if you can’t do it for you, then do it for me.” Evie undid her bra and tossed it on the bed with her shirt. “It will make me … feel better.” She slid her jeans and panties over her hips and then kicked them off. Gloriously naked, quietly confident, undaunted by his rage, she turned into the bathroom. “Come on.”