“We don’t want any fucking apologies. And we don’t want anything the damn Brethren have to offer except Mad Dog’s head on a plate and the bodies of his men lying on the street.” Gunner slammed his coffee cup on the worn, wooden table. With his head shaved military short, and his body thick with muscle, he was perfectly suited for the position of sergeant-at-arms, responsible for keeping order in the club.
“Hear him out.” Dax put a cautioning hand on Gunner’s shoulder. “It’s not a done deal. Whatever Wolf proposed will be subject to a vote.”
“I vote no.” Gunner held out his hand, thumb pointed down. “Done. Let’s get going.”
“Viper approached Wolf about a Brethren patch-over.” Jagger held Gunner in place with the fierceness of his scowl. “Wolf says the club is undecided, and he personally doesn’t think it is a good fit. The Brethren have an election coming up. Wolf made it clear he would be interested in patching over to the Sinners if he wins.”
Cade stood so abruptly his chair toppled over, banging against the worn wooden floor. “You can’t seriously be considering patching in those motherfucking pieces of slime. We kicked them out of Conundrum for a reason.”
“I’m with Cade,” Shaggy said. “We lost good men in the war with the Brethren all those years ago. Good friends of mine. There’ll be bad blood if we let them into the club.”
“There won’t be a club if we don’t expand our numbers.” Irritation laced Jagger’s tone. “The Jacks are actively recruiting supporters, and if we want to maintain our status as the dominant MC in Montana, and put the fucking Jacks in their place, we need to expand our membership. A solid midsized club like the Brethren could tip the balance either way.”
“The Jacks and Brethren together would be hard to beat,” T-Rex said. “The Brethren have their own network of support clubs. Not big ones, but enough that we would be spread thin if we had to defend against them and the Jacks.”
Jagger rubbed his brow, a sure sign he was conflicted about his proposal. “We need the bodies, but we don’t need them all. We can pick and choose. Right now these discussions are just between Wolf and me, and the executive boards. The way I see it, as long as Wolf is tied up in negotiations with me, he won’t be negotiating with Viper. And since the election is still a few weeks away, we have a chance to investigate his MC and make a decision about whether any of his brothers are worthy of the Sinner name. None of the men who beat on Cade will wear our patch, guaranteed. And Mad Dog—”
“Dead,” Shaggy said.
“Not yet.” Jagger rubbed his brow again. “Wolf had a condition. He knows the value of his club, and he knows the advantage the Brethren numbers will give us over the Jacks. Mad Dog is his nephew. He wants our word he won’t be touched.”
“Mad Dog is JC’s boy?” Zane let out a strangled groan. “He’ll have a vendetta against us for killing his dad.”
“Mad Dog doesn’t wear our patch.” Jagger firmed his voice. “Ever. Wolf knows that. But he wants us to spare his life. In exchange for our mercy, he’s offered us a shipment of AK-47s, just in from Korea, that he has stored in a warehouse up in Whitefish.”
There were a few angry murmurs around the table but Jagger’s gaze fixed on Cade. “This is your call, brother. Your justice. Your vengeance. If you don’t agree, we turn Wolf down and we go after Mad Dog and his men as soon as this meeting ends.”
Cade took a deep, calming breath as he stared at the picture above Zane’s head, a half-naked woman leaning over a Harley Fat Boy, not unlike almost every other picture nailed to the walls. The meeting room had once been a dining room, but the fancy fixtures and fittings had been removed, and after it was painted, it was decorated in true biker form.
And a true biker lived by the code “Club First.”
Although he burned to jump on his bike and hunt down Mad Dog and his men, Wolf’s proposal could secure the club’s future, and end the war against the Jacks that had already claimed too many Sinner lives. He had to protect his club at any cost.
“I’ll waive my claim against Mad Dog for the club. He’s still bound by the restriction on any Brethren coming into our town so it’s not like he can rub it in our faces. But we have to take some action to address the Brethren’s disrespect or everyone will think we’re weak. Since Mad Dog’s men will never wear our patch, I say we hunt them down and give them a taste of Sinner justice.”
“All vote.” Jagger raised his hand, and rest of the board members followed suit.
“No one will forget the sacrifice you’ve made for the club,” Jagger said quietly. “And you have my word, as soon as the Brethren are patched into our club, and subject to Sinner law, Mad Dog will die.”
Cade swallowed past the lump in his throat. This is why he had joined the Sinners. Honor. Brotherhood. Loyalty. Men who would stand up for him. Men who always had his back.
His club.
His tribe.
“If the Jacks approached the Brethren, then they must be feeling vulnerable,” Cade said. “We should take advantage of the opportunity. If we weaken them enough while you’re negotiating terms with Wolf, we won’t even need the Brethren support.”
Jagger nodded his agreement. “We should hit them hard, and hit them now.”
“We’ll need more weapons to launch an offensive.” Gunner shoved a piece of paper across the table. “I got a lead on an arms shipment coming across the border heading for that Mafia boss in Helena, Franco Rizzoli. He hired the Jacks to run protection. If we ambush them, we’ll get fifty thousand dollars worth of weapons and take out some Jacks as a bonus.”
Jagger leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head. A man content. He hadn’t always been that way, but Arianne had smoothed out his edges. Cade had edges, too, but he was pretty damn sure no woman could smooth them out. Some wounds just couldn’t be healed.
“Gunner can organize the Rizzoli ambush.” Jagger pointed to each man as he assigned tasks. “Cade and Zane, you go up to Whitefish with the prospect and get Wolf’s AKs. Demon Spawn is our support club in the region. They can help out.”
“Sounds like we’re in for some good times.” Tall and dark, his skin lightly tanned, and his hair just brushing his shoulders, Zane stroked the goatee he had grown during his mysterious disappearance at the end of last summer. Although Cade wasn’t a fan of facial hair, Zane’s goatee had caused such a stir among the club’s women, Cade had almost considered growing one himself.
Cade snorted a laugh. “I didn’t know ‘good time’ was in your vocabulary.”
Reserved and fiercely private, Zane was the least fun guy Cade had ever known. He rarely drank or socialized at club functions, and Cade could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Zane with a woman.
“That’s ’cause my idea of a good time doesn’t involve hot tubs, booze, and multiple women in my bed,” Zane shot back.
Cade couldn’t refute that statement, but right now there was only one woman he wanted in his bed, and he’d put her in danger. “What about Dawn? Mad Dog threatened to drag her back to his clubhouse. He’s using their kids as leverage.”
Zane gave a derisory snort. “She’s a civilian. If she needs help, she can call the police.”
“Zane’s right,” Jagger said. “We can’t get involved in a marital dispute between a Brethren member and his old lady, especially if we’re negotiating terms of a patch-over. If you want to get involved in their affairs, you’ll have to do it without your cut.”
Without my cut? Cade barely processed the rest of Jagger’s words. He hadn’t gone anywhere without his colors since the day he first put them on. Hell, sometimes he slept in them. Jagger might as well ask him to cut off his right arm. His colors were everything—a symbol of a new life where he wasn’t burdened by the past, where the only person he had to look out for was himself, and where his brothers had his back. His cut was his creed: freedom, loyalty, and brotherhood.
Life.
* * *
“One thousand dollars?” Daw
n stared at Shelly-Ann aghast. “I don’t have one thousand dollars just sitting around the house. I’ve given you the money for this week. I have the girls for six hours.”
Maia and Tia clung to her, their fingers digging through her clothes. Tia’s soft whimpers sliced through a heart. Her girls weren’t stupid. They knew exactly what was going on and it twisted her heart that they understood blackmail at the tender age of seven.
“You got three hours with them unless you come up with the cash,” Shelly-Ann rasped from the window of her vehicle. She looked worse than she sounded today, her face pale and sallow, dark circles under her eyes, and her nose rimmed red. “You found a way to give me what I wanted before; you’ll do it again.”
Dawn pushed the girls behind her and out of sight of Shelly-Ann. “I have nothing left and you know it. I’m working three jobs. I sold my car. I’m renting my house. I buy nothing. I go nowhere. What do you need more money for?”
Shelly-Ann pressed her lips together. “Kids are expensive.”
“Not that expensive.” Taking a chance, Dawn leaned in and lowered her voice. “You’re in some kind of trouble, aren’t you? Don’t involve my girls, Shelly-Ann. They’re just children. It isn’t fair.”
“Life isn’t fucking fair,” Shelly-Ann spat out. “Thought you’d already figured that one out.”
“I’ll give you what I’ve got.” Dawn pulled out her purse and gave Shelly-Ann her tip money and pay from Banks Bar. “There’s six hundred there. I can ask my landlord for a month grace on my rent. But I can’t do it again next week.”
“Then you won’t see your kids next week.” Shelly-Ann snatched the money and stuffed it in her purse. “You’re lucky I got a massage and hair appointment booked for this afternoon. You got your six hours but you owe me. Next week I won’t let them outta the car till you make it good.”
Dawn sagged against a tree as soon as Shelly-Ann’s vehicle peeled out of the parking lot. For the longest time, Shelly-Ann had been content with the money Dawn and Jimmy paid her, but in the last few weeks her demands had increased, and Dawn had nothing left to give. What was going on? Between her and Jimmy, they had to be giving Shelly-Ann at least five thousand dollars a month.
“Mom. There’s a biker staring at us?” Maia tugged on Dawn’s arm and pointed across the playground to a lone biker in the parking lot. From this distance, Dawn couldn’t see the patch on his cut, but he didn’t look like any of the members of the Devil’s Brethren she knew. Still, given what Cade had said about Jimmy coming for her, she couldn’t take any chances.
“Let’s go to the concession stand.” Feigning calm, she slowed the swing and helped Tia down. She tried to make the most of every minute of her Sunday access visits with the girls. Now that the weather was warmer, they could venture outside again, and the park was their favorite place to play.
“He’s getting off his bike.” Tia’s voice dropped to a whisper and she plastered herself against Dawn’s side.
“What if it’s Jimmy?” Maia’s small face paled. “What if he wants to hurt us or take us away?”
“I won’t let that happen.” She gave Tia a squeeze and reached for Maia’s hand, wondering if they believed her. After all, she had effectively let Jimmy take them away last year, albeit through the courts, and she hadn’t been able to stop him from hitting Tia …
Stop. She slammed a mental wall down, blocking out all the feelings of despair, frustration, and self-doubt that had plagued her since she lost custody of the girls. That road led right back to Jimmy and a loss of the self-worth that she had rebuilt, brick by brick, over the three years since she left him. No one could have foreseen how he would use the courts against her, or that he had the wherewithal to fabricate evidence and pay off a judge. If she couldn’t stay strong and believe in herself, she would never get them back.
The biker drew closer, eating up the distance between them with easy strides of his long, lean legs. Tia whimpered. Shy and withdrawn as a result of Jimmy’s abuse, Tia was afraid of strangers and reluctant to talk outside her close circle of friends and family. The school counselor had assured Dawn that over time, in a stable and loving environment, Tia would eventually recover. And in the two happy years they’d had together after leaving Jimmy, Tia had come out of her shell.
And then it all came crashing down.
Her heart kicked up a notch as the biker drew closer, passing through the shade of the massive chestnut trees that separated the playground from the playing fields, but damned if she would run and show the children her fear. There were at least thirty other caregivers in the playground, along with their children. Even Jimmy wouldn’t try anything in front of so many witnesses.
“Mom. He’s waving.” Always the brave one, Maia took a step forward. She hadn’t emerged from their time with Jimmy unscathed—she still suffered from nightmares—but she had been the most successful at putting the bad times behind her. Dawn admired her resilience and optimism. No matter how bad things got, Maia could always make her smile.
“I know him.” Maia’s voice rose in pitch. “That’s the biker who saved us on the street. The one who scared Jimmy away.”
Dawn studied the biker as he pulled the bandanna from his hair, revealing a head of slightly damp, golden curls. Her gaze traveled down over his broad shoulders to his toned pecs and the ripples of his abs beneath his tight black T-shirt. He bent slightly to the side, one hand against his ribs, almost as if he was … injured.
Cade.
Her heart rate slowed and she released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Then her heart kicked up again, for an entirely different reason. “Yes, you’re right. He’s a … friend. He won’t hurt us.” The latter she said for Tia’s benefit, but her daughter was already behind her, face pressed against Dawn’s back as if she could make the biker disappear just by erasing the sight of him.
He stopped a few feet away, and Dawn tensed. “Cade. What are you doing here?”
“Checking up on you. I gotta go out of town, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay before I left.”
He glanced down at Maia, and then at Tia, still pressed against her side. “Hello, lovely ladies. I hope you haven’t run in front of any more trucks.”
“Did you catch Jimmy? Did he do that to your face?” Maia tilted her head to the side and studied Cade’s bruises. He looked even worse than he had when he’d stopped by Dawn’s apartment on Thursday night, the bruises now a greenish yellow and covering most of his face. He’d removed the bandages from his forehead and cheeks, and the cuts were dark and crusted. No doubt, they would leave scars. And yet they only added to his rugged charm.
“Unfortunately, he caught me first.” Cade bent down, grimacing in pain and dropped to one knee in front of her. “But I’m pretty damn sure he looks worse than me today. Which twin are you?”
“Maia. I do the talking. Sometimes I get in trouble for talking too much. Mrs. Walker made me stay in for recess because she gave me three warnings and I forgot. Tia’s the quiet one, but she’s smarter than me and does more thinking. She likes purple. I like pink.”
He gently lifted her hand and gave it a shake. “Nice to see you again, Maia-who-likes-pink. Musta been important stuff you were saying to forget to follow the rules.”
She nodded, her face grave. “It was.”
Cade leaned to the side, trying to catch Tia’s gaze. “And this must be Tia.”
Tia tightened her grip and turned her face away. Dawn patted the tiny hand on her stomach.
“It’s okay. Cade’s a good biker.”
“He’s still a biker,” Maia said, withdrawing her hand from Cade’s grasp. “And bikers are bad.”
“Maia…”
“It’s okay.” Cade pushed himself to his feet. “I’m guessing living with Jimmy wasn’t all flowers and sunshine.”
“There were flowers.” Maia’s gaze dropped and she toed the grass underfoot. “He bought flowers sometimes after he hit—”
“Maia.” Dawn’s chee
ks heated and she bent down and lowered her voice. “We don’t talk about that. Especially not to people we don’t know. That time is gone. We live in the now.”
Maia’s bottom lip trembled. “I thought he’d feel better if he knew that Jimmy hurts everyone.”
“Not for fucking long,” Cade muttered.
“Cade!”
“He swore.” Maia gave him an assessing look. “Just like Jimmy. And he wears the same clothes as Jimmy. But he has a nice face. Jimmy has a mean face.”
Unabashed, Cade twisted his lips to the side. “I’m nothing like Jimmy. First, I’m much better looking. Second, I save the swearing for special occasions. And third, I’ll bet he never bought you ice cream.” He looked to Dawn for confirmation. “If that’s okay with your mom.”
“Bribery. Very nice.” Dawn laughed and sent the girls to the concession stand to choose their flavors, pushing all thoughts about Shelly-Ann to the back of her mind. “I thought you’d scare the girls away in your leathers and chains.”
He gave her a cocky grin and placed a hand on her lower back, guiding her along the path. “What can I say? I have a way with the ladies no matter how old they are.”
“You have a way of finding ladies, too. How did you know where we were?” His hand was warm against her back, and she tried to ignore the curious glances of the other parents in the park. As far as her neighbors knew, she was a conservative, hardworking single mom with shared custody of her kids and no connection to unsavory biker types who looked sinfully good in worn, low-rise jeans.
“Drove by the park on my way to your house and saw Jimmy’s sister dropping the girls off. Decided to make sure she wasn’t giving you a hard time.”
Warmth pooled in her belly, and for a moment she considered sharing her concerns about Shelly-Ann. But her business wasn’t his business, and it wasn’t like he could help. “We’re doing fine. Thanks for checking up on us. I’m glad to see you’re up and about.”
His fingers tightened around her waist, sending a delicious tingle up her spine. “That’s ’cause I had a good doctor. Although after seeing you in those little shorts, I had an ache that just wouldn’t go away.”
Beyond the Cut Page 5