The Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club, Books 1-3

by Sarah Castille

  “I won’t.” A sad smile tugged the corner of her lips as she watched them go, walking with the same gait, Ty’s small hand clasped tight in Zane’s palm. “I don’t think I could even if I tried. I was so worried that Zane wouldn’t want to be involved in his life, but I have a feeling he would follow Ty no matter where we went. He said he would hand in his cut to be with us … leave the life…”

  “Speaking of which…” Connie pointed to the floor. “Do you still want to find out about the mysterious woman in the dungeon? There’s nobody downstairs right now.”

  Evie clenched her hands by her side. Did she want to go down there? Did she really want to know? She could just ask Zane, but it would bring up all the issues and emotions again. And yet woman’s life could be at stake. After confronting Jagger, feeling the power of her anger, she wasn’t as afraid of the Sinners as she had been before. She wasn’t a victim. If she was even going to consider being part of this world, she needed to understand it. And if they were doing something that was morally wrong, if they were hurting innocent people, she needed to know that, too.

  She reached out, gave Connie’s hand a squeeze. “I need you to run interference. I’ll just be five minutes.”

  Connie raced outside and Evie headed into the kitchen and then down the stairs to the basement. The lights were still on, illuminating the open space. She skirted around the pool table, taking care not to knock over the beer bottles lining the edges and the ashtrays full of butts. Smoke lingered in the air, and the floor was awash with hoodies, pizza boxes and crumpled newspapers.

  Heart thudding, she made her way to the far end of the game room and knocked on a metal door beside a long, dark hallway. “Hello?” She waited and knocked again.

  No answer.

  She moved down to the second door and knocked, speaking louder this time. “Hello? Is anyone in there?”

  “Who’s that?”

  Evie startled at the sound of a woman’s voice and fought back a wave of nausea.

  “Evie. My name is Evie. Are you okay?”

  She heard the scrape of iron on concrete, the thud of feet, and then the woman’s voice, louder now.

  “Evie? You a sweet butt? House mama?” She had a harsh voice, grating and hard. “Did they send you to look after me in case I’m on the rag or PMSing or some other woman thing that’ll scare the shit out of them?”

  “No. I’m just … visiting.”

  The woman barked a laugh. “Visiting? This ain’t no tourist attraction. You coming in?”

  “No. I can’t.” She drew in a ragged breath. “What’s your name? Did they hurt you?”

  Silence. And then the woman’s voice softened. “I’m Doreen. What is this? Why are you here?”

  “I just…” Why was she here? “I heard they had a woman in the dungeon and I wanted to know if it was true, and maybe, I thought I could get you out.”

  “Ah.” Doreen gave a heavy sigh. “You’re not part of the MC, are you?”

  “No.”

  “Didn’t think so. You sound like a good person. You got a nice voice, sweet and soft. Kinda innocent like. You got kids Evie?”

  “Yes. I have boy. He’s eight years old.”

  Doreen gave a little sob. “Me too. I got a little boy. He’s just learning to walk. I miss him something fierce.”

  Evie’s heart squeezed in her chest. “Who’s looking after him?”

  “He lives with my mom. Viper killed his dad. I came to the morgue in Conundrum to see my Axle one last time. That’s when the Sinners took me.”

  “Which Sinner?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, but the woman heard her.

  “The dark one with the long hair is the one who caught me. I think his name is Zane.”

  Evie covered her mouth to stifle her moan.

  “They thought Viper would pay to get me back ’cause I was wearing his old lady cut,” Doreen continued. “But I told ‘em, Viper doesn’t care about me. He told me that the first time he threw me on his bed. Told me I was nothing but a place for his dick.”

  “Oh, God.” She sucked in a sharp breath. “I’ll do everything I can to get you out of here. I’ll call the police…”

  “No.” Doreen barked the word so loud Evie stepped back from the door. “This is biker business. You don’t involve the cops or everyone goes down. You gotta find another way.”

  Evie heard footsteps on the stairs, but there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. And dammit someone had to answer for this. She stiffened her spine, folded her arms, and glared when Arianne walked into the room.

  “What are you doing down here?”

  She opened her mouth to lie, but what was the point? She was standing right outside the door and Arianne would have heard her talking. “There’s a woman in that room.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Evie took a step toward Arianne. “We have to get her out of there.”

  “You just don’t get it, do you?” Arianne gestured her away from door, keeping her voice low. “Doreen knew the risks involved if she crossed the border into Conundrum. Just like Zane knew the risks of disobeying Jagger. They both got punished the biker way, although Doreen wasn’t hurt because Jagger doesn’t allow violence toward women, and women usually. aren’t involved in biker business. This was an exception.”

  “She’s imprisoned. And away from her son. That’s hurting her.”

  Arianne rolled her eyes. “She’s a Black Jack old lady so it’s hard to know how much she says is lies and how much is the truth. But one thing I know for sure, Viper didn’t force that cut on her. The only way to get Viper’s old lady cut is to get rid of the woman wearing it and be stronger than the next woman who wants it. Viper thinks it’s amusing to watch them fight over him. Doreen is a hard woman. She’s ruthless, conniving, and vicious. She injured two of the junior patch who were sent down to bring her food, and that’s with her hands tied.” Her lips curled into a grin, and she lowered her voice to a whisper. “You want a little taste? Walk up the stairs really loud then come down again real quiet.”

  Evie did as she asked and returned to Arianne’s side. Arianne put a finger to her lips. “Yo, Doreen.” She bashed her fist on the door. “She’s gone, so don’t waste your breath with the sob stories. We both know what goes on in the clubhouse. And guess what? Your ass is mine next time Jagger wants some intel, and I’m no softie like the boys. I know where to stick it so it hurts.”

  “Fuck off you fucking bitch.” Doreen shrieked. “The minute I get outta here, I’m coming for you. It’s your face I’m gonna cut up first. I’m gonna make it so Jagger gets fucking sick every time he looks at you. Then I’m going after the dark one who snatched me. It’ll be a slice and dice. This fucking clubhouse is gonna run red with Sinner blood. I’m saving Jagger for last. He’ll be a present for Viper. I’ll deliver him all wrapped up in a bow made of your sweet little girl’s hair.”

  “Our world,” Arianne said quietly. She gestured Evie toward the stairs. “You have to be strong to survive. But we do have rules and a code. And we have our own rough brand of justice.”

  Still shaken by Doreen’s outburst, Evie paused on the stairs. “But how do people with kids handle this kind of life?”

  “You should talk to Dawn, or Dax’s old lady, Sandy,” she said. “Or any of the other old ladies. Most of them choose to keep their family life separate from the club. And that’s fine. There are no rules for old ladies. It’s whatever works for them. And yeah, sometimes their men come home battered, bruised, and broken, but that happens to civilians, too. Boxers, fighters, stuntmen … they all put themselves in danger. The old ladies patch them up, give them heck, and then love them until they do it again. It’s the risk we take to live this life. It’s what we do to survive. But it’s a life of freedom, honor, loyalty, and brotherhood; a life where you make the rules.”

  “You love this life.”

  Arianne’s face softened. “Yes, I do. Although I almost gave it up to get away from Viper. But then I met Jagger, and I found
a way to make it work for me. That’s the thing about love. It makes the impossible possible. And it won’t be denied.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  If you take it apart, and you can’t put it back together, don’t panic. Walk away, clear your head, then start again.

  —SINNER’S TRIBE MOTORCYCLE REPAIR MANUAL

  Evie drove up to the Sinner clubhouse and parked outside. She hadn’t been back for over a week, and she hoped the impromptu visit didn’t ruffle any feathers. Although Zane had come by Connie’s place several times to visit Ty, her son wanted to spend more time with his dad. Since they were passing by the clubhouse on their way home from a day in the mountains, she’d agreed to a brief stop to see if he was around when she couldn’t get in touch by phone.

  She waved to Shooter and Tank, tinkering with their bikes out front, and turned off the Sinner SUV Zane had insisted she keep as a matter of safety. The raid on the Black Jack clubhouse had been delayed because of the increased presence of the ATF in Conundrum, drawn by the spate of fires and the explosion at the coffee shop. For now, everyone had to lay low, although Zane had gone scouting around the Black Jack clubhouse, this time with executive board approval, to try and figure out if they could try to get T-Rex out with a two- or three-man operation.

  “Can I get out, mom?” Ty didn’t wait for her answer, but pushed open the door. Connie jumped out after him and they headed over to talk to Tank who they hadn’t seen since returning to the safe house.

  Shortly after moving in with Connie and trying to get back to her regular life, Evie received her first lesson about keeping the police out of biker business. The morning after contacting the police to report her car stolen, she’d awoken to find her vehicle burned out and wrapped around a street light beside Connie’s driveway with the Black Jack initials spray painted on the remains. The Sinners had arrived with a flatbed truck to take it away and Connie, Ty, and Evie were moved back to the safe house above Sparky’s shop.

  Concerned about Evie’s biker clients ratting her out to the Jacks, Jagger had convinced her to hold back on reopening her business in a new location. As a result, she’d kept herself busy painting Sinner bikes, talking to insurance adjusters, and trying to find a new home for her business from inside Sparky’s shop. With too much time on her hands, and after hitting her quota of video games with Ty, she’d gone through her scrapbooks and reminisced about the time she and Zane had spent together.

  They didn’t talk now, except about Ty, and she missed him so much she ached. Although she was still wary about the life he led, now that she’d had some time to think, she was beginning to warm to the idea that the Sinners weren’t all bad. But she’d hurt Zane by walking away and she didn’t know how to mend the rift between them.

  “He’s not here.” Ty ran toward her as she rounded the vehicle, Tank in tow. “Tank says he’s gone away.”

  Usually the first with a smile, Tank shifted his feet and looked away. “Club business. Doesn’t get shared with old ladies or civilians.” He held out his hand to Ty and raised an inquiring eyebrow. “You wanna shoot some hoops before you head out? I gotta escort a lady to a car, then I can meet you out back.”

  Evie nodded at Ty’s silent query and watched him race across the lawn.

  “How do the old ladies do it?” she asked Connie. “If club business isn’t shared with old ladies, then they never know what’s going to happen when the brothers go out. Maybe they’re just going for a drink, or maybe it’s a shootout, or a suicidal raid on the Black Jack clubhouse. I couldn’t deal with that uncertainty. I’d be an emotional wreck. And what if someone came after me or Ty when we were alone? I’m not like Arianne. I couldn’t stab or shoot anyone.”

  “Um … hello.” Connie waved a hand in front of Evie’s face. “You stabbed Vipe when he was…” She choked on her words. “Hurting Bill. And if you’d had a knife when you found out Jagger was the one who beat the shit out of Zane, I have no doubt you would have used it. You didn’t faint or collapse on the floor weeping like some kinda drama queen.”

  Connie brushed back her hair. She’d worn a tank top and a cute pair of very short shorts to go hiking in the unseasonably warm weather and Tank hadn’t given her a second look. Evie wondered if he’d bowed out because of Sparky.

  “I’ve never been the drama queen type.”

  Connie laughed. “It sounds like you’re not worried anymore about the red patches on his cut.”

  “I don’t think he does that part of it for kicks. At heart, he’s still the same Zane.”

  “I don’t think any of them like that part.” Connie tugged at her top when Tank waved from the porch. “Far as I can tell, they’re pretty decent guys, except for Shaggy, Shooter, and a couple of the others who are certifiably wacko.”

  Tank and Hacker emerged from the clubhouse holding a blond woman between them.

  “Who’s that?” Connie gave her a nudge. “She looks spitting mad.”

  “Get your fucking paws off me,” the woman snarled as they drew near. “Your damn pathetic clubhouse is in the middle of fucking nowhere. It’s not like I can run away.”

  Evie sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s Doreen, the woman from the dungeon. They must be letting her go.”

  Doreen’s hair was a disheveled mess of blond curls, and her long, angular face was pale and wan. Although taller than both Evie and Connie, her thin frame gave her an almost skeletal appearance save for her generous, perfectly-shaped breasts, which Evie doubted were real.

  “I’d let her go, too with a mouth like that,” Connie said. “She puts the Sinners to shame, and since I’ve been hanging around with them, I have to say that’s no easy feat.”

  They stood aside as Shooter drove up in a black Chrysler 300C. He left it running and raced around to open the passenger door for Doreen.

  “What the fuck is this?” Doreen sneered at Connie and Evie. “A good-bye party from the girl scouts?”

  “I’m Evie. I talked to you downstairs.”

  Doreen stared at her for a long moment, and then she tilted her head to the side. “You got red hair. And your name … Evie. Is that short for something?”

  “Evangeline.”

  Doreen’s eyes widened and the look she gave Evie was cold, calculating. “You’re the one Viper wants. No one could figure it out but now I get it. He wants a taste of the other side. Innocence. Soft and sweet. Tell me, little kitten, when he pets your widdle pussy do you purr?”

  Evie recoiled, her nose wrinkling in disgust. Doreen laughed and moved toward Shooter, standing by the open door.

  “Aren’t you the looker?” She leaned up, her breasts brushing against his chest. “Lucky me. Jagger sent the young blood to take me home. A couple of junior patch and you just gotta be a prospect. Even if it wasn’t written on your cut, I can smell the newness on you.”

  Shooter narrowed his eyes. “Back off, bitch.”

  Evie had never seen anyone move as fast, but before Shooter could push her away, Doreen yanked one of his weapons from its holster, spun, and held it to Evie’s head.

  “Evie!” Connie took a step forward as Hacker and Tank drew their weapons. Doreen pushed Evie in front of her, using her as a shield.

  “Don’t come any closer or I’ll off the little kitten right here, right now. Serves Jagger right for sending a buncha boys to do a man’s job.” She gestured to Connie and tipped her chin at the 300C. “Open the passenger door.”

  “She has a little boy,” Connie said. “Why don’t you take me?”

  “I got a little boy, too, and the Sinners threw me in the fucking dungeon. Kids aren’t part of this.” Doreen ushered Evie into the vehicle, making her climb over the center console to the driver’s seat, seemingly oblivious to the guns trained on her back.

  “You’re the one Viper wants,” she said, sliding into the passenger seat beside Evie. “And I’m gonna give you to him all wrapped up with a pretty little bow.”

  * * *

  Zane had always wanted to destroy a police car. H
owever, the crunch of glass under his bat, although supremely satisfying, didn’t solve the bigger problem. T-Rex wasn’t free.

  “What. The. Fuck?” He slammed the bat on the hood of Benson’s vehicle over and over again until Jagger pulled him away and walked him a few feet down the dirt road near the Black Jack clubhouse.

  He was losing it. Big time. But a week of seeing Evie and not being able to touch her, brief conversations about Ty and nothing else, and the possibility of a future limited by the damn warrant over his head, which meant a civilian life with her wasn’t an option, had finally taken their toll. Deputy Benson was damn lucky it was only the car bearing the brunt of Zane’s frustration. After all, he’d just screwed up big-time.

  “I told you where the dungeon was.” Zane hefted the bat, and scowled at Benson. “You were supposed to tip off the ATF then go in with our ATF mole.”

  Benson had the good grace to look uncomfortable. “I was there. And I still can’t believe Jagger pulled in that favor. Having someone in the ATF in your pocket could have saved you from some real deep shit more than once.”

  Wrenching himself out of Jagger’s grasp, Zane stalked across the road where he and a handful of brothers had been hiding, expecting Benson to return with T-Rex. He grabbed Benson by the collar. “You saying T-Rex isn’t worth a favor?”

  “Of course not.” Benson struggled to free himself from Zane’s grip. “But it was a waste of a favor because Viper was ready for them. Someone must have tipped him off. The place was virtually empty. There were only a handful of bikes in the parking lot, and I’m pretty sure if the Black Jacks’ attorney hadn’t made mincemeat out of the warrant, they wouldn’t have found any guns or drugs.”

  “They woulda found fucking T-Rex,” Zane spat out. “You should have done something. Fucking waste of a mark.”

  “Easy, brother.” Jagger loosened Zane’s grip on Benson’s neck. “We’ll find another way.”

  Zane flung the bat across the grass bordering the road. “I should’ve just gone on my own. Snuck in while everyone was distracted. I coulda been in and outta there with T-Rex by now.”