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

by Sarah Castille

  He heard the rumble of trucks in the distance. Jagger looked up and smiled. “Trucks are here. Let’s roll.”

  Let’s roll? Zane released Evie and cut Jagger off from his bike, making one last effort to head off imminent disaster. “When did we start involving women and kids in club business?”

  “Evie wants to do this, brother.” Jagger put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “And since she’s not your old lady, I gotta respect her wishes.”

  Evie’s eyes sparkled and she flashed Zane a grin. “I know you’ll be there to catch me. You always are.”

  Christ. How could he refuse her when she looked at him like that? The answer came in a heartbeat: he never could.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Sometimes, no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, things just won’t go according to plan.

  —SINNER’S TRIBE MOTORCYCLE REPAIR MANUAL

  “I got a text from Hacker. The electric current is off.” Zane grabbed a pair of wire cutters and joined Cade at the fence.

  “How long you figure we got?” Cade worked efficiently cutting from the bottom, while Zane worked from the top.

  “Depends how long Evie can keep them talking.”

  Cade stopped to wipe his brow. “She’s one hell of a woman. I can see why you couldn’t forget her all those years. She’s got the kind of inner strength that makes for a good old lady.”

  “Yeah.” But did he want her as an old lady if it meant she was at risk of being kidnapped, hurt or even killed? She had a nice normal civilian life in her little white house with the white picket fence on the shady street with kids playing outside, people walking their dogs …

  Something niggled at the back of Zane’s mind. “Where are the dogs? They’ve got four dogs. Big ones. They were here every time I came to do surveillance.”

  “Maybe they took them when they got the tip about the ATF.”

  Zane stood and scanned the clubhouse grounds. “And the guards? Usually they had at least five guards patrolling the fence. Benson said they’d left the guards behind.” The skin on the back of his neck prickled and he looked over at the shed where he’d seen the Jacks’ heavy artillery. “Gimme your binoculars.”

  “We’re running out of time.” Cade pushed back the wire. “If we’re gonna save T-Rex, we have to go. We still have to get through the door.”

  Zane ran his hand through his hair. “Something’s wrong. It’s all too convenient. The Jacks disappearing, the botched ATF raid … Do you think they know we’ve got someone inside the sheriff’s office? Are they playing us?”

  Cade stepped through the fence. “Zane. C’mon man. We got one chance to get…”

  Cade’s voice trailed off when a whistling sound filled the air. And then the world exploded in front of them, grass and dirt flying up on the other side of the fence.

  Ambush. Where the fuck were the scouts?

  Zane flew back, landing hard. He scrambled to his feet and spotted Cade, semiconscious, on the other side of the fence. In the distance, he heard the sound of gunfire.

  Evie! He was supposed to be there to keep her safe. Catch her if she fell.

  But he couldn’t leave Cade.

  Small explosions peppered the ground around the clubhouse. Sons of bitches knew what they were after, and Cade was exposed. Zane pushed himself up and stepped through the fence, then squatted beside Cade.

  “Can you walk, brother?”

  “Must have hit my head.” Cade staggered to his feet. “Everything’s kinda blurry.”

  “We need to get you out of here.” He angled up under Cade’s shoulder and helped him through the fence, then half-walked, half-dragged him away from the range of fire and into a small copse of trees. He settled Cade against a rock and called the clubhouse. After explaining the situation to Shaggy, he gave their location and arranged a pickup for Cade, as well as reinforcements and vans to retrieve damaged bikes.

  Gunshots rang through the forest and adrenaline coursed through his body. “We gotta get moving. You okay?”

  “Just stunned.” Cade put his hand to his head and it came away covered in blood. “Maybe a scrape or two.” He dug his phone from his pocket. “Call Dawn.”

  “Don’t need to call her.” He brushed Cade’s hand away. “We’ll get you to the road for a pickup. You can call her then.”

  “Zane…” Cade’s voice tightened and he keened to the side. “Call her.”

  Zane gritted his teeth and fought back a wave of panic. Cade needed him to be strong, just as he’d been strong for Jagger, and for Evie every time she took a risk. “I don’t have time to be calling old ladies. I gotta get you to the road and go back for…”

  “Evie.” Cade waved him away. “I know it’s killing you to be here. You go. Leave me.”

  “Christ. Get the fuck up. We’re less than a quarter mile from the road. We can make it. If I left you behind, Jagger would make that beating I took the other day feel like a hug after he got through with me.” Fear and anger gave him the strength to take Cade’s weight as they made the slow, agonizing walk through the bush to the road.

  “She’ll be alright,” Cade said. “She was in the vehicle, and she stays cool under pressure. The first shot and she would have been out of there.”

  Zane grunted his response. He couldn’t talk. Couldn’t think. His body was wired, primed to find Evie as soon as Cade was safe.

  He could only hope someone had been there to catch her.

  * * *

  Evie startled awake, blinking to clear her vision. She jerked but couldn’t move with the seat belt tight around her. What had happened? One minute she was driving away from the gate after dropping off Doreen, then she heard gunfire, lost control of her vehicle, spun around, and then …

  Ah. The air bag had deployed. No wonder she felt like someone had just punched her in the face.

  Hands shaking, she unclipped the seatbelt and pushed open the door. Her vehicle rested sideways on the road, the passenger door up against a tree. She slid past the air bag and stepped out to check the damage. With the front tire was in pieces—shot out, she guessed—it was no wonder she’d lost control.

  Smoke billowed around her, giving the scene an almost dreamlike quality. She felt light, almost weightless as she wandered down the road, not sure where she should go. Ahead, the club house burned bright, a white truck embedded in one wall, engulfed in flames. The thick, acrid smoke burned her lungs and she coughed, tried to breathe into her sleeve.

  Where was everyone? Her foot hit something and she stumbled, fell. She bent down, recognized the long blond hair.

  “Doreen?” She shook Doreen gently, felt for a pulse. But when she patted her down, blood seeped through Doreen’s clothes.

  She fell back with a gasp.

  “Evie!” Zane’s voice rang out in the stillness.

  “Zane. Over here. I need help.”

  Zane emerged from the smoke, ran towards her. Then he froze, his face contorting in horror.

  “Help me. She’s not breathing.”

  Still, he didn’t move.

  “What?” She looked back over her shoulder, pushed herself to her feet. “What’s wrong? Is someone behind me?”

  “You.”

  Evie put her hand to her face. It came away sticky and red. She touched her nose, winced in pain.

  “The air bag went off.” Her vision blurred and a wave of nausea gripped her stomach. “I must have a nosebleed.”

  Zane frowned, shook his head. His mouth opened but she couldn’t make out his words. Evie took a step forward, and then she lost her footing and fell into the smoke.

  * * *

  “She gonna be okay?”

  Zane nodded from the chair beside his bed as Jagger closed the door behind him. Evie had been asleep most of the day, and save for checking in on Ty and putting him to bed in a spare room in the clubhouse, Zane hadn’t left her side.

  “Yeah. She’s bruised up from the air bag hitting her face, and she had a nosebleed and a minor concussion.
Took her to the hospital and they said she’d be okay. Doc suggested we stay at the clubhouse since he’ll be here all night fixing up the brothers and he could check in on her. How’s everyone doing?”

  Jagger settled on the edge of dresser. His face was lined and worn, and he still hadn’t changed out of his blood-soaked clothes after helping treat all the brothers who had been injured in the raid. “Lots of casualties, but everyone made it out alive.”

  “Thank fuck. What happened?”

  Jagger scrubbed his hands over his face. “They were hiding out in the hills around the clubhouse. Not sure if they were still hiding from the ATF, or if they knew we were coming, but our scouts missed them. They started shooting just after Evie dropped off Doreen. Looks like they hit her tire and she lost control of her vehicle. Benson thought that was the signal to go so he started the truck, drew their attention. They got him through the window, hit his arm, and he couldn’t get it out of gear. The truck crashed through the gate and they kept shooting at it, triggered an explosion. Damaged the building pretty bad. Took out three Jacks. Benson made it out in time. But T-Rex…”

  “He didn’t make it?”

  “Sparky and Gunner had gone around to help you with T-Rex. When they didn’t see you, they went through the hole you’d cut in the fence while the Jacks were distracted by the truck. Gun broke the lock on the door to the dungeon. They found…” Jagger choked on his words. “A body. Not breathing. No pulse. They were pretty sure it was T-Rex although his face was so beaten it was unrecognizable, and it was dark. Same color hair though, same size, and Mario said he was in there. They couldn’t find his cut, but they found this.” He held up the medallion T-Rex had always worn around his neck—gift from Tank when T-Rex been patched into the club, along with a special blade.

  Zane’s heart squeezed in his chest. “Fuck.”

  “They couldn’t get him out.” Jagger’s voice tightened and he looked away. “They tried … but we’d spotted more Jacks on the way. I couldn’t lose them, too. When they called me, I told them to get out of there. He was dead. There wasn’t anything we could do for him.”

  Zane felt the news like a fist in his gut. T-Rex had died to save his Evie. It was a debt he could never repay.

  “I don’t want this life for her, Jag.” He reached over, threaded his fingers through hers. “I want her to have the kind of life she had before. Safe. Peaceful. I can’t give her that when I’m wearing this cut, and I can’t give it to her as a civilian with a damn warrant hanging over my head.”

  “You’d give up the life?” Jagger rubbed his thumb absently over the Sinner’s skull ring on his finger—the president’s mark.

  “I’d give up anything for her.”

  Jagger let out a long, ragged breath. “She wouldn’t want that. I don’t want it. Before you do anything drastic, you need to talk to her about it first.”

  Jagger was right. Evie wouldn’t want him to give up his cut. But he was wrong about the talking. Zane had a plan. He’d already talked to Richard, the club attorney, and worked out the details. If he stayed, Evie might talk him out of it. If he left, it would be done and they could move on.

  “I want to give her the option.” He scraped a hand through his hair, and it came away black with soot from the fire. “As long as I’m a wanted man, I can’t give them a normal life. And I’ll always be looking over my shoulder, waiting for the day Viper or someone like him goes to the cops. But it’s not just that. I’ve lived my whole life in hiding. I’ve lived in the shadows. Evie brought me to the light. I don’t want to hide anymore. I want the truth to come out. The truth about what happened the night I left Stanton. The truth about how I feel.”

  He shrugged off his cut, folded it carefully, and handed it to Jagger. “I talked to Richard. He says if I go up to Stanton and turn myself in they’ll process me and stick me in the slammer for a coupla days, maybe a week. He’ll be there for the interview and to arrange bail.”

  “Fuck.” Jagger scrubbed his hands over his face. “Don’t do this. You know we’ll protect you.”

  “I gotta do it, Jag. It’s the only way.”

  “The club will bail you out then,” Jagger said. “Whatever the cost.”

  Zane nodded his appreciation. “Richard said the bail conditions usually include not associating with known felons or criminal organizations. I’m guessing he means the club. I’ll be there for T-Rex’s funeral unless something goes wrong, but I’ll stay away from the brothers. He says our big chance is the preliminary hearing where we try to show the judge there’s not enough evidence to go to trial. Best-case scenario, I walk. Worst-case scenario, I spend the next twenty years in jail for something I didn’t do.”

  “That won’t happen. If it gets to that we’ll break you out.”

  Zane laughed. “I thought you were gonna say you’d hire a better lawyer. But, yeah, break me out. I’d go fucking crazy if I had to spend twenty years staring at the same four walls. Grand gestures are only good if there’s someone to appreciate them.”

  “She might not take you back if you leave her again,” Jagger warned.

  Emotion welled up in Zane’s throat. “This time I’m not leaving her alone or unprotected. And this time I’m not running away. I’m trying to come home. Make sure she understands that.”

  He brushed his lips over Evie’s cheek and then he and Jagger clasped shoulders. “Look after her and Ty until I get back.”

  “Like they were my very own.”

  Zane stood in the doorway and drank in the sight of Evie, her hair fanned over the pillow, her face restful in sleep.

  After all he’d been through, he had come full circle. He loved her. And yet he had to leave her again.

  TWENTY-THREE

  If your repair doesn’t work, don’t give up, Go back to the beginning and start again.

  —SINNER’S TRIBE MOTORCYCLE REPAIR MANUAL

  Evie squeezed Connie’s hand as the biker procession entered the cemetery. Although there was no body to bury, the Sinners had erected a tombstone in their dedicated plot at the Conundrum Cemetery and invited support clubs and local friendlies to honor T-Rex’s memory. T-Rex’s parents had declined the invitation to attend the ceremony, saying that T-Rex had been dead to them for many years and they had already mourned his passing. Jagger had smashed the phone after that conversation and added T-Rex’s family to his blacklist, to be punished at a later date.

  Almost two hundred bikers converged on the cemetery, a testament to T-Rex’s popularity, not just in the club, but in the biker community. Of course, politics factored into who showed and who didn’t, which clubs sent presidents or VPs and which sent junior patch. All duly noted, of course, by Tank who had been assigned secretarial duty for the day and stood with Evie and Connie translating biker funeral customs into civilian terms so they could understand what was going on.

  “Support clubs gotta send at least two board members and two junior patch,” he said, as he snapped pictures with his phone. “I’ll be making a list to give to Jagger and if anyone didn’t show, he’ll send Gunner out with a team to put them in their place.”

  “I like that idea.” Connie pulled a collapsible umbrella from her purse and shook it out under the tree where they’d been standing for the last ten minutes. They had chosen a position on a small rise near the edge of the cemetery—close enough to hear, but far enough away that their civilian presence would not offend the biker gathering. “If I die, I want you and Evie to go beat up any of my friends who don’t show for the funeral. Especially Gene. So he regrets never making a move before he had the chance.”

  Tank lowered his camera. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re mine. Gene doesn’t touch you. And after I had words with Sparky, he won’t be touching you either. No one touches you. Except me.” He cupped his hand behind her head and pulled her in for a hard, possessive kiss.

  “This is why I like bikers,” Connie said in a breathy voice after he released her. “The whole possessive caveman thing is very hot. You s
hould see what he does if I show any interest in the guys at the bar.”

  Evie tried, but failed to smile. T-Rex’s funeral had reopened the black hole in her chest that she hadn’t managed to heal since he’d sacrificed himself to save her. She felt guilty moving on with her life, guilty for every laugh, because T-Rex would never laugh again. And she had no one to share her grief. She’d awoken the morning after the big raid with a splitting headache, and no Zane.

  That had been two weeks ago.

  Despite her best efforts and the worst of her threats, she had been unable to convince Jagger to tell her where Zane had gone or how long he would be away. However, he had helped her find a small warehouse south of town big enough for a new shop and garage, and a small rental house only a ten-minute drive from Ty’s school. Evie hadn’t seen any Jacks lurking around, and she hadn’t heard anything from Viper. She figured he had better things to do with his time now that he had a clubhouse to rebuild and, no doubt, revenge to plan.

  A biker minister said a few words after the crowd had assembled. Evie wondered how the minister reconciled his duties with the ethos of an outlaw biker gang, or what his superiors thought about him wearing a cut. She didn’t recognize his patch, but he was darkly handsome, almost exotic in appearance, with deeply tanned skin and long blond hair, tied back in a ponytail.

  Jagger’s speech about T-Rex moved her to tears. Powerful, moving, quietly eloquent, he mentioned the little things that had made T-Rex the most well-regarded member of the club: small kindnesses, thoughtfulness, and a selflessness that put them all to shame. And in the end, he had died true to his nature, sacrificing himself to keep another safe.

  Gunner followed with a story about T-Rex as a prospect, bursting into a board meeting to tell them Jagger had been kidnapped and then almost falling over when he saw Jagger alive. After Sparky and Dax gave their speeches, and the service had come to a close, Evie stayed behind so she could spend a few minutes alone at the grave.

  She had only a few minutes of reflection before she sensed another presence near the grave. Her head jerked up and she saw Zane on the other side of the headstone, thumbs looped in the belt hooks of his worn, black jeans. The dark shadow of a beard covered his jaw and his hair looked like it hadn’t been combed in weeks. He had lost weight—his T-shirt hung loose under his cut, and although he still cut an imposing figure he looked … diminished, not just physically, but emotionally, too.