Beyond the Cut

by Sarah Castille

  “Jesus. Fucking. Christ.”

  Dawn’s mouth watered in anticipation. Oh yeah. Jimmy was about to pay for his crimes. His presence was a challenge to Sinner dominance in Conundrum, and no one challenged the Sinners without paying a price.

  “You were an old lady in the Devil’s Brethren?”

  “Biggest mistake of my life.” She hadn’t realized just how big until she’d become pregnant with the twins at the age of nineteen. Only then did the blinders come off. Although the Brethren were hard, ruthless, violent men, they had bylaws and a constitution, rules and a creed. Jimmy followed the rules only to the extent he was forced to do so, and he lacked the fierce protectiveness most bikers had toward their property: bikes, weapons, clubhouse, women, and children—born or unborn.

  Jimmy’s dark eyes finally flicked from Dawn to Cade and back to Dawn. She trembled under his silent censure, wondering if he’d seen Cade’s hand on her cheek and just how bad her punishment would be if he had. Jimmy’s justice was swift and brutal, and she’d quickly learned that the price for breaking his rules was not worth even the smallest amount of defiance.

  Cade took a small step forward, interposing his body between her and Jimmy. He seemed unaware of his subtly protective gesture, but Jimmy had seen it, and from the ferocity of his scowl he wasn’t pleased. Of course, his displeasure was only the tip of the iceberg. She’d been caught breaking the deal. Now she would have to pay.

  * * *

  Cade didn’t think of himself as a violent man. However, the string of blood patches lining the bottom of his cut said otherwise: One patch for every life taken. A skull and crossbones for his tenth kill. And a Master of Mayhem patch telling the world he’d made violations for his club.

  Violations he’d willingly make again.

  The Sinners had given him the brotherhood and camaraderie he missed after leaving the army, and a way of life that made him look forward to every day when, for the longest time, he thought of nothing but ending it all.

  And right now, his club’s dominance was being threatened by a member of the Devil’s Brethren who dared step foot in Sinner’s Tribe territory; a biker who had stared at Dawn as if he owned her and Cade was the one in the wrong.

  He wants to stick it to the Sinners.

  Well, fuck that. No damn member of the Brethren would intrude on his territory, whether it was his town, nestled at the foot of Montana’s Bridger Mountains, or a beautiful green-eyed blonde with a dry wit, a sharp tongue, and the sexiest body he’d ever had the pleasure to fuck.

  Time had not diminished his desire in the least. When he’d seen Dawn standing under the tree, dark blond waves blowing gently around her heartbreakingly, beautiful face, lush curves filling out a slender frame, he almost crashed his bike. No one had ever affected him the way Dawn did, and over the last year he’d made the effort to find out.

  “He’s their father.” A statement. Not a question. Although he had questions for Dawn. Like, what the fuck was she doing with such a loser? When did they split? And was it before she and Cade got together? Not that he had any issues with martial infidelity—he’d fucked plenty of married women, most of them better lays than the inexperienced hang-arounds at the club who were desperate to get into his bed—but he hadn’t pegged Dawn as an old lady. And Arianne would have told him if she was still involved with the Brethren.

  “Yeah, but we’re not together anymore.”

  “I can’t stand by and let one of the Brethren ride around my town like he’s got the fucking right to be here. It’s like a slap in the face.”

  Too bad Mad Dog was already rolling his throttle, preparing to flee. Except for the monthly fight matches at the clubhouse, Cade rarely got a chance to fight—properly fight—and he’d always been a brawler, taking out the stress of living in an abusive household on anyone who rubbed him the wrong way. Even after he’d joined the army he’d been disciplined countless times for scrapping.

  “You have to do what you have to do.” Dawn seemed surprisingly unconcerned that Cade was about to hunt down the father of her children. Her ex. Whatever had happened between them must have been bad.

  Real bad.

  Mad Dog accelerated into the traffic and Cade threw himself on his bike.

  “I’m gonna take care of him.” And not just for the club. He was more than happy to serve up a little justice. Sinner style.

  Moments later he was off, mindful of the mothers and children crossing the street, not as mindful of the red lights or stop signs. He was an outlaw, after all, and the sheriff’s department in Conundrum knew better than to interfere with Sinner business. Until last year, the Sinners had Sheriff Morton on their payroll, but after the sheriff had been picked up by the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives (ATF) for selling confiscated weapons, a new sheriff arrived with a new deputy in tow and they weren’t amenable to engaging in business with outlaws. In other words, they couldn’t be bought.

  Unlike Mad Dog’s fucking sister. What the hell was going on there? Why did Dawn have to pay to see her kids? And how the heck did they wind up with their aunt? How was it he knew so little about her and yet she was the one woman he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind?

  He thought he’d had Dawn all figured out their first night together. Smart, savvy, and sexy, she knew what she wanted and she took no prisoners. He’d imagined nights of sweaty fucking, his cock buried inside her pussy, her generous breasts filling his palms, the sweet sound of surrender as he gave her the kind of pleasure only a man with his experience could give. And then, when he tired of her, or when she became clingy and demanding of his time, the inevitable good-bye. His first clue things weren’t going to go as planned was when he woke up in bed alone after their first night together, the second, when it happened again.

  But not this time. After he dealt with Mad Dog, he’d pull out all the stops and get her back in his bed. Then he’d fuck her until they were so exhausted neither of them could run away. She wanted him. He knew it from the way she licked her lips when she looked at him, and how her cheeks flushed when he touched her, the way her mouth parted, inviting him in …

  Fuck me, Cade.

  Sweeter words he’d never heard.

  Shaking off the memory of Dawn moaning beneath him, Cade pursued Mad Dog through residential areas and then north on the interstate toward the airport. What the fuck? The Devil’s Brethren had moved south of Conundrum after the turf war. If Mad Dog had any sense, he’d head to the Brethren clubhouse where Cade couldn’t touch him.

  But that was the problem with the Brethren. Whether it was stupidity or arrogance, they just couldn’t accept Sinner dominance of the state. Even after the hellish battle in which the Brethren president, JC, was killed and his brothers were stomped, beaten, and chain-whipped to a pulp, their patches and bikes confiscated, legs and arms broken to prevent them from riding, they’d simply regrouped under a new leader, JC’s brother, Wolf. No matter what the Sinners did to them, the Brethren just kept coming back. Like the roaches they were.

  Leaning low on his bike, Cade closed the distance between him and Mad Dog, the icy wind sending a shiver down his back. Living in Montana had its challenges, not the least of which was winter riding. But with the advent of spring, he’d dumped the tire chains and Gore-Tex gloves. The bandanna, however, was still a must.

  Mad Dog’s bike screeched to a stop outside a warehouse nestled at the foot of the Bridger Mountains, just outside the town boundaries. Something about the warehouse niggled at the back of Cade’s mind. He knew for certain he’d ridden past it last year in pursuit of a gang of Black Jacks intent on taking out Jagger and Arianne, but there was something else about the building … something he couldn’t quite remember. An offhand comment made a long time ago.

  Cade parked his bike, then did a quick reconnaissance of the building: Two windows, blacked out. A side door, locked. Tire treads near the front door. White panel van parked out back. He searched the trees nearby but found no other vehicles, bikes, o
r Brethren.

  Maybe Mad Dog had run out of fuel … or courage. Or maybe he thought he’d be able to take Cade out from a secure position inside. He had to know Cade followed him here. So was it a trap or a challenge? Not that it mattered. Cade had a duty to address the wrong done to his MC: the blatant disrespect of daring to ride in Sinner territory wearing the colors of a rival club.

  Steeling himself for the confrontation, Cade drew his weapon and stalked toward the door, a thrill of adrenaline shooting through his veins. Nothing Cade had accomplished as a child—school, sports, summer jobs—had been good enough for his father, but Cade excelled at using violence to solve his problems. Just like his old man.

  He sent a quick text giving Jagger his location and the barest details of what had happened. He had no hesitation going in alone after Jimmy, preferring solo missions to group efforts where he invariably would be put in charge of inexperienced prospects or junior patch who had never fired a gun. Not that he had any issues with being in charge. He’d led his squad through countless missions while on tour in Afghanistan, until the night they were caught in an ambush. His discharge hadn’t come about because he’d been the only man to survive, but because afterward he’d sought comfort the only way he knew how. And damned if anyone had told him that the lush blonde with the big blue eyes who tried to convince him life was still worth living by inviting him into her bed was the Lieutenant General’s daughter.

  But that was a long time ago. He no longer needed the soft sweetness of a woman to soothe his pain. He had the club, his bike, his brothers, and he had a fucking kick-ass weapon, a military-issue SIG Sauer P228 begging to be unloaded in a dirty piece of Brethren ass.

  Cade slowly turned the handle on the front door, his weapon raised and ready. The hunt was on.

  TWO

  I do not fear death. Death will fear me.

  SINNER’S TRIBE CREED

  “Doors open in five minutes. Quit your yapping and get out front.”

  Joe Banks, proprietor of Banks Bar, lifted a warning eyebrow and glared at Dawn and her best friend, Arianne, engaged in a deep discussion in the middle of the stockroom.

  “The bar isn’t open yet.” Dawn returned his scowl. “There are no customers I need to serve, and I haven’t seen my bestie in a week. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “That’s what phones are for.”

  Arianne laughed as she twisted her long, dark hair into a ponytail. Tall and slim, with startling green eyes and a perfectly oval face, she and Dawn had bonded her first day on the job over Banks’s gruff manner, his pawing customers, and a shared fondness for flavored vodka.

  “That’s what stockrooms are for,” Arianne said. “So wipe that frown off your face and let us have our little catch-up, or this bartender is going to walk and take your best waitress with her.”

  “Ever since you became Jagger’s old lady, you got a serious attitude problem,” Banks grumbled as he hoisted a box on his shoulder. “Before you hooked up with him, you were sweet, nice, easy to get along with. Now you’re telling me how it is, wearing your damn cut while you’re working the bar, throwing me out of my stockroom … I liked you better when you were just Viper’s runaway daughter. Before, you had more respect.”

  Dawn laughed and kissed his cheek. Ex-law-enforcement, with one hell of a ripped body and the chiseled good looks to match, Banks was a close friend, and more often than not she found herself eating pizza and watching westerns at his apartment when she had a rare evening off. Arianne thought they were a good match, but Banks was too straitlaced for Dawn. She’d always had a wild side. And if not for the streak of rebel in her, she’d never have been able to run away from home the night she turned fourteen.

  “It’s not just Arianne; I don’t respect you, either,” Dawn teased. “Like you. But no respect.”

  “Fired.” He pushed open the swinging door leading to the bar. “Both of you. Fired.”

  “Is that the first time we’re fired tonight?” Arianne leaned against the wall, arms folded over the Sinner’s Tribe cut Jagger insisted she wear when she worked the bar. The Sinner patch alone would have been enough to save her from roaming hands, but the PROPERTY OF JAGGER rocker above it kept all but the most ignorant away.

  Dawn tied her apron around her waist. “Yep. But it won’t be the last.”

  Banks wasn’t given to overt affection. His threats to fire them were the closest he got to expressing friendship. That and saving Arianne from her psychotic brother, and then taking a beating from Jagger for his trouble.

  Still, he was a good manager and the bar had always done well. Dawn made twice as much money at Banks Bar as she did waitressing at Table Tops restaurant in the mornings, and arranging flowers at Cindy’s Florals in the afternoons. One day, though, when she got her girls back and returned to college, she’d get that Accounting Technology Certificate she’d always dreamed about, a good, stable, high-paying job, and maybe even study for her CPA. Just like her dad.

  At least that had been the dream a year ago.

  Shortly after meeting Cade, she’d taken the bold step of filing for a divorce, and then she’d lost the girls. After that, determined to regain custody, she had no time for men, not the engaging new Conundrum deputy sheriff, Doug Benson, and especially not bikers, and most particularly not bikers who thought they were God’s gift to women.

  “So … finish telling me about Cade.” Arianne gave Dawn a nudge after the door closed behind Banks. Arianne knew about Dawn’s past, although not the reason Dawn had run away from home, or what happened to her on the streets before Jimmy found her—some doors were better left closed. “You gonna see him again?”

  “No.” Dawn checked the small mirror near the coat hooks and fluffed her curls. The bigger the hair the better the tips. “I broke it off last year after those two hot nights for a reason. And that reason was right in my face this afternoon. Present company excluded, of course, outlaw bikers are bad news.”

  “You can’t judge all outlaw bikers solely on what you experienced with Jimmy and the Brethren. The Sinners care about their women, protect them.” She gave Dawn a wry smile. “Some women even get respect.”

  “They have bylaws and rules, but they don’t follow the law. And they’re misogynistic to the core.”

  “True.” Arianne gave her a wink. “But you just have to learn how to work the system.”

  “I’m not you,” Dawn said. “I’m not badass to the bone and make all men except Jagger quake in their biker boots when I walk past. I’ve been betrayed in one way or another by every man I trusted, but I survived Jimmy and fought my way free. Now I’m fighting for my girls. I don’t have time for men, and I’m not about to open myself up again, especially to a man like Cade.”

  “What kind of man do you think he is?”

  “The dangerous kind,” Dawn said. “The kind of man a woman dreams about, but never wants to meet because the reality of him overwhelms any fantasy. Powerful. Dominant. A biker. The kind of man I promised myself I would never fall for again.”

  And a womanizer, or so she’d heard after their two nights together. Charming, handsome, and seductive, but totally unfaithful, unable to commit, and unrepentant for his “crimes.” The last time she’d been to a Sinner party, she’d heard rumors that Cade never slept with the same woman twice. She’d been tempted to share the fact that she had, in fact, slept with Cade twice, but she decided instead to slip out of the party and out of his life.

  “I thought you liked him.” Arianne rounded the bar and took up her position behind the polished wood counter.

  Dawn grabbed a serving tray from the shelf behind Arianne. “I don’t really know him. We didn’t talk much. We were too busy ripping off each other’s clothes and having sizzling-hot sex in his room at the clubhouse. And both mornings, coward that I am, I sneaked away at daybreak so I didn’t have to tell him to his face I couldn’t see him again.”

  “And yet after that first night, you did.” Arianne waved to the first customer i
n the door. Dawn grabbed her notepad from the counter and stuffed it in her apron.

  “But not after the second time.” She turned away so Arianne wouldn’t see the regret on her face. She’d felt something the second time—a longing that tugged at her heart and kept her awake long after Cade had fallen asleep, an inexplicable certainty that nothing and no one would harm her while she lay in his arms.

  She’d never felt so safe since her parents died, and the memories of their unconditional love and the good times they shared together—picnics and hikes in the mountains, playing number games with her dad and gardening with her mom—still made her heart ache. With Jimmy, she’d walked a fine line between affection and anger. One wrong step, one misspoken word and he would turn on her, his punishment swift, brutal, and invariably cruel.

  She couldn’t afford to have those longings. Dreams, hopes, and desires that did nothing to help get her kids back were a waste of time and energy. A heartbreak waiting to happen. Maybe one day, when she and her girls were together again and living far, far away from Jimmy and the Devil’s Brethren …

  “Hey, gorgeous.”

  She looked up as T-Rex, the newest full-patch member of the Sinners, joined them at the bar. Tall, blond, and built like a linebacker, with a broad face and a warm smile, T-Rex was a favorite in the club, and one of the few bikers who didn’t set Dawn’s teeth on edge. And that was saying something.

  “Corona. Cold. No lime. No glass.” Dawn rattled off his drink as T-Rex sat on one of the bar stools and chuckled.

  “Damn. Don’t know how you do that, but you impress the brothers every time they stop by for a drink. Even if Cade hadn’t laid down the law, they wouldn’t be cracking blonde jokes about you.”