Rough Justice

by Sarah Castille

  “I like the part about shooting him between the eyes,” she said lightly, trying to hide the quaver in her voice. “Because I have a feeling, deal or no deal, word or not, you won’t be down with what I agreed to do if I lose.”

  He brushed his knuckles over her cheek, and pleasure rippled down her spine. “Like it when you play nice, but don’t think for a second I wouldn’t drag you out of here and throw you on my bike if that’s what I want to do.” He held her gaze, his dark eyes burning into her soul. “I have reasons for letting you stay that have nothing to do with that smart sassy mouth.”

  “You’re just dying to see me make the next shot.”

  Jagger laughed and released her, then settled himself on a chair at the end of the pool table, legs spread, arms folded across his chest. All alpha. All the time.

  Arianne looked over her shoulder and bit her lip. “What are you doing?”

  “Watchin’ what’s mine.”

  “This isn’t your ass, Jagger.”

  The look he gave her, sensual, sinful, sent a wave of molten lava pounding through her veins. “You are mine, Arianne. And later, I’m gonna make sure you understand just what that means.”

  THIRTEEN

  Members may not involve old ladies in club business without prior consent of the president or they will get an ass-kicking.

  Two nights after the incident at the pool hall, Jagger got a call that put an end to his plan to spend yet another night showing Arianne what it meant to be his.

  Raw instinct burned inside him as he watched her fueling his bike. He’d been hard since met her at Banks Bar and treated her to a preview of what was to come against the brick wall at the back of the bar.

  Entirely her fault. Usually he had no problem exercising restraint, but when his little minx had whispered in his ear all the naughty things she’d been fantasizing about all day and then let him feel just how wet those fantasies had made her, he had to have her right then. Up went the skirt. Off went the panties. Pop went the buttons on her blouse. And he’d taken her as rough and hard as she’d begged him to do. Yeah, he liked it dirty, but nothing turned him on more than a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to tell him.

  She’d also let him know what she thought of his plan to let the prospects take her vehicle home from the parking lot behind Banks Bar, but he would only yield so far. He wanted her on his bike, her soft body tucked up against him. Safe from Viper and Axle, but not safe from him.

  A truck rumbled by and he walked away from the pumps so he didn’t miss anything Gunner had to say. He knew the news would have to be bad for Gunner to call, but he wasn’t prepared for a total disaster.

  A panicked Gunner gave him the details. The team was at the Black Jacks ice house. Everything was prepped and ready to go, but Bandit had let them down. Axle’s protégé hadn’t been able to set the explosives, and now they were sitting ducks, up on a hillside, with a stolen truck that was supposed to be rigged to blow. They needed Axle. Or someone with his expertise, and they needed him now. The window of opportunity between shift changes was closing. What did Jagger want him to do?

  Jagger scrubbed a hand over his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d reneged on a promise. And certainly not a promise to fuck a woman senseless. Nor could he remember a time he’d wanted a woman so bad, he’d been tempted to put aside his duty to the club and indulge himself simply so he could think straight again.

  But he had to go. He had enough munitions experience to rig the truck. Problem was, he would need to take Arianne with him. He had just picked her up from work, and they were only twenty minutes from the ice house. No time to take her back to Sparky’s place and no fucking way was he leaving her alone in the seedy East side of Conundrum.

  He assured Gunner he was on his way, then tucked his phone into the pocket of his cut. Later was going to be even later than he’d planned. As always, duty would have to win out over desire.

  “We gotta make a quick detour,” he said when he returned to his bike. “Job’s gone bad. Should only take a few minutes.”

  Arianne slid onto the seat behind him. “I’ll entertain myself by thinking naughty thoughts.”

  Christ! As if he weren’t hard already. “How ‘bout you think about telling me what was on that piece of paper Bunny gave you the other night?”

  After Arianne had sunk the eight ball, Bunny handed over a piece of paper with the greatest reluctance—and only after Jagger and Cade had disarmed his bodyguards and left them moaning on the floor. Clearly Bunny never intended to give Arianne the information he had been forced to hand over at gunpoint. Jagger didn’t want to think about what Bunny had planned for her, but he’d left a few of the brothers behind to make sure Bunny got the message that Arianne was now under Sinner protection.

  He’d fully expected Arianne to tell him why she’d gone to Bunny in the first place. But she’d tucked the paper away, and every time he raised the question, she gave him that cool smile he had come to realize meant the subject was closed for discussion. He’d indulged her for two days now, and this would be the last time he’d ask … nicely.

  Twenty minutes later, they joined Gunner and his team at the top of a grassy hill overlooking the Black Jacks’ darkened warehouse. Although she stopped mid-stride when she saw the ice house in the distance, and the truck set to blow it sky high, Arianne made no comment other than that it might be better if she stayed with the bikes. A sound decision, given the questioning glances being exchanged between the brothers on the job.

  It took him less than five minutes to diagnose the problem and thirty seconds to rewire the explosives. Bandit apologized profusely, but Jagger held only himself to blame. Bandit had worked with Axle on only a handful of jobs, and he should have known better than to send out his brother with no mentor to guide him.

  “You ready for the block?” Gunner lifted a concrete slab from the back of the cage, and Jagger nodded. They had only to drop the block on the accelerator, lock the steering wheel, and let the truck fly.

  “Where the fuck is Cade?” Gunner grunted as he walked the block over to the truck. “He’s supposed to be sharing the load.”

  Zane looked up and grinned, his teeth shining white in the semidarkness. “I’ll bet he’s banging Arianne’s friend again.”

  “Jesus Christ.” Sparky closed the truck’s hood. “Has there ever been a day he wasn’t banging some chick? I swear, the minute he walks into a room, they’re all over him.”

  Gunner heaved the block into the truck. “They’re not all over me, and I’m just as good-lookin’ as him.”

  “Except you have no hair,” Wheels called out from his vantage position on the rise.

  “And you’re missing a coupla teeth.” Sparky chortled.

  “But he does have a few extra rolls.”

  “And a few less smarts.”

  “Can it.” Jagger cut them off with a growl, hoping to stop the conversation from degenerating any further before Arianne heard them. “Too much noise. He’s with T-Rex, doing a last perimeter check.”

  “It’s ready.” Zane yanked on the doors and then pounded twice to let Gunner know to lock the steering wheel in place and get the block into position, while they waited for Bandit’s signal down by the warehouse.

  “Can’t believe you brought her to watch us blow up her daddy’s ice house.” Zane joined Jagger at the top of the rise.

  “We were close by. Couldn’t just leave her on the street.” Jagger folded his arms and turned to face his oldest friend. “You got something to say, Zane? I’m here, putting her in danger, because, as always, it is ‘club first.’ That a problem for you?”

  Zane held up his hands, palms forward. “Just sayin’ a job like this is no place for a woman. And bringing her here sends a message the boys won’t forget. Just want to make sure it’s the right message goin’ around and not that she’s got you so twisted around her finger, you can’t do what a man’s gotta do without having her by your side.”

  “
If you weren’t my oldest friend, I’d kick you out of the club for that kind of disrespect.”

  Zane laughed. “If you kicked me out every time I said something you didn’t want to hear, I’d have an ass the size of Montana.”

  “Clear.” Gunner’s voice carried through the darkness, and Wheels and Bandit scurried back to the field. At Jagger’s nod, Gunner turned on the engine and put the truck in neutral. With the wheel locked in place, the truck took off down the slope, gathering speed as it neared the warehouse.

  Jagger felt an unwelcome, familiar heaviness in his chest when the truck slammed through the barbed wire fence and hit the front of the building. A fireball consumed the vehicle, then sheeted over the warehouse, lighting up the darkness. Filled with flammable chemicals, the warehouse didn’t take long to ignite, and within minutes the acrid scent of smoke clouded the air around them.

  “Jagger. Look out!” Arianne’s voice rang in the silence, just as the beam of a flashlight cut through the shadows.

  Jagger dived behind a bush as the light skimmed over the plateau. Heart pounding, he drew his weapon and rolled back into the bush. More flashlights. Footsteps. He estimated at least ten men. Where had they come from? The rocky outcropping that concealed them from the road and warehouse below would have made them invisible to everyone except those who knew their exact location. And where the fuck was Arianne?

  “Find ’em. Kill ’em. If you see Jagger, leave him to me.” The unmistakable rumble of Bear’s deep voice echoed in the darkness.

  Rage pumped hot through Jagger’s veins. Was there a rat in the club? Wouldn’t be hard to find out who it was, because the only people who knew about the job were the men with him now. And one woman. A Black Jack woman.

  No. From what he knew of Arianne, she wasn’t deceitful. And yet … Bunny … and the paper—

  A shot rang out, pinging off the rocks. A scream. Wheels?

  He lay flat, heart thudding in his chest, trying to fight back the memories of another ambush, a hot desert, an enemy that felt they had nothing to lose with a fierce, open attack. Taking stock, he noted the positions of his men around the small plateau, concealed in the shadows as the Jacks hunted them blind. There had been no cover for his men in Afghanistan. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. Darkness was their savior, along with the hope the retrieval copter would take out the enemy before they all died.

  He caught a flash in the darkness and then another. Someone was foolish enough to run, making himself a moving target silhouetted by the inferno raging below.

  Bandit. Damnit. Too green. Too young. Too scared.

  “After him.” The shout came from the darkness.

  “No.” Arianne exploded from her hiding spot near Jagger’s bike and shot at the Jacks chasing after Bandit.

  Jagger took advantage of their confusion, leaping up and shooting into the shadows. From the other side of the clearing, Zane did the same.

  He spotted Bear only moments after Bear recognized him. Too late. Pain seared across his arm and he stumbled, dropping to his knee. But when Bear took a step toward him, a bullet shattered the rock beside his feet. Bear turned with a roar.

  “Vexy. You betraying little bitch. Thought you were claimed by the Sinners, made a prisoner, but it looks like it was all a fucking setup. You were with them all along. Well, no more.”

  A shot. A thud. A whimper. Jagger’s heart skipped a beat and he pushed himself up, searching in the shadows.

  Doors slammed. Feet thudded. He heard Cade shout and then the rapid fire of automatic weapons. Cade and T-Rex had come well-armed. Screams in the darkness, and then the Black Jacks beat a hasty retreat.

  He found her lying near a rocky outcropping. Motionless. Her gun still in her outstretched hand. For a moment he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his heart pounded in his chest. If she was dead … dead like Christel … dead because of him … because he hadn’t learned his lesson the first time …

  “She all right?” Zane clasped his shoulder and knelt down beside him. He knew. Zane always seemed to know when the PTSD kicked in and Jagger lost himself to the ghosts of his past.

  Jagger knelt beside her, placing his fingers lightly on the artery in her neck, praying he would feel her pulse.

  “I’m alive.” She turned to look at them, her eyes bright in the darkness. “Just hit my head kinda hard, so I thought I’d lie here for a few minutes until I stopped seeing stars. But it’s night. So maybe that’s why the stars aren’t going away.”

  Words failed him, so instead he lifted her into his arms, wincing when her shoulder brushed against his wound.

  “I’ll take her,” Zane said. “We’d be at least two men down if not for her, and you need to get that arm checked.”

  Arianne twisted to look at his injury, but he passed her over to Zane and headed for his bike.

  “Jagger? Where are you going?”

  He kept walking. Zane would explain without giving too much away, and he would look after Arianne. No doubt he would also check her phone. If Jagger had suspicions now, then Zane would have had them from the start.

  Jagger mounted his bike and started the engine. He needed to clear his head before returning to the clubhouse for the party that would invariably follow the successful operation.

  Before ending it with Arianne.

  And it had to end. By bringing her with him tonight, he had not only broken a club rule about involving women and outsiders in club business, but he had also put her in danger.

  Unforgivable and totally unacceptable. There was no reason for her to be there. He could have dropped her off, called a cab, or sent one of the brothers to pick her up, but he hadn’t been thinking straight.

  He had wanted her with him every minute of every day, in part because she had been so adamant about leaving, but mostly because he enjoyed her company. She was smart, sharp, and savvy with a dry sense of humor and good sense of fun. They’d gone to the shooting range together, shot some stick at Riders Bar, and spent an afternoon racing through the mountain pass. For the first time in his life, he’d let his guard down. And now he had to pay the price.

  Frustration speared through his heart as he peeled away from the hill. He was supposed to be holding her in his arms, stroking her sweet curves, burying himself deep inside her, listening to her moan as he made her his in every sense of the word. Instead, he was driving through the dark streets of Conundrum. Alone. Wondering how the hell he would let her go.

  The party was just getting started.

  While Wheels and T-Rex hauled crates of beer into the kitchen, telling the story about the ice house explosion yet again, Arianne helped Jill and Tanya unload the snacks from the cage. She’d assured Zane she was fine except for a headache, and although reluctant, he’d agreed not to call the club doctor who had been out of town the night she’d been knocked off her motorcycle.

  When the beer had been opened and the snacks laid out, everyone gathered in the living room for a toast. First, they toasted Bandit, who had taken one in the ass when he panicked and ran and had to be saved by a girl. With all due respect to Arianne and no offense intended, of course.

  Then they toasted Sparky and Cade, who had taken Bandit to the hospital. They toasted Zane for staying outside to guard so they could party without his wet blanket presence, and Gunner for going out to find them some girls. Again, no offense to the ladies, but it was a party and there wasn’t enough pussy to go around.

  Only slightly offended, Arianne joined Jill and Tanya on the porch while the inebriated bikers texted Gunner with their specific requests.

  “So, how do you like being a blood price?” Tanya handed Arianne a beer and grinned. Her golden-brown hair swung over her shoulder as she settled on the porch steps beside Jill.

  Small and slender, with a heart-shaped face and wide green eyes, Tanya had quickly established herself as the dominant sweet butt in the club, with a mouth unfettered by social norms of politeness. Her friend Jill, a tall Nordic blonde, wa
s more reserved, and unlike any of the sweet butts Arianne had ever met at the Black Jack clubhouse, who were all gregarious by nature.

  “I’m no one’s property.” She sipped the beer, cringing as the bitter liquid slid over her tongue. Part of her wanted to belong to Jagger, but only in the same way he would belong to her.

  “Seriously?” Tanya’s eyes widened. “If Jagger wanted me, I’d be over the moon. He’s sex on a stick, and president of the MC, although he’s pretty damn terrifying. Except for Sherry, he’s always been a one-night-stand kinda guy, probably because he scares most of the girls away. At least, that’s how it’s been since I joined the club.”

  “How did you wind up here?” Arianne couldn’t hold back her curiosity. What kept the sweet butts coming back, aside from the promise of power and prestige if they were chosen as a biker’s old lady?

  Tanya looked past them and down the driveway to where Zane stood, keeping watch. “I was married. My ex was abusive. I ran away but he kept finding me. One night I was at a bar and I saw the Sinners beating up some guy ’cause he’d tried to rough up one of their sweet butts. They were real good to her after, and I decided I wanted some of that. So I started hanging around. Did some things I wasn’t proud of, but generally tried to be helpful, if you know what I mean. Eventually, Jagger said I could stay.”

  “I get it.” Arianne said softly. The Jacks had had a revolving door of women that turned so fast, she hadn’t even bothered to learn their names. Had any of them been like Tanya—just needing a safe haven? She hoped not because they would have found themselves in hell.

  “Most of the other sweet butts want to be a biker’s old lady.” Tanya gave her a shy smile. “Me? I’m just happy to be safe. No way will my ex be able to touch me now. And the guys here are fun and good to us. Suits me fine.”