“It’s my call.” Mad Dog spat on the ground beside Cade’s knee. “This is personal, not political. He was with my old lady. He had his fucking paws on her. Probably been fucking her, too. I gotta right to protect my property.”
“Thought she wasn’t your old lady no more.” A burly biker with a massive beer gut toyed with his barbecue gun, a nickel-plated fixed-sight .38 super 1911, low on functionality but nice for cowboy shooter types to show off at barbecues or social functions. “And it becomes political once you off him, whatever the reason.”
“Dammit, Trey. She’s a bitch who needs to be kept in line. A man’s got a right to punish his old lady. And that bitch has so much damn attitude, she needs it a lot. She thinks she’s untouchable living in Conundrum, just like she thought she was untouchable when she filed for divorce. But those kids are her weakness. She wants them; she comes home to Daddy. This time tomorrow I’ll be beating her into submission with a bullwhip until she learns not to defy me again, and then I’m gonna fuck her so hard she won’t remember her own name.”
Son of a bitch. Cade itched to get his hands around Mad Dog’s throat. But first he needed to get his hands free.
Mad Dog’s phone buzzed in his cut. He signaled to his Brethren brothers to watch Cade, and then he walked down the road as he engaged in a heated conversation with the caller. Cade continued working the ropes he’d loosened during the trip. Just another inch and he’d be able to show Mad Dog what a real beating was like.
Mad Dog returned a few minutes later, his face red and spittle bubbling at the corners of his lips.
“Wolf knows we got the Sinner. Wants us to let him go. One of you musta texted him during the drive. Who’s the fucking rat?”
Silence.
Although Mad Dog wore a vice president patch, Cade hadn’t been around the group long enough to ascertain just how much power he held in the club. But if one of his supporters had reported the kidnapping to Wolf behind Mad Dog’s back, then he didn’t have the type of loyalty that inspired leadership. Which meant he’d be trying to prove himself, making him twice as dangerous as any of the other Devil’s Brethren gathered around him.
“Fuck.” Mad Dog kicked Cade in the side and Cade clenched his teeth against the pain.
“Wolf says we can rough him up a bit, but until the patch-over is a sure thing, he doesn’t want to start a war with the Sinners.” His lip curled and he spat again. “Wolf is a fucking old man. He’s weak. Yeah, we need the Jacks, but why would we patch over and let them swallow us up instead of becoming a support club and keeping our power? It’s time for a change. Once I’m president, I’ll make this club great again like it was under my old man. I’m not afraid of the damn Sinners. We got lots of new blood. I say we start a war. Bring it on.”
“You got ambition and good ideas but you gotta be patient.” Rusty held up a warning hand. “You’re not gonna help your case in the election if you outright defy Wolf. You gotta show you can toe the party line until it’s your fucking party. We should do as Wolf says. Beat him good and let him go.”
“But now he knows about the patch-over.” Trey cuffed Cade on the head.
Dammit to hell. If they intended to rough him up, why not a few proper kicks and punches? Get it over with instead of pussyfooting around.
“What’s he gonna do? Go to Viper and tell him it’s a bad idea? Sinners can’t stop a fucking patch-over. It’s got nothing to do with them. And it’s better this way.” Mad Dog fisted Cade’s hair and yanked his head back. “Now they’ll be running scared.”
“Sinners aren’t scared of anything, especially not roaches like you.” Cade felt the ropes around his wrists slacken and steeled himself to wait for the perfect moment. These bastards were so going down.
“You should be scared.” Mad Dog lifted Cade’s chin with the butt of his gun, forcing Cade to meet his cold, dark gaze. “Six to one on a deserted road in the mountains and your hands are tied. We might not be allowed to kill you, but we can hurt you pretty damn bad.”
THREE
I will strive to better my skill of self-control.
SINNER’S TRIBE CREED
Dawn jolted into consciousness when someone banged on her front door.
Heart pounding, she reached under her bed for the .22 Arianne had given her as a birthday present. Trust Arianne to give her a gun, and an unregistered one at that. Although she had often talked about living in the civilian world, Arianne was a biker through and through. And no biker would ever leave his or her house unarmed.