Beyond the Cut (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #2)

“He’s only doing that ’cause he knows I’m coming after him. It’s a trap. If he made a deal with Viper and goes back on it, Viper will hunt him until he’s dead.” Which is exactly what I should be doing right now. Cade clenched his hands by his sides. Every minute he wasted was a minute Dawn might be suffering.

“I agree it doesn’t feel right, but we can’t just kill the president of another MC, especially if he’s making overtures to the club.” Jagger scrubbed his hands over his face. “Our future is at stake. The lives of all the club members are at stake. He offered to bring Dawn and the shipment of AKs Wolf promised us as a gesture of good faith if I agree to meet with him.”

“Like she’s a piece of property.” If he’d listened to his instincts and taken care of Mad Dog in the beginning, Dawn wouldn’t be in that clubhouse, and the club wouldn’t be at risk. He loved the club. He loved his brothers. But he loved Dawn, too. Weeks ago, he’d made a sacrifice for his club. Now he would make a sacrifice for her. He had wasted enough of his life bearing a heavy burden of guilt over things he couldn’t control. This time, there was something he could do and nothing was going to stand in his way.

He slid the cut off his shoulders and threw it on Jagger’s desk.

“I’m done.”





TWENTY-FIVE

I will never abandon my brother.

SINNER’S TRIBE CREED

Cade pushed himself away from the wall outside the police station and walked under the glow from the overhead streetlight, making himself visible to the cop crossing the parking lot.

“Benson.”

Benson turned and frowned, then looked back over his shoulder at the police station as if assessing how close he was to safety. “Cade? You looking for me?”

Hands held high so Benson could see he wasn’t armed, at least not visibly, Cade walked toward him. “It’s about Dawn. I need a favor. Didn’t want any brothers to see me talking to the cops. You know someplace private we can talk?”

“Jail?”

“I’m not in a joking mood.”

“I wasn’t joking. When we renovated the station, we built nice new comfy jail cells, so no one is using the old cellblock. The cameras are offline. It’s as private as you’re gonna get, and to be honest, I’m not keen on going anywhere you might stab me in the back.”

“No honor in stabbing someone in the back, but fine, let’s go.” As long as he had his weapon, he didn’t care where they talked and with the clock ticking he wasn’t prepared to dick around.

Benson led him through a back door and down a dingy flight of concrete stairs. He keyed a number code into a panel beside a thick steel door. Fluorescent lights went on when the door opened and they walked along the corridor to a small, windowless room filled with monitors and a few chairs. The cellblock smelled of mold and sweat, and faintly of piss.

“Guard station.” Benson waved Cade over to a metal chair. “Or maybe you’re familiar with it.”

“Never been incarcerated. I like to keep my nose clean.”

“Sure.” Benson took a seat near the door. “That’s why you’re in an outlaw biker gang that runs guns, shakes down small-business owners, and protects drug dealers as they transport their goods through our fine state. Oh, and I’m sure you had nothing to do with the body that was found outside Dawn’s house.”

Cade bristled. “We run legitimate businesses in and around Conundrum.”

“To launder your money.”

“To provide services to the good citizens,” Cade countered. Damn. He didn’t want to like Benson, but he had to admit the dude was sharp as whip. He knew the score with the Sinners. No doubt he had some plan in mind to take them down in the future.

“So what favor could you possibly need from me?” Benson folded his arms, his chair squeaking as he settled back.

“I might need you to get Dawn and her girls out of town.” He leaned his forearms on his thighs and dropped his hands between his legs. “Shit is going down between the clubs. Could get ugly. I got something I have to do and if something happens to me, she’ll have no one to watch out for her. If that happens, I want you to put them in the witness protection program so they can live a safe life.”

He had Benson’s attention now. The chair squeaked again as Benson leaned forward, mimicking Cade’s position. “What do you mean by ‘shit is going down’?”

“Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about.” Fuck. He just wanted to get Benson’s agreement and get out. Biker business wasn’t cop business and he didn’t want to give the game away. Plus, it grated on him something fierce to have to come to Benson for help. But without Cade, Dawn had no connection to the Sinners, and the safest place for her was out of town.

Benson’s mouth opened and closed and Cade prayed he didn’t say something that would piss him off. He was wound too tight, a coil ready to spring. Never could he have imagined having to go to the police for help.

“You’re not wearing your cut.”

“Very observant,” he said drily.

“So you’re not a biker anymore?”

“I’m a man who’s gotta protect the people he cares about whatever the cost.”