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

Cade swallowed past the lump in his throat and shrugged on his cut, indulging himself for the briefest second by smoothing his hand over the cool leather. “I don’t get it.”


“You don’t have to make a choice. Whatever path you choose, we will always have your back. Just like you had ours.”

He needed to hear those words. With all that had happened he had lost sight of what was important. This was why he had joined the Sinners. Honor. Brotherhood. Loyalty. Men who would stand up for him. Men who always had his back.

His club.

His tribe.

Jagger nodded at the prospect who was detaching his computer from the panel. “If he hadn’t followed you, we wouldn’t have been able to pinpoint where you were so fast. The GPS lost you when you went into the building.”

Cade glared at the prospect. “You followed me?”

The prospect shrugged. “Lost my old man when he went out on a job without someone at his back. Figured you might need some help.”

“He left so fast, he forgot to put on his cut,” Jagger said, his lips quivering at the corners.

“Rule violation.” Gunner’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Not wearing his cut. He’ll pay a penalty for that in blood.”

“And he followed a senior patch without permission.” Sparky winked and Cade fought back a smile. There was nothing the brothers enjoyed more than hazing a prospect.

“Suicide,” Gunner muttered. “Fuckin’ suicide.”

“I’d call it plain stupid,” Zane cuffed the prospect on the head. “Disrespecting the cut is an automatic kick-out. Leaving the clubhouse without permission is a night in the dungeon with Dax followed by a kick-out.”

“Maybe I’ll just shoot him,” Gunner said as they followed Jagger out of the cellblock. “Put him out of his misery.”

Jagger looked over his shoulder and glared at the prospect. “He also left his computer on. Penalty for wasting energy is death and an ass-kicking from me.”

“No point kicking his ass if he’s already dead.” Sparky patted the prospect’s shoulder. “I think he has value. and it’ll be more fun to kick his ass and hear him scream. He finally showed some spine. It would be a shame to break it too soon.”

The prospect choked back a gasp, and Gunner snorted. “Dead or alive, an ass is an ass to me.”

Cade followed his brothers up the stairs, still trying to wrap his head around the incredible turn of events that meant (1) he was free; (2) he had his cut; (3) the Sinners were going to help him take down Mad Dog; and (4) he had been saved by a fucking prospect.

Time to give something back. “I think our prospect needs a name.”

“Geek.”

“Nerd.”

“Gigolo.”

Jagger stopped at the door and gave Cade a puzzled frown. “Gigolo?”

“Lookit him. The ladies will be falling all over themselves when he walks into a bar wearing his colors looking like some kinda frickin’ biker movie star.”

Everyone turned to stare at the prospect.

“You’re jealous,” Gunner said. “He’s younger and prettier than you. You’re afraid he’s gonna steal your girls away.”

“He’s welcome to them.” Cade stepped out into the cool, dark night. “Only one girl I want. But I need someone to take up the mantle, otherwise there are a lot of good titles out there that will be lost.”

“How ’bout Hacker?” Sparky tapped the prospect’s laptop. “He’s not much use in the field, but he sure as hell knew his stuff when it came to finding you and getting into that system—”

“Don’t forget the screensaver.” Gunner cut him off. “Pretty damn cool to have our patch on every piece of tech in the clubhouse.”

“Vote,” Jagger called out from his bike. He’d parked between two police cars in a brazen show of sticking it to the cops.

Everyone lifted a hand.

“Hacker it is. Now let’s go save an old lady and kick some Brethren ass. The rest of the brothers are waiting for us.”





TWENTY-SIX

I will let nothing stand in the way of justice. I will never hold back in the pursuit of revenge.

SINNER’S TRIBE CREED

The first notes of White Stripes’ “Icky Thump” filled the room and Dawn stared at Jimmy. After everything that had happened, she was back where she started, except this time she was twenty-six instead of sixteen, and when she danced, it wouldn’t be with fear and humiliation feeding Jimmy’s ego. She had a confidence she’d never felt before. She had people who cared about her. And she had a man who would do anything to keep her safe. But first she had to save herself. But she needed a gun.

Dawn kicked out one leg and twirled around the pole, checking out the room for weapons and an exit. A low hum from the street muffled the pelvic-throbbing beat of the music, and she paused midstep. What was that noise? She looked to the front door and a few bikers did the same.

Thunder? The rev of an engine? The roar of a train?

The sound grew louder.