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

“Let the fun begin.” Zane drew his weapon, and the brothers followed suit.

“Stand down,” Cade ordered, gesturing the brothers back to their bikes. “Zane and I will cover. Everyone out of here now. We’ve done what we came here to do. They know what Rusty did. Even with the possible patch-over, they’ll have been expecting some form of retaliation, although it wasn’t meant to go that far.”

Cade’s heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline crashing through his body in waves. Yeah, he wanted to off that Brethren scum. But tonight wasn’t a good night to die.

*

“You staying for a drink?”

Banks handed Dawn her share of the evening’s tips as she untied her apron. Not a bad night. If she could find more ways to cut costs, she might be able to scrape up another couple hundred dollars for Shelly-Ann. Enough to keep her quiet, at least in the short term.

“I have to get going. I have an early shift tomorrow.” And she wanted to get home and lock her doors tight. Before Jimmy crossed the Conundrum border, she wouldn’t have been concerned, but something spurred him to take the life-or-death risk of coming into town, and she desperately wanted to know what it was. Jimmy only took chances when he knew he would win. She could only hope he wasn’t after the girls.

“Just one drink.” Banks held up a glass. “Then I can finish up and walk you out.”

“Thanks, but I have to run or I’ll miss the last bus.” Usually she caught a ride on the back of Arianne’s motorcycle. Her bestie bartended at Banks Bar four nights a week, and they tried to arrange their shifts so they could work together, but Arianne’s work at the Sinner garage was taking up more and more of her time and she’d cut her shifts this week down to two.

Dawn grabbed her jacket and picked up the trash bags near the stockroom door leading to the parking lot. Although she missed her car, she wouldn’t trade the extra time it had bought her with the girls for anything.

“Don’t like you taking the bus at night,” Banks said.

Dawn put her hand in her purse and pulled out her .22. “I have this to keep me safe. A present from Arianne.”

“Jesus Christ. Put that away before you hurt someone, namely me.” Banks jerked to the side. “Don’t know why Arianne would give you a gun. You aren’t in that life.”

“She gave it to me because that life won’t let me go. And until I get my girls back…”

“You won’t be shooting anyone.” He placed a gentle hand on her wrist, and she lowered the gun. “And I know this first, ’cause I know you got a soft heart; second, ’cause I can see that gun isn’t loaded; and third, ’cause I got faith you’ll find a way to cut Jimmy deep and get back those girls without spilling any blood and landing your pretty ass in jail. You’re a fighter, but not a killer.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She tucked the gun into her purse and zipped up her jacket.

“Meant as one.” Banks twisted his lips to the side, considering. “How about I call you a cab?”

“You don’t give up, do you?” Dawn unlocked the dead bolt on the door leading to the parking lot. “It’ll take at least an hour to get a cab out here at this time of night. The bus is coming in five minutes. I’ll be fine. It’s not like I have far to go.”

“I’ll wait at the bus stop with you,” Banks called out. “Just gimme a minute and I’ll meet you there.”

The door closed behind her and she crossed the deserted parking lot toward the Dumpster. She tossed the bags, and pulled her leather jacket tight around her neck. Where had the warm spring weather gone? This winter had been the longest ever, and she so wasn’t a winter kind of girl. Now, Florida. That was more her style. Her parents had owned a condo on Miami Beach and she’d spent the summers with them building sand castles, learning how to in-line skate, and never appreciating her safe, secure loving world until it disappeared when a drunk driver crossed the median and hit her parents’ car.

She wanted that kind of happy life for her children—a life without stress or fear, a life where they were surrounded by love and laughter, a life where parents kissed you in the morning and didn’t disappear in the afternoon.

Keeping to the lit side of the street, she walked toward the bus stop. The streetlights had been changed out for energy-saving orange a few months ago, giving the area an eerie glow. She reached the crossroad and looked up and down the street. Time to jaywalk. She just couldn’t help breaking the law. Maybe it was genetic. After all, her uncle had broken at least ten different laws the first time he trapped her in the bedroom.

Footsteps rang out behind her, and she turned, half smiling, expecting to see Banks. But her smile faded and her pulse went into overdrive when Jimmy stepped out of the shadows.

“Time to come home, love.”