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

“I can vouch for you.” Arianne thumped her boots on Dawn’s coffee table. “I’ll tell them she didn’t even bother to show. I’ll even put on civilian clothes so I look civilized.”


Dawn scrubbed her hands over her face. “Thanks, but by the time we jump through all the bureaucratic hoops, it’ll be too late. I tried calling my lawyer last time and we didn’t get an emergency court hearing until Monday morning. It was a waste of time and the legal fees almost broke me.”

“That’s one of the things I like about the outlaw life,” Arianne said. “No hoops to jump through. You want something, you take it, and fuck everyone else.”

“The girls will be so upset.” Dawn sat on the couch beside Arianne. “I’m so worried about them. Especially Tia. She’s withdrawn so much since they moved in with Shelly-Ann. She just watches and lets the world pass her by. Maia’s more resilient. She gets hurt, and then she moves on. And they’re both still wary of men, especially bikers. Well, except Cade. He made quite an impression. Tia called me every night last week to ask if he was going to be at the park again today. It breaks my heart that the one man she wants to see is the kind of man we don’t need in our lives, and someone who doesn’t want to get involved.”

Arianne frowned. “You went on a high-speed chase with him down the highway and had sex in the parking lot. He hunted you down at Banks Bar and dragged you into the restroom for some more kinky loving. Sounds pretty involved to me.”

“Then he left. Walked out of the bar. No good-bye. No explanation. Nothing until morning when he sent a text saying he was in Whitefish on a job, and he’d sent the prospect to watch out for me while he was away.” She took her phone from Arianne and flicked to Cade’s text. Brief. Abrupt. To the point. No hint of warmth or intimacy. “I don’t know where I stand. Is this just sex or something more? If it is, I’m good with that, but then why send the prospect and why all the posturing around Doug?”

“What are you saying? You’d rather be with someone like Doug?”

Dawn’s lips twisted to the side. Doug was honest, stable, and kind, although a little intense about his work. So why hadn’t her knees gone weak or her heart pounded when he came into the bar? Why had her gaze locked on Cade when the biker wannabes started causing trouble?

“And there’s our answer,” Arianne said into the silence. “The good girls always want the bad boys.”

“I’m not that good.” After running away from her abusive uncle only a year after her parents died, Dawn had done what it took to survive on the streets. She had never shared the details of those years with anyone. And she never would.

“You’re better than me,” Arianne said. “Although I heard about your MMA TV marathons with Banks, and how you’re the one shouting for blood. You don’t like violence but you’re attracted to violent men. No wonder you and Cade got together.”

Not that it mattered. Whatever had happened at the bar had put a stop to the runaway roller coaster she and Cade had been riding since they’d met again.

Which was a good thing.

So why did she feel so bad?

“So, what about a plan for seeing your girls?” Arianne stood and walked over to the window. Dawn could see the glint of the prospect’s bike out front, an ancient Harley Classic that was far too big for him but screamed old-school biker.

“What can I do? Nothing. That’s what.” She grabbed the bag of cheesy puffs she’d bought for the girls and ripped it open. No better balm for her sorrow than a kilo of cheese-covered corn snacks. And she had a tub of Crunchy Caramel Cookie ice cream in the freezer …

“Thought you were a fighter.”

“I am a fighter.” She offered Arianne the bag, but as always Arianne passed on the unhealthy treats. So irritating. Her bestie didn’t drown her sorrows in junk food, preferring instead to go running, or cycling, or sprint up a mountain in her bare feet with one hand tied behind her back, which was why she wasn’t packing any extra pounds. Maybe Dawn should do the same. Or maybe she should stick her hand in the garbage disposal, because the pain would be same.

“But this is one fight I don’t think I can win. I’m doing everything I can to get the girls back, but every week she asks for more money. I talked to my lawyer and the social worker, even Doug, but without proof there is nothing they can do.”

“Dammit, Dawn. She’s holding your girls for ransom.”