“Nothing will piss off Jagger more than knowing someone else fucked his girl. And I’m not gonna just fuck her. I’m gonna use her and break her. And then I’ll drop her off at the clubhouse like the Wolverines MC did to his last girl. That will be a message he’ll never forget.”
A cab crawled to a stop across the street. Sheila bent down to talk to the driver. Arianne looked at Axle’s .45, her heart drumming in her chest. After Leo’s attack, she’d spent years in therapy, and as part of the recovery program, she had been required to take self-defense classes. Given the world she lived in, she hadn’t gone for the regular classes that taught basic twist-and-run techniques. She’d taken the courses about disarming attackers wielding knives, handguns, steel pipes, and brass knuckles. Although she’d never really had the chance to put some of the more extreme moves to the test, given that the alternative was getting into the car with Jeff and Axle, she deemed the risk worthwhile.
While Axle was distracted, talking to Jeff, she took a step toward him and grabbed his gun hand at the wrist. Before he could react, she clasped the barrel of the gun and pushed it toward him, rolling it against his thumb until it pointed at him. Another roll and he involuntarily released the gun into her hand. Although it took only moments, the delay seemed like a lifetime, but once she had the gun, she didn’t waste a second. Sprinting across the street, she shouted for Sheila to open the cab door.
Her heart pounded against her ribs as she ran toward the vehicle. Sheila flung open the door and stretched out an arm toward her. Arianne’s bare feet thudded across the pavement. She was close. So close, she could see the chips in Sheila’s red nail polish, the gold ring on her finger with a brilliant blue stone.
And then pain exploded across her arm, and she fell forward, the blue stone fading to black.
TWENTY
The president shall defend club members, property (including chicks), and territory from outside threats.
“Where is she?”
Jagger trod over the broken door and glared at Banks and Dawn. Banks had a gun pointed at his chest and held Dawn protectively behind him.
“You said he’d find her,” Dawn muttered behind Banks back. “You didn’t say he’d kick down my door.”
“I thought he’d knock.”
“Where—is—she?” Jagger stalked toward Banks, disregarding the weapon. He hadn’t paid much attention to the bar owner before, but from his stance and the way he held the gun, it was clear he’d had military training. And that told him Banks wouldn’t fire on him because he wasn’t a threat. At least not if the man told him where to find Arianne.
“She’s asleep in my room.” Dawn gestured to the hallway behind her. “Two women brought her to to the bar in a cab. They said someone had been shooting at her and she’d fallen and hit her head while trying to escape. She wasn’t making much sense, but she was able to ask them to bring her to the bar. The women who brought her gave Banks the full story.”
Safe. She was safe. Jagger just managed to keep himself from sagging against the wall. “Appreciate the call.”
Dawn smiled. “Had a feeling you might want to know.”
“Word of warning.” Banks lowered his weapon when Jagger took a step toward the hallway. “She’s been roughed up a bit. Dawn and I looked after her, but you might want to prepare yourself. Try not to break anything else. I don’t pay Dawn enough for extensive repairs.”
His tension returned tenfold. Rubbing the back of his neck, he stalked down the hallway. But when he reached the bedroom door, he paused. What if she didn’t want to see him? He’d failed her. He had promised to protect her, and instead he’d hurt her, chased her away, and when she needed him most … He clenched his fists. Fuck it. He’d take his chances.
Jagger pushed open the door and stepped into the dimly lit room. Arianne lay asleep on the bed, her hair spread over the pillow in a chestnut wave. From his position in the doorway, she appeared okay. And then he saw the bandage.
With a growl, he flicked the lights on and slammed the door closed. Arianne startled and shot up in bed. “Jagger. God, you scared me.”
No. No. No. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he didn’t think he would be able to contain himself. Her face was bruised on one side, her eye black, a thick white bandage plastered to her temple. His lungs constricted, and although he tried to speak, no words came out.
Soft and sleepy, Arianne gave him a wry smile. “I guess I must look pretty bad. You look like you’re about to explode.”
He pointed to her arm, knowing from the size and shape of the bandage what she would say before he even asked. “What?”
“Bullet.”
A maelstrom of emotions threatened to rip him apart. Needing an outlet, he turned and punched his fist through the door. Could he have failed her anymore?
“Always with the drama.” Resigned amusement tinged her pain-ridden voice.
He whirled back around to face her, his heart pounding so hard, he feared he would break a rib. “Someone shot you?”
“Yeah. That’s usually how someone gets a bullet wound.” Her trembling hands belied her light tone and his voice rose almost to a shout.