Last night he’d bound her hands the way Leo once bound them, and then he had made love to her. Sweet, tender love, driving away every fear and every thought except how much she wanted him, needed him, loved him.
Mine. From the moment they met, he had been hers as much as she had been his, but it had taken her until now to understand. Just as it had taken her years to realize she was a biker. And the sooner she stopped denying who she was, the faster she would be able to save Jagger’s life.
“Do you know where he is?”
“I’ll get in a shitloud of trouble, but I can take you there.” Wheels’s eyes glittered and he licked his lips, smiling, a curious reaction given they were likely riding into a situation they might not survive, but one she put down to his lack of experience. Well, she wouldn’t put him at risk. She would send him back as soon as they reached their destination.
And then she would face Viper one last time.
*
“How was your meeting with the sheriff?” Jagger watched a heavily bandaged Gunner ease himself into a chair in the meeting room. Last fucking place he wanted to be after hunting for Arianne all day. He’d posted T-Rex at Banks Bar in case she showed up and sent a few brothers to her apartment and Dawn’s place, but so far no one had called. Where the hell was she?
“Good. Gave him the money we got from trunking to smooth things over. Told him we’d get those weapons back or replacements in the next two weeks.”
Sparky laughed, gesturing to the bandages covering Gunner’s shoulder, chest, and arm. “Gunner played the suffering martyr so well, sayin’ he took the hits to protect the weapons, the sheriff forgot to be pissed off and offered to buy him lunch.”
Jagger couldn’t even force a smile. He had a Mexican cartel riding his ass for the weapons they’d been promised and the reputation of the club was at stake. “We need to get our weapons back. Word on the street is that Axle sold them to the Jacks, which makes two loads of weapons they’ve taken from us. Anyone got a line on a fresh supply to keep our buyers happy?”
“I called in favors two states over but no one has weapons to spare.” Zane leaned back in his chair. “The Koreans aren’t getting a shipment in for at least four more weeks so they can’t help us out.”
“And the Irish have had to cool things off because they’re being watched by the ATF,” Sparky added.
Cade huffed his frustration. “How about the Mexicans?”
“The Pueblos Cartel were our buyers,” Jagger said. “They’ve expanded their drug operation to include the fruit trade and have gained a foothold in Michoacán. They’re trying to control the entire supply of mangoes to the U.S. and they needed the weapons to scare off international importers.”
“Don’t like mangoes.” Gunner wrinkled his nose. “Gimme an apple or banana any day. I eat simple, but tasty.”
“I thought you only ate pussy.” Sparky jabbed him with his elbow and Gunner was already halfway out of his seat before Jagger shut them down with a scowl.
“Enough. We have more important things to discuss than Gunner’s eating habits.”
“Yeah. We also gotta talk about this.” Zane flipped his laptop around, and a picture flashed on the screen. “I have a friend who’s got experience with digital photography. I got him to fill in the missing detail on the surveillance tapes from the night the Jacks burned down our old clubhouse. He did a bang-up job.” He clicked and zoomed in on the scene. Four men were now clearly visible. A blond near the weapons shed, two tall dark-haired Jacks with gas cans near the truck, and another blond-haired man with a load of Sinner weapons in his arms.
“I’m only showing you a few pics. But basically it looks like the truck drove into the yard through the trees. Jeff stayed at the weapons shed and loaded the guns into the truck. He’s the one who shot Gunner. The two tall guys were guards and one of them shot Cole. And this bastard blew up the clubhouse.” He zoomed in on the blond with the gas can. “Anyone recognize him?”
“Wheels!” Gunner spat out the name. “Goddamnit. He’s the fucking rat I’ve been chasing around. I’ve been going through all our data on the brothers, but I hadn’t gotten to him, ’cause he was new and I figured our screening systems are tighter now than they were before.”
A Black Jack rat. In his club. Jagger’s gut twisted. He wasn’t surprised so much as outraged. He’d known something about Wheels wasn’t right, but he’d been too preoccupied with Arianne to heed the warning niggle in his mind. No wonder Viper was always one step ahead of the game. With a roar, he rose from his seat and slammed his fist into the table.
“I want every brother in the club on the road and looking for him.” He gritted the words through clenched teeth as rage suffused every cell in his body. “I want every mark pulled, and word spread to every gang or club we know. But tell them I want him alive. He is going to fucking curse the day he was born when I get my hands—”
A sharp rap on the door cut him off and Jagger scowled. Everyone knew they weren’t to be disturbed during official board meetings.