Max returned with the stick and Jagger threw it again, watching it disappear into the cool morning mist. The air was fragrant with the scent of rich earth, and dew clung to every leaf and blade of grass. Mornings were his favorite time. Quiet. Peaceful. With all the promise of the day ahead.
He looked up at the window to the bedroom he had shared with Arianne, half expecting to see her sliding down the roof. But with two guards outside her door and two more outside the building’s entrance, she would be going nowhere fast. He chuckled as a memory tore through him: Arianne wearing only his T-shirt, shivering by the window, beguiled by the loquacious Wheels and the effervescent Sherry as they thwarted her attempt to escape.
He should have warned her that no one ever escaped from the Sinners.
Or from him.
The soft thud of footsteps on grass and the rustle of autumn leaves alerted him to Cade’s presence well before his former army buddy joined him on the front lawn. As the MC’s treasurer, Cade carried out his duties with ruthless efficiency, and like Zane, he always had Jagger’s back.
Cade gave him a quick update on the status of the old clubhouse and the local authorities’ investigation into the fire. Then he glanced up at Arianne’s window, smirking at the guards stationed below. “So, what are you going to do with her?”
“I’m waiting to see the surveillance tapes,” Jagger said. “Zane picked them up this morning from the off-site data-storage facility. If she’s not directly involved, I’ll let her go. I won’t hold a woman responsible for the actions of her club.”
Cade tunnelled his hand through his thick, blond hair, his brow creasing. “How do you know it was the Jacks?”
Jagger pulled out his phone and showed Cade a picture he’d received from his contact in the police department. Someone had spray painted a crude outline of the Black Jacks’ patch on the side of the weapons shed that had been robbed. “They left a calling card. Most of the brothers who weren’t drowning their sorrows in some sweet butt’s arms last night have already been told.”
Cade didn’t react to the silent admonition. No doubt he’d spent the night just as Jagger had said. Cade was known for his ability to charm women into his bed. Sherry claimed his chick magnet appeal had to do with his appearance, likening him to some movie star who’d played the part of the Norse god, Thor. Jagger didn’t have time for movies. Or movie stars. Or brothers who spent the night buried between some sweet butt’s thighs instead of worrying about the loss of their clubhouse, the end of the feud, and a little Black Jack who couldn’t be touched.
“Gotta get back.” He gestured toward the house, and Cade fell into step, Max trotting beside them.
“I was wondering why Axle was gunning for Arianne to pay the price this morning,” Cade said, oblivious to Jagger’s annoyance. “Tensions are high right now and he’s already got a lot of support. The fire hit too close to home.”
“It was home.” At least for him and Cade, and a few of the unattached brothers who were out of work or needed a temporary place to stay.
“They need someone to blame.” Cade hesitated. “If they don’t get a focus for their anger, the club will explode.”
Was he seriously suggesting offering Arianne up as a sacrificial lamb? “And it’s Gunner’s job to make sure that doesn’t happen.” A burst of protective anger caught him off guard. “She said she wasn’t there to hurt anyone or cause any damage. I believe her.”
Although ultimately evasive, Arianne’s answer to that question had been delivered firmly and directly. No waver of the voice. No shifting of the eyes. He suspected deception wasn’t in her nature. Hell, she’d given it to him straight when he cuffed her. His lips quivered with a repressed smile. When was the last time anyone had dared speak to him that way?
Cade rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, then I hope you have a plan for retribution that might ease the pain of just letting her go.”
“I always have a plan.” Jagger whistled for Max. “And you’ll like this one. It involves runaway trucks, explosives, and destroying meth factories.”
“You’ll definitely need Axle on board, then. No one is better with explosives than him.”
“Axle’s done,” Jagger said. “For the sake of appearances, I’ll put the vote to the executive board later this morning, but as far as I’m concerned, he’s out of the club. He’s been pushing the boundaries ever since I took over as president, five years ago, and last night he went too far.”
“Guess I’ll let Zane know Axle won’t be trunking with us tonight.” Cade stopped walking before they came within earshot of the house. “You got a victim in mind?”
Jagger’s tension eased. “Zane got the goods on a dealer who seems to have forgotten about our zero-tolerance policy for drugs in Conundrum.” He finally allowed himself the luxury of a smile. “We’ll have a little fun, raise some cash to fix this place up as our new clubhouse, and damage the Black Jack supply chain all at once.”