Leo struggled to his feet, and Jagger stared at the swinging door. Viper’s daughter? He turned the words over in his mind, but he couldn’t reconcile the woman he’d dropped off at the West Side gas station less than a week ago as the daughter of the vicious, bloodthirsty self-styled biker king of Montana.
Where the fuck had she gone? He’d come over to the bar to protect her, and instead he’d allowed himself to be pulled into a fight with Leo. So unlike him. Still, she wasn’t the kind of woman to stand around, waiting to be rescued. As she’d told him before, she could take care of herself.
He turned to finish off his prisoner, only to realize Leo had slipped away in his moment of self-reflection. Christ. Arianne was beyond distracting. When had he ever lost focus in a fight? He headed around the bar to check out the stockroom, pulling up short when Zane called his name.
“Wheels just got here.” Zane joined him at the door. “He brought reinforcements, but he spotted another bunch of Black Jacks heading this way.” Zane hesitated. “And something else you’re not gonna want to hear…”
“Spit it out.” He needed to get to Arianne. Protect her in case there were Jacks outside. Zane, Cade, and Sparky could organize the Sinners who had since joined the fight.
“It’s Axle. He and his boys are out looking for Vexy. Weasel tipped off Tank, hoping to win his way back into the club. He told Tank that Axle blames Vexy for getting him kicked out of the club. Axle still thinks if he offs her, the brothers will kick you out and vote him in as president.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Jagger pounded his fist on the counter. “Does Axle seriously think the Jacks would vote him in? Or that I would ever let him get his hands on her?” He glanced around the bar. With many bikers now lying on the floor groaning, the fight had lost steam, and no doubt the police would be on their way.
“Have you seen her? She’ll need protection until we deal with Axle.”
“Wheels saw her getting into a cage out back.”
Jagger holstered his weapon and made a mental note to reconsider his reservations about Wheels. Damn prospect was everywhere.
“Tell Gunner to clear our people out of the bar, then meet me out back with Cade. We’ll have to find her. She’s got fucking Black Jacks after her, too.” He paused, reluctant to share her secret, but he’d given in to desire one too many times in the last week—from defending Arianne when he wasn’t certain of her innocence to holding his meeting at her bar—and duty reared its ugly head. “’Course if Axle hurts her, he won’t have just me to deal with. She’s Viper’s daughter.”
“Viper’s daughter? And we let her go?” Zane’s lips pressed thin. “So are we gonna catch her and hold her hostage this time? Maybe get some of the Jacks’ secrets out of her?”
Jagger gave an irritated huff as he rounded the bar and headed toward the stockroom door. “Axle’s actions are our responsibility, and until we deal with him, she’s under our protection. We’ll take her somewhere safe.”
“So now we’re protecting Jacks?”
“Zane…” He paused in front of the door. One word was all the warning he usually needed. Jagger’s best friend since they were five years old, and fiercely protective of those closest to him, Zane was the only person allowed to challenge him, but only when they were alone and only if he thought Jagger had overlooked something fundamentally important.
Which was the case now, apparently, since he kept right on talking.
“What if she’s a plant and the whole thing is a setup?” Zane threw open his hands. “I mean, how did it happen that a bunch of Black Jacks showed up when we were here?” He sidestepped to avoid a pair of grappling bikers as they fell against the bar. “Seems like too much of a coincidence. Maybe she called them. Staged a little drama to see what you’re made of.” He gritted his teeth and his voice came out harsh with emotion, flavored with bitterness. “Women don’t think like we do. They’re conniving and manipulative and can twist a fucking guy in knots without feeling any sort of remorse.”
Jagger slammed open the door, his face hot and pinched with annoyance. “One day, you’re gonna have to tell me what happened to you after I left for the army—’cause those years changed you, made you bitter as hell. Not all women are the same. And this situation has fuck all to do with the fact she’s a woman. We owe her our protection. You’ve overstepped. There’s nothing more to say.” He brushed past Zane and stormed through the stockroom toward the back exit.
“Where do you want to take her?” Zane followed him, seemingly unperturbed by Jagger’s reprimand or his quick dismissal of Zane’s concerns. But that had always been Zane’s way. Even when they were kids, Jagger had never known what Zane was thinking or how he was feeling unless Zane chose to share, which he almost never did.