“The patch won’t solve the problem.” Arianne scrubbed her free hand over her face. “You need rehab, therapy, someone who can figure out why you started in the first place and why you can’t quit. And you need to get away from Viper. You’re an artist, not a biker.”
Jeff huffed his annoyance. “I need guns, and if you aren’t going to help me take them from the Sinners, then you’ll need to go see Bunny. He works out of his pool hall at the corner of Forty-seventh and Main. He’s a man who can get things, but he charges a premium and he only deals in person. I can’t break cover to meet him, ’cause Viper’s got spies everywhere.”
“What about payment?” Jeff had no job. No source of income other than what he earned working for the Jacks. How the hell would he finance the purchase?
“I’ll come up with something.”
“Fine,” she said in a resigned monotone. “I’ll see what I can do.” Meet with Bunny or steal from Jagger? Her only other option was to work and save for a year to buy another passport. But a year was a long time to wait when she wanted to start her new life now. Sure, she could cross the border as a tourist, but eventually the immigration authorities would find her and kick her out. She wanted everything legit and the passport would allow her to live and work without fear of having her new life ripped away.
“Whatever you do, make sure it’s fast.” Jeff’s voice rose in warning. “Viper’s coming for me—and if he finds me, it won’t be pretty.”
After ending the call, Arianne sank to the floor, heedless of the filth around her, and buried her head in her arms. For a long time, she just stared at the dusty grey tiles. Her insides churned, her head throbbed, and a black hole had opened in the center of her chest. She wanted to call Dawn, but it was three o’clock and she knew her bestie never answered her phone between three and four in the afternoon and eight and nine in the morning. Her “sacred hours,” as she called them.
What the hell was she going to do?
Bang.
The door bowed with the force of a blow, and her brain finally registered that the thumps and shouting outside had been going on for a while. Before she could get up, the door splintered and crashed to the ground.
“What’s going on?” Jagger stood in the doorway, the scowl on his face softening into concern when he met her gaze. Sparky, Tank, and Wheels stood behind him. She tried to imagine how she looked, curled up in the corner of a filthy bathroom in her coveralls, tears and grease streaking her face.
“Nothing.” Thoughts scrambling, she pushed herself to standing. One thing she’d learned from Viper was never to show her weakness, and right now, it was all hanging out. “I’m good. Just taking a break.” She brushed past him and stepped into the hallway, but before she could walk away, he grabbed her shoulder and waved the brothers away.
“I’ll ask again. What’s going on?”
“And I’ll say again,” she said. “Nothing. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a bike to fix.”
He wiped a tear off her cheek with his thumb. “This isn’t nothing. I heard you talking. Who was on the phone?”
“Why the fuck do you care?” She snapped at him, mindful of keeping her voice low, but needing an outlet for her frustration. “I haven’t seen you for four days. No one will tell me what’s going on, whether you found Axle, or how long you expect me to stay here. I have a life to get on with. I have a job. Banks has been understanding, but—”
He cut her off with a kiss, soft and sweet. The tears she’d been holding back leaked from her eyes and she pulled away. “Don’t.”
But he didn’t listen. Instead he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again, this time starting with the tears.
“Jagger.” And then she was kissing him back with four days’ worth of longing, and half an hour of heartbreak, tasting the salt on his skin and the coffee on his lips, soaking in the heat of his strong body, wishing she could drown in him until all the pain went away.
“Been thinking about you every minute of every day since I dropped you off.” He backed her up to the wall, leaning his forearms on either side of her head. “I just spent the afternoon beating the crap outta one of Axle’s men, and I couldn’t get you out of my mind.”
“That’s sweet in a twisted, outlaw-biker kinda way.” She slid her hands over his broad chest, placing them on his shoulders. “Did you catch Axle?”
“No, but we know where he is.”
She leaned up to nuzzle his neck, inhaling the sharp tang of his cologne and the earthy scent of leather. Always leather. “Shouldn’t you be out there, chasing after him?”
Jagger growled, the sound vibrating through her body. “No. I should be here, stripping off your clothes and running my hands over your body, worshipping you with my mouth, and fucking you till you scream.” He curled his upper lip, baring his teeth. “But we got a bigger problem than Axle, which is why I came. Viper knows you’re here.”