“Jeff. No.” Arianne stepped forward. “You’re not a killer. You don’t have to do this. Once you cross that line—”
“Shut it, girl.” Viper cut her off, then glared at Jeff. “You wanna be a Jack? Then act like one. Not one of my boys would hesitate to pull the trigger. Hell, your sister would do it. Wouldn’t blink an eye. You ever wonder why she got patches and you didn’t? ’Cause you don’t have her balls. Show me you’re better than a fucking girl. Make me proud. Earn your colors, or prove you really are the pussy I always thought you were.”
“But…” His pleading glance sliced through Jagger’s heart, but Viper was unmoved.
“Pussy.”
Jagger’s skin crawled with loathing as Jeff raised his weapon with a shaking hand. Fucking bastard goading his own son. And the innocent on the ground.… But what could he do? He had rejected the prisoner, so by rights the man belonged to Viper. What happened to him was Black Jack business, and if Jagger got involved, the Jacks could retaliate. With everyone armed and already on edge, interference on his part could lead to a fucking disaster. He would be putting his men at risk.
Viper snarled. “Three seconds, boy, or you’ll never get those colors.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He couldn’t let an innocent man die. Jagger drew his weapon and pointed it at Jeff. “Let him—”
Crack. The sound of the bullet tore through the silence, sending crows squawking and flapping in the air. Jeff’s hand dropped, the gun hanging from his finger, his face contorted in anguished despair.
“No.” Arianne shrieked and took a step forward, but Jagger held her back. Too late. They were both too late. And if she went to Viper now, the poor soul on the grass would have died for nothing.
“Problem solved.” Viper glanced over at Arianne. “Come, girl.” He snapped his fingers and pointed at the ground beside him.
Arianne didn’t move, her gaze fixed on Jeff, her face reflecting his despair.
“Jesus, bitch. You never listen.” Viper took two quick strides toward Arianne, fingers outstretched as if to grab her. Arianne stepped back, closer to Jagger, her hand flying to Jagger’s arm to rest at the crook of his elbow.
And in that second, everything changed.
Mine.
Her small, unconscious gesture, a statement of trust that he would keep his word, keep her safe, roused in him a protectiveness so fierce, he was powerless to stop his reaction. Shifting his stance, he positioned himself between Arianne and Viper, shielding her with his body as he met Viper’s furious glare.
“Black Jacks broke the truce,” Jagger snapped. “I lost a clubhouse and a good man.” He looked back over his shoulder and lifted his chin in Arianne’s direction. “Now I got compensation. Since she’s your daughter, I’ll call it even. I claim her as the blood price for the debt you owe us.”
Beside him, Zane hissed his disapproval, but Jagger had made his decision. He had, in fact, made the decision when he’d first received the call from Viper about the meet. But the part of him that put duty above everything else, coupled with Arianne’s insistence that she was going to the exchange, had almost convinced him he would be able to give her up.
Growls and a buzz of anger rippled through the Black Jacks.
Leo’s brow furrowed and he scratched his head. “Viper’s daughter?”
“Yes.”
“You’re taking Viper’s daughter as a blood price?” His voice rose in disbelief. “You gonna kill her?”
“She’s mine. If I want to kill her, I will. If I want to keep her as a house mama, I’ll do that, instead.” And then, because he knew Leo wanted Arianne, and Viper was already bearing down on him, he said, “And if I want to use her, I’ll keep her chained to my bed.”
Arianne clutched his arm, anger radiating off her in waves, but she stayed silent. Jagger let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. She understood he was saving her from whatever punishment lay in store if Viper thought she’d gone with him of her own volition. And he was giving her a way out. They had both been aware of the risk that night on the roadside. As she’d said, she had a choice. And she’d chosen him.
“Take her.” He shoved her back toward Gunner and was ready when Viper struck. He had already braced himself for the blow. But he hadn’t anticipated the flickblade Viper had concealed in his palm. The blade sliced through the front of his shirt, leaving a gash four inches across. Jagger grunted at the pain in his chest and grabbed Viper’s wrist, twisting it back and away until the knife dropped and they faced each other man-to-man.
“She’s dead to you.” Jagger spat out the words as Sinners and Jacks threw themselves into the fray. “You don’t touch her. You don’t look at her. You don’t call her. You don’t hunt her. She belongs to me.”
Viper jeered. “You’re thinking with your dick, boy. Are the lives of your men worth a bit of pussy?”