“Can’t believe you brought her to watch us blow up her daddy’s ice house.” Zane joined Jagger at the top of the rise.
“We were close by. Couldn’t just leave her on the street.” Jagger folded his arms and turned to face his oldest friend. “You got something to say, Zane? I’m here, putting her in danger, because, as always, it is ‘club first.’ That a problem for you?”
Zane held up his hands, palms forward. “Just sayin’ a job like this is no place for a woman. And bringing her here sends a message the boys won’t forget. Just want to make sure it’s the right message goin’ around and not that she’s got you so twisted around her finger, you can’t do what a man’s gotta do without having her by your side.”
“If you weren’t my oldest friend, I’d kick you out of the club for that kind of disrespect.”
Zane laughed. “If you kicked me out every time I said something you didn’t want to hear, I’d have an ass the size of Montana.”
“Clear.” Gunner’s voice carried through the darkness, and Wheels and Bandit scurried back to the field. At Jagger’s nod, Gunner turned on the engine and put the truck in neutral. With the wheel locked in place, the truck took off down the slope, gathering speed as it neared the warehouse.
Jagger felt an unwelcome, familiar heaviness in his chest when the truck slammed through the barbed wire fence and hit the front of the building. A fireball consumed the vehicle, then sheeted over the warehouse, lighting up the darkness. Filled with flammable chemicals, the warehouse didn’t take long to ignite, and within minutes the acrid scent of smoke clouded the air around them.
“Jagger. Look out!” Arianne’s voice rang in the silence, just as the beam of a flashlight cut through the shadows.
Jagger dived behind a bush as the light skimmed over the plateau. Heart pounding, he drew his weapon and rolled back into the bush. More flashlights. Footsteps. He estimated at least ten men. Where had they come from? The rocky outcropping that concealed them from the road and warehouse below would have made them invisible to everyone except those who knew their exact location. And where the fuck was Arianne?
“Find ’em. Kill ’em. If you see Jagger, leave him to me.” The unmistakable rumble of Bear’s deep voice echoed in the darkness.
Rage pumped hot through Jagger’s veins. Was there a rat in the club? Wouldn’t be hard to find out who it was, because the only people who knew about the job were the men with him now. And one woman. A Black Jack woman.
No. From what he knew of Arianne, she wasn’t deceitful. And yet … Bunny … and the paper—
A shot rang out, pinging off the rocks. A scream. Wheels?
He lay flat, heart thudding in his chest, trying to fight back the memories of another ambush, a hot desert, an enemy that felt they had nothing to lose with a fierce, open attack. Taking stock, he noted the positions of his men around the small plateau, concealed in the shadows as the Jacks hunted them blind. There had been no cover for his men in Afghanistan. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. Darkness was their savior, along with the hope the retrieval copter would take out the enemy before they all died.
He caught a flash in the darkness and then another. Someone was foolish enough to run, making himself a moving target silhouetted by the inferno raging below.
Bandit. Damnit. Too green. Too young. Too scared.
“After him.” The shout came from the darkness.
“No.” Arianne exploded from her hiding spot near Jagger’s bike and shot at the Jacks chasing after Bandit.
Jagger took advantage of their confusion, leaping up and shooting into the shadows. From the other side of the clearing, Zane did the same.
He spotted Bear only moments after Bear recognized him. Too late. Pain seared across his arm and he stumbled, dropping to his knee. But when Bear took a step toward him, a bullet shattered the rock beside his feet. Bear turned with a roar.
“Vexy. You betraying little bitch. Thought you were claimed by the Sinners, made a prisoner, but it looks like it was all a fucking setup. You were with them all along. Well, no more.”
A shot. A thud. A whimper. Jagger’s heart skipped a beat and he pushed himself up, searching in the shadows.
Doors slammed. Feet thudded. He heard Cade shout and then the rapid fire of automatic weapons. Cade and T-Rex had come well-armed. Screams in the darkness, and then the Black Jacks beat a hasty retreat.
He found her lying near a rocky outcropping. Motionless. Her gun still in her outstretched hand. For a moment he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his heart pounded in his chest. If she was dead … dead like Christel … dead because of him … because he hadn’t learned his lesson the first time …
“She all right?” Zane clasped his shoulder and knelt down beside him. He knew. Zane always seemed to know when the PTSD kicked in and Jagger lost himself to the ghosts of his past.