“Everyone said you killed my dad, but I didn’t believe them,” she continued. “I said you weren’t a killer. I said the Zane I knew would never do anything like that. You would never hurt me that way. So I waited for you. I thought you’d come back for me. Explain. But you never did.” Her voice tightened with emotion. “How hard would it have been to call or text? How long did you expect me to wait? But that’s not what it was about, was it? You got what you wanted from me and moved on. You hurt me, Zane. You made me realize I didn’t know you at all.”
He would have waited for her forever, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. Not when she was clearly lying to him. “You already had a kid when I came back,” he growled. “So don’t pretend you waited. He was walking for fuck sake. How long was it? One month? Two? Were you seeing him before I left?”
Bile rose in his throat at the thought of her and Mark together. A rising star on the football team, Mark had been sidelined after he was arrested for drunk driving. Zane had warned him away from Evie shortly after he was released on bail. She’d suffered enough with an alcoholic parent. She didn’t need to be dumped back in the cycle again. His Evie deserved better.
Better than Zane.
“No.” All the anger and passion drained out of her and she sagged against the wall, his hand on her wrist seeming to be the only thing that held her up. Evie? Backing down from a fight? Emotion welled up in his chest, an unfamiliar, uncomfortable sensation. He didn’t do emotion. He didn’t do feelings. He’d locked up that side of himself long ago when he became a Sinner and channeled all his energy into the club.
“Evie?”
“Let me go.” Her words were barely a whisper and his anger faded beneath a wave of concern when she tilted her face to look up at him, her eyes pleading. Maybe if he kissed her, the emotions would go away. He would know that there was nothing left between them. He would feel it in his bones. He might even taste Mark on her lips. Then he would finally be able to move on.
Still holding her hand against the door, he gently traced the bow of her mouth with his thumb. As a teenager, he’d dreamed about her ripe, sensual mouth, and when he’d finally kissed her that night by the creek, her lips were softer and sweeter than he had ever imagined.
Her lips parted and she pressed her free hand against his chest, then bunched his shirt in her fist, as if undecided whether she wanted to pull him forward or push him away. Zane took advantage of her indecision to lean closer. She smelled of jasmine and the warm summer nights when they lay in the grass and looked up at the stars. The world faded beneath the pounding of his heart and the raging desire to taste her again.
“Zane. Please…”
But he was already moving, his head dipping down, his body unable to resist the pull of yearning … And then she stiffened and shoved him away.
“Behind you! It’s Axle. He’s got a gun!”
“Leave her alone, Sinner,” Axle shouted. “She’s not yours to take.”
Fucking Axle.
“It’s okay, Axle,” Evie said. “He’s a friend.”
What the fuck?
Axle’s bitter laughter rang out around them. “Not to me, and definitely not to Viper.”
“Don’t move until I turn around.” Zane slid his free hand beneath his cut. “Then get the hell out of here. That your car parked out front?”
Her eyes darted over his shoulder, and then she nodded. “But what about you?”
“I’ll be cleaning up the mess.” His hand closed over the weapon holstered at his side, and he loosened his grip on her wrist. “Ready?”
“Ready. But … you can’t kill him, Zane. He’s not here to … You’re not a…” She choked on the last word, and he knew right then why she hadn’t waited for him. She thought what all of Stanton thought. Zane was nothing. He’d come from nothing. Worthless. No good. And a killer.
Her lack of trust was a sledgehammer to his gut, and the heat between them gave way to a chill that froze his heart.
“Go. I don’t know what the hell is going on with you and the Jacks, but Axle betrayed the Sinners and killed one of my brothers. His life is forfeit and we’ve been after him a long time.”
He spun and fired, covering her escape around the side of the building, but Axle had anticipated his move. He dove behind the shed and returned fire. Unprotected, with nowhere to take cover, Zane pulled the trigger again and again, dodging Axle’s return fire. Bullets pinged off the concrete beside him as he reached for the door. Finally, he felt the smooth surface of the handle beneath his palm. Wrenching the door open, he stepped inside and leaned against the wall to catch his breath.
“You’re going down, Zane!” Axle shouted. “I know you were the one who held the torch that burned off my tat, and you were the one who fucking shot me in the leg up at Whitefish last year. You don’t know whose girl you’re messing with.”
Zane peered out from behind the wall and pumped bullets at the shed. Dammit. Axle had more lives than one hundred frickin’ cats. They’d kicked him out of the club, beaten him, taken his bike, burned off his tat, wounded him in a gunfight, and hunted him relentlessly for over a year all to avenge the disrespect he had done to the Sinners. And he just came back, again and again, first as a thieving contractor, then as a member of the Jacks, and now …