“Then I guess you gotta call up all the girls you’ve been with and ask them if they’ve got the hots for Viper. Or you could just wait for Viper to take you out, ’cause he knows you touched her, and he doesn’t like anyone messing with his property.”
His property? But how could Evie be with Viper? He was the antithesis of everything Evie stood for—a normal, comfortable civilian life. It made no sense. She had her son and a job and a life in Conundrum. From what he could see, she was happy. No way would Evie go out with an outlaw biker. Or was she still after the adrenaline rush she’d used to fill the emptiness in her life?
“Well then he’ll be happy to pay to see your pretty face again.” Zane folded his arms and leaned against the brick wall. The alley had the same sickly sweet disinfectant scent of the morgue, and his nose wrinkled. Death definitely had a smell. “How about you give us some more information about this woman I have that Viper wants, and I’ll give you my word you’ll make it through this alive?”
“Viper gave me his word, too.” Her bottom lip trembled, belying her bravado. “He said he’d let me go after Axle died. Instead I got this cut and the pleasure of being chained to his bed.”
Zane smoothed his face, hiding his surprise. An old lady cut was akin to a civilian wedding ring, a sign of commitment, not bondage. “I’ve never broken my word.”
She studied him intently and then she smirked. “The redhead from Big Bill’s shop. Only reason I came to Conundrum today is because Viper is away tonight. He’s meeting her at a bar in Red River, since he can’t come into town.”
He didn’t need to look at Jagger. They’d been through this drill before. Protecting Evie. It was what they had always done. “Jag, you got Evie’s number?”
“I’m on it.” Jagger bashed the screen on his phone, waited. “No answer.”
“I’ll head out to Red River.” He walked down the alley, his heart thudding in his chest. Evie and Viper. Christ. And he’d thought Mark was no good for her.
“Gun can take over here. I’ll go check Evie’s house.” Jagger hesitated, called out. “Zane … she might not be happy to see us.”
Zane kept walking. “She never was, but we saved her anyway.”
EIGHT
Things are going to go wrong when you’re dealing with complex machinery. Don’t give up. Just do a better job each time you try.
—SINNER’S TRIBE MOTORCYCLE REPAIR MANUAL
“Well, look at you.” Connie looked over her shoulder from her seat on Evie’s couch and put down her video game controller. Beside her, Ty groaned.
“You’re dead. Now I have to reset.”
Evie grimaced at Connie’s slow perusal of her date-night outfit, a sleeveless black sheath dress that buttoned up the back, knee-high boots, a silver chain belt, and chunky silver earrings. The neckline of the dress dipped low, but not too low, showing only a hint of cleavage.
“Nice with a naughty twist,” Connie concluded. “Old Vipe’s gonna have a heart attack when he sees you. But then that’s the problem with dating an old man.”
“He’s in his mid-forties. That’s not old. He was in his late teens when his daughter, Arianne, was born. Same age as I was when I had Ty.” She straightened a pile of magazines on the glass table behind the couch. She and Ty had chosen glass and beige leather when they decorated the living room to brighten up the small space. Ty had picked out a few shaggy beige cushions and a matching area rug that were a nightmare to clean, but he said they reminded him of the sheep from his favorite video game, and she didn’t have the heart to refuse.
“Maybe he’s after you because he’s having a midlife crisis.” Connie picked up her controller, turning her focus to the screen. “Although what do bikers do when they have a midlife crisis? They already have the young girls, fast cars, and hot bikes. Maybe they buy a minivan and waist-high jeans, slip on some socks and sandals, get an office job, and start mowing the lawn.”
“You’re dead again, Connie.” Ty fist pumped the air. “You want to start again or play something else?”
Connie stood and ruffled his hair. “How about a board game? You know about those things? From the prehistoric age? They don’t have a controller and no one dies a painful death, especially me. Just good, clean, old fashioned fun.”
“I think I’ve got one of those.”
“Now who’s sounding old?” Evie laughed as Ty raced to his room.
“Wish I was coming along on your date,” Connie said wistfully. “My dry spell is getting drier every day and I’m guessing Vipe’s not gonna show without his mouthwatering biker posse to keep him safe. Maybe I could have some Black Jack fun. Although Tank was kinda cute. And he gave me his number.”