Sinner's Steel (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #3)

“What are you doing?”


“Thought I’d leave my mark.” Something sharp and feral flashed in his eyes, and then he kissed her, his lips firm and hard. Possessive. “Just in case your Sinner trash doesn’t get the message.”

“Zane? Why would he—?” Her voice caught as Viper turned her around, sliding one arm around her waist and pulling her into his chest in a gesture she didn’t understand until her gaze lifted to the door.

Zane.

“Because he wants what I have.” Viper nuzzled her neck and Zane’s dark eyes hardened.

“Looks like you have to make a choice, kitten,” he said softly. “Choose wisely.”





TEN

Repairing a bike is a long, arduous process. You will require patience, skill, and the proper tools. But mostly patience.

—SINNER’S TRIBE MOTORCYCLE REPAIR MANUAL

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“Hold back, brother.” Jagger put out an arm to stop Zane from drawing his weapon in the middle of the crowded bar. “She came here by choice. Nobody forced her.”

“Fuck, Jag. She just tried to slap him. You saw what he did to her.” He shook off Jagger’s arm and slid his hand into his cut.

“And then she kissed him,” Jagger said, his voice cold. “She’s not screaming for help, brother. Not like when we saved her from Derek the Dick.”

“You’re the one being a dick.” He had never spoken to Jagger that way before, and if they hadn’t been alone, he wouldn’t have dared. But goddamnit. This was Evie. Their Evie. No. His Evie. The mother of his son. And she was in danger.

“Maybe you suddenly got tired of living.” Jagger’s hand tightened on Zane’s arm. “Friend or not, you don’t speak to your president that way, and your president is saying we’re not taking Viper out tonight. Too many witnesses. And Benson texted to warn me the cops are on their way. Despite the disrespect, I’ve gotten used to having you around. You still got a warrant on your head. I don’t want to see you spending the rest of your life in jail.”

Zane’s blood pounded in his ears so loud he could barely hear. Of all the men Evie could have chosen … Or maybe it wasn’t a choice. Maybe Viper had forced her to go out with him. Maybe he was blackmailing her, or worse, threatening her life. There would be no other reason why she would want to be with that evil cockfucking piece of bastard slime who had to be twice her age.

As if he knew what Zane was thinking, Viper locked gazes with Zane over Evie’s head and brushed his lips over her ear. It was a challenge Zane couldn’t ignore.

“This is worse than the night with Derek the Dick.” He closed his hand around the smooth, cool steel of his weapon. He had never understood Evie’s interest in Derek, a high school dropout who fronted a heavy metal band in town. But when she’d blown him and Jagger off to go on a band road trip with Derek and his pals, he hadn’t hesitated to hunt Jagger down and convince him to go after them. They’d almost been too late, and it was the first time in his life he realized he could cross a line not many would cross. Only Evie’s intervention had saved Derek’s life, but he spent three months in the hospital and never played guitar again.

“You think she knows he’s using her as a shield?”

Viper stroked his thumb along the underside of Evie’s breast, and Zane slid the gun from its holster.

“She looks mighty pissed off,” Jagger said. “But I’m not sure if that’s ’cause we’ve caught them together or because he’s feeling her up in front of us.”

Tables emptied around them as the bar owner and his bouncers encouraged people to make use of the back exit so they didn’t get caught in the middle of a biker showdown. The band scurried off the stage. Over in the far corner, a few civilians, most likely off-duty law enforcement from their posture, fatigues, and disregard for the danger of the situation, watched with interest as Viper’s bodyguards fell into position behind him.

“How many brothers we got outside?”

“Five,” Jagger said. “And Tank didn’t see any other Jacks outside, so we’re evenly matched. Your choice, brother. If you want to fight, we got your back, but put the gun away.”

“You aren’t fighting in my bar.” A short, stocky man in a Riverside Bar T-shirt strode into the center of the bar as Zane tucked his gun into his holster. “I’ve already called the cops. Last time we had bikers here, I was shut down for three months. You want to have a shoot-out, take it outside.”

“Not here to fight,” Viper said. “Just here enjoying the music with my girl.”

Mine. In that moment the choice became no choice. Zane couldn’t stand by and watch Evie be manhandled by any man, much less Viper. He closed the distance between them in three quick strides and ripped Viper’s hand away.