“It’s dark. I heard a noise.”
“I almost shot off your damn head.” Zane tucked his weapon away. “We’re not gonna find him in the dark. Not without more men. I say we regroup at the shop and keep a watch on the road.”
“Agreed.” Jagger lowered his weapon. “But his bike is forfeit. We’ll get it repainted, and give it to Hacker. I promised I’d help him out with a bike after we patched him into the club. He’s still riding that ancient Electra Glide his dad left him. They do painting here. I’ll get Evie to give us a deal.”
“You’re gonna ask a bunch of civilians to paint a stolen bike?” Zane didn’t want any ties with Evie’s shop. He didn’t want a reason to come back. Hell, he didn’t even want a reason to remember this night.
“It’s not stolen. It’s ours.” Jagger laughed. “And it’s not like Axle’s gonna go to the cops and report it missing.”
They walked the rest of the distance to the shop in silence. What the hell was Evie doing here so far from home? Had she and Mark moved to Conundrum? If she’d been his girl, no fucking way would he have allowed her to work in such a deserted location at night. Or in a motorcycle shop which, no doubt, would attract some of the worst elements of society.
Kinda like him.
“You want to talk to her about the detailing?” Jagger pulled open the back door to the shop.
“I think we should stay the hell away from her,” Zane replied. “Let her lead her nice civilian life.” He followed Jagger inside. Did Evie work in the shop or in the store? Had she gone through with her plan to get a Fine Arts degree in college? If so, what the hell was she doing here? And why the fuck did he care?
“I figured that out when you didn’t say hello. And if there’s something you need to tell me, now would be a good time. Otherwise I’m gonna come back tomorrow, have a talk with her about the bike and catch up on her life. You should tag along. After all, you knew her as well as me.”
Better. Intimately. And he was pretty damn sure Jagger didn’t appreciate all the little things that made her Evie: from the soft lilt of her laughter, to her penchant for tight jeans, kick-ass cowboy boots and fringed leather jackets; her risk-taking wild streak that had made his heart pound, to the compassion, that had drawn him in when they were young.
Jagger probably hadn’t noticed that she cried over books and romantic movies, preferred nachos to cake, and never passed an elderly person without smiling and saying hello. His Evie had a big heart. But he’d figured that one out when, at eight years old, she held a wet paper towel over his eye after his father had beaten him one of many terrible nights.
Too bad she had no fucking loyalty and no damn faith.
“I’m pretty sure we won’t find Axle tonight, so I’ll be busy tracking tomorrow,” Zane said. “You go catch up with her. Just … don’t mention me.”
Jagger looked back over his shoulder. “For a man with a string of blood patches on his cut, you’re sounding like a pussy. It’s Evie, dammit. You’re acting like you’re afraid of her.”
“I’m not afraid of Evie.” But he was afraid of himself, and what he might do if he saw her again.
THREE
If you jump into a repair, without planning it through, you will break something. Guaranteed.
—SINNER’S TRIBE MOTORCYCLE REPAIR MANUAL
“Where are the biker hotties today?” Connie Vandenberg, store clerk and Evie’s best friend, tugged down the neck of her black Big Bill’s Custom Motorcycles T-shirt, exposing a few extra inches of her modest cleavage. Gene, one of Bill’s junior mechanics, a thin, lanky man with thick glasses and a perpetual frown, dropped the box of riding gloves he’d just brought out from the stockroom and stared. Which was entirely the point. Connie had hit a dry spell and since Gene was the only unattached man in the store, she’d decided he should be the one to assuage her thirst.
“We already spent an hour talking about your biker love last night when I was supposed to be asleep.” Evie stashed her purse in the secure drawer under the till and tucked her phone in her pocket.
“Sleep? Who could sleep after that tribute to testosterone walked in the door last night?”