She’d watched him for the better part of a year, the ferocity with which he defended Jagger, his total unconcern with being popular on the playground, and the bruises on his face that came and went, until one day his pain drew her in. After she’d tended his wounds, he became her protector, giving her the sense of safety and security she didn’t get at home. And then he’d abandoned her. Just like her parents.
Connie sighed and leaned over the counter, elbows on Evie’s papers, her chin in her hands. “Of course, now that Viper has put us in danger and exposed us to the scourge of the biker world, who happen to be tall, ripped, and devastatingly gorgeous, I’m softening toward him. When do I get my introduction to your old friend?”
“They’re outlaw bikers,” Evie protested. “Jagger had a one percenter patch on his cut. He’s not the boy I knew growing up. He went from fighting for his country to flouting the law, all in the space of nine years.” Although Jagger had come from a broken home—his mother had walked out on him and his dad when Jagger was seven years old—he was the most straight-up person she’d ever known. Zane, on the other hand, had been the risk taker, darkly dangerous and as wild as her. He was the friend most willing to break the rules, the only person who had managed to see the side she kept so carefully hidden.
“If you’re trying to put me off,” Connie said, “you’re doing a bad job. Especially since you have your own bad-boy biker panting after your ass. Maybe we can double date. But if you’re not happy with me going out with your friend, I’ll take that strong, silent dude who came in with him, or their friend, Gunner, who sent us home. I’m desperate. Not fussy.” She left the till and went to help Gene stock the shelves, mouthing over her shoulder, As you can see.
Evie unlocked the front door and turned the sign to OPEN. During the four years she’d been working with Bill, she’d made a name for herself as one of Montana’s top custom motorcycle painters. But she would never have made it without Bill’s help and support, and she was eternally grateful that he’d taken a chance on a fledgling artist, giving her the opportunity to get away from Stanton and a marriage that should never have happened in the first place.
“If Viper finds out about Bill’s scam, he’ll probably be back with his entire MC,” Connie whispered when Evie brought in the last box from the shipment they received that morning, leaving Gene free to return to the mechanic shop out back. “Imagine. Dozens of hard-riding outlaw bikers camped outside our door. It would be Christmas in July.”
Evie placed the box on the stack beside the rack of motorcycle jackets. “More like a slaughter. Bikers don’t like witnesses when they do something bad.”
“They can witness me doing something bad.” Connie raised her voice. “Ain’t that right, Gene? You like a bad girl, don’t you?”
Gene reddened and turned his attention to the sliding doors that separated Evie’s paint shop and the garage from the store. Bill had a senior mechanic and three juniors working out back. Evie did the detail work, and Connie took care of sales out front. Bill handled the illicit gun running, and although his employees knew about it, no one was involved, which turned out to be a good thing when they discovered he was skimming off the top.
“You know what I’m talking about, Gene,” Connie teased. “Friday night. You and me and a bottle of…”
Evie gave her a nudge. “Leave him alone. He might sue us for sexual harassment.”
“Sexual harassment is your hot biker friend walking in the door and me not getting an introduction.” She gestured over Evie’s shoulder. “Look who just came to visit.”
“Jagger!” Evie greeted him with an outstretched hand, and was promptly swept up in his arms.
“Can’t tell you how nice it is to see you again. Too bad it wasn’t under better circumstances.” His deep rumble caught her off guard. He was a man now, not a boy, and the evidence wasn’t just in the breadth of his chest or the lines on his face, but also in the shadows in his eyes. Maybe the life of an outlaw biker wasn’t all it was cut out to be.
“Is this a social visit or are you here to kill someone again?”
Jagger raised an admonishing eyebrow, and she swallowed when her eyes fell on the president patch on his cut. He had always been the leader of their threesome, so she wasn’t surprised to see that he now led the Sinner’s Tribe, and he wore the mantle well. Not many people could say as much with just the lift of a brow. “I came to find out what the hell Axle was doing here, deal with his bike, and visit with you. No shooting today.”
“Excellent.” Connie cleared her throat. “Today isn’t really a good day to die. I have … overdue library books.”
Evie cringed on Connie’s behalf. “Um … this is Connie. Short for Constance.” She made the obligatory introduction and Jagger nodded.
“Pleasure.”
“All mine.” Connie’s cheeks brightened. “Maybe we should all go for a coffee at the restaurant down the road, and get to know each other. Gene can man the till while we’re gone. Well, not really ‘man’ the till, ’cause he’s not really a manly type. More like a boy, since he can’t legally buy alcohol until next year, and he can’t rent a car—”