Zane took a deep breath and walked slowly up the drive. He had texted ahead to make sure Evie was out of the clubhouse and safe at Sparky’s shop when he arrived. He would need a couple of days to heal up and he didn’t want her to see him until he had recovered enough to stand.
“Brothers.” He nodded at the group and tossed the phone to Tank. “Give that to Hacker. I got pictures and videos of the Black Jack clubhouse, roads, grounds, vehicles, terrain … everything you need for the raid. I tried everything I could to get to T-Rex, but they got tighter security than the White House.”
Tank gave him a pained smile. As the second youngest member of the executive board, he’d only sat in on a few disciplinary sessions, and none involving a senior board member. “Will do.”
Zane met Jagger’s gaze full-on, felt the need to exert the small measure of control he had left. “Let’s get this over with.”
Jagger grimaced, his lips thinning into a tight line and he nodded for Gunner, responsible for disciplinary matters, to proceed.
“You disobeyed a direct order to stand down until we could all go after Viper together. Penalty is a kick out or an ass kicking.” Gunner folded his arms across his massive chest. If Zane hadn’t been so sure Jagger would take over the disciplinary session, he might have been more concerned. Gunner’s ass kickings usually involved ambulances, hospital stays, and weeks in bed being attended by the club doctor. Jagger was no lightweight, but he wasn’t Gun.
“You left the clubhouse on club business without letting anyone know where you were going,” Gunner continued. “Penalty is an ass kicking. You put a member of the executive board, namely you, in a fucking shitload of danger. Penalty is a kick out or an ass kicking. Since you brought some useful intel and you got a good history with the club, the board has decided on an ass kicking delivered by Jagger out back at the shooting range.”
“Agreed.” Zane shrugged off his cut, folded it, and handed it to Tank. Then he followed the rest of the board, who had come as witnesses, to the back of the clubhouse.
“I fucking hate you for this,” Jagger murmured as they walked through the long grass. “Last fucking thing I want to do. You couldn’t have waited one damn fucking day?”
“If I’d waited, we would have been slaughtered. They had at least fifty men on the grounds and I think I saw some heavy artillery. They would have blown us up before we even left the main road.”
Jagger exhaled a long breath. “I’ll have to call National about it. Where the hell did they get that kind of weaponry? Once word gets out, the ATF will be breathing down all our necks something fierce. No one will be able to do anything around here.”
Their movement tripped the motion detectors, lighting the vast grass-covered space they used as a shooting range, and for the monthly fights they set up with the local support clubs.
His brothers formed a circle and Zane grabbed Jagger’s arm before stepping inside. “Just so you know. We’re tight.” He didn’t want Jagger to worry that this would affect their friendship. He had gone on the hunt, knowing what waited for him when he returned.
“Thank fuck. Last time you didn’t talk to me for two months.”
Zane walked into a center of the circle, and held his hands behind his back, wrists crossed. “Tie my hands.” He’d learned the hard way that it was impossible not to raise his hands to defend himself, and all that would lead to was a bunch of broken fingers, maybe a broken arm. He wanted his hands working and unbruised so that he could hold Evie again, touch her soft skin and stroke her curves, soothe away the pain.
Gunner tied a rope around his wrists binding them together. “Is she really worth it?”
Zane braced himself when Jagger hauled back, ready for the first punch. “Yeah, brother. She is.”
*
Zane fired a second shot at the target at the end of the grassy lawn behind the clubhouse, missing the center by a good few centimeters. Four days after the beating and he still wasn’t back on his game. Beside him, Arianne laughed. Then she pumped three bullets into the bull’s-eye with a casual flick of her wrist. Damn, Jagger’s old lady was always showing off. Just because Viper had given her a gun at the age of three, didn’t mean she had to rub a guy’s nose in it.
“I still have a few rounds left,” Arianne said. “You want to go again?”
“Better not. Evie’s coming over with Ty and Connie. Ty’s gonna humiliate Hacker again in that game with tanks and Evie and Connie want to shoot some stick downstairs.” He also wasn’t up for another round of humiliation. Yeah, she was Viper’s daughter, but she was a girl. He was a guy. Guys were supposed to shoot better so they could protect their women. Not that Arianne needed protecting, but she usually kept her skills under the radar when Jagger was around. Showing up the VP was one thing, but no one showed up the president.
He lowered his weapon, wincing as his arm brushed over his bruised ribs.
Arianne lifted an eyebrow. “Does Evie know?”