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

Doreen’s hair was a disheveled mess of blond curls, and her long, angular face was pale and wan. Although taller than both Evie and Connie, her thin frame gave her an almost skeletal appearance save for her generous, perfectly-shaped breasts, which Evie doubted were real.

“I’d let her go, too with a mouth like that,” Connie said. “She puts the Sinners to shame, and since I’ve been hanging around with them, I have to say that’s no easy feat.”

They stood aside as Shooter drove up in a black Chrysler 300C. He left it running and raced around to open the passenger door for Doreen.

“What the fuck is this?” Doreen sneered at Connie and Evie. “A good-bye party from the girl scouts?”

“I’m Evie. I talked to you downstairs.”

Doreen stared at her for a long moment, and then she tilted her head to the side. “You got red hair. And your name … Evie. Is that short for something?”

“Evangeline.”

Doreen’s eyes widened and the look she gave Evie was cold, calculating. “You’re the one Viper wants. No one could figure it out but now I get it. He wants a taste of the other side. Innocence. Soft and sweet. Tell me, little kitten, when he pets your widdle pussy do you purr?”

Evie recoiled, her nose wrinkling in disgust. Doreen laughed and moved toward Shooter, standing by the open door.

“Aren’t you the looker?” She leaned up, her breasts brushing against his chest. “Lucky me. Jagger sent the young blood to take me home. A couple of junior patch and you just gotta be a prospect. Even if it wasn’t written on your cut, I can smell the newness on you.”

Shooter narrowed his eyes. “Back off, bitch.”

Evie had never seen anyone move as fast, but before Shooter could push her away, Doreen yanked one of his weapons from its holster, spun, and held it to Evie’s head.

“Evie!” Connie took a step forward as Hacker and Tank drew their weapons. Doreen pushed Evie in front of her, using her as a shield.

“Don’t come any closer or I’ll off the little kitten right here, right now. Serves Jagger right for sending a buncha boys to do a man’s job.” She gestured to Connie and tipped her chin at the 300C. “Open the passenger door.”

“She has a little boy,” Connie said. “Why don’t you take me?”

“I got a little boy, too, and the Sinners threw me in the fucking dungeon. Kids aren’t part of this.” Doreen ushered Evie into the vehicle, making her climb over the center console to the driver’s seat, seemingly oblivious to the guns trained on her back.

“You’re the one Viper wants,” she said, sliding into the passenger seat beside Evie. “And I’m gonna give you to him all wrapped up with a pretty little bow.”

*

Zane had always wanted to destroy a police car. However, the crunch of glass under his bat, although supremely satisfying, didn’t solve the bigger problem. T-Rex wasn’t free.

“What. The. Fuck?” He slammed the bat on the hood of Benson’s vehicle over and over again until Jagger pulled him away and walked him a few feet down the dirt road near the Black Jack clubhouse.

He was losing it. Big time. But a week of seeing Evie and not being able to touch her, brief conversations about Ty and nothing else, and the possibility of a future limited by the damn warrant over his head, which meant a civilian life with her wasn’t an option, had finally taken their toll. Deputy Benson was damn lucky it was only the car bearing the brunt of Zane’s frustration. After all, he’d just screwed up big-time.

“I told you where the dungeon was.” Zane hefted the bat, and scowled at Benson. “You were supposed to tip off the ATF then go in with our ATF mole.”

Benson had the good grace to look uncomfortable. “I was there. And I still can’t believe Jagger pulled in that favor. Having someone in the ATF in your pocket could have saved you from some real deep shit more than once.”

Wrenching himself out of Jagger’s grasp, Zane stalked across the road where he and a handful of brothers had been hiding, expecting Benson to return with T-Rex. He grabbed Benson by the collar. “You saying T-Rex isn’t worth a favor?”

“Of course not.” Benson struggled to free himself from Zane’s grip. “But it was a waste of a favor because Viper was ready for them. Someone must have tipped him off. The place was virtually empty. There were only a handful of bikes in the parking lot, and I’m pretty sure if the Black Jacks’ attorney hadn’t made mincemeat out of the warrant, they wouldn’t have found any guns or drugs.”

“They woulda found fucking T-Rex,” Zane spat out. “You should have done something. Fucking waste of a mark.”

“Easy, brother.” Jagger loosened Zane’s grip on Benson’s neck. “We’ll find another way.”