The Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club, Books 1-3 by Sarah Castille Page B

about. This time when you go back to the clubhouse, you won’t be coming out again. At least not in one piece.” His lips twisted in a cold leer of a smile. “Not unless you ask me for help. And you know the price.”
    Not a price she was prepared to pay. Arianne stared down the tray and then over at the rowdy group of bikers. Should she bring the tray over and ask for help? Technically she was a Black Jack and MCs as a rule didn’t interfere with the business of other clubs. Given Jagger’s duty was first and foremost to the Sinners, a request for assistance might put him in a difficult position, and her, if he refused.
    And since when had she ever needed help? Arianne grabbed a bottle of Scotch and poured it into Leo’s glass. She still had the .38 strapped to her leg, and Banks kept a .45 in the drawer under the cash register in case of emergency, which this was. Still, Leo wouldn’t have come alone, and if she drew a weapon, civilians might get hurt.
    â€œAt least you remember my favorite drink,” Leo said, after his first sip.
    As if she could forget—the smell of Scotch on his breath as he threw her on the bed that awful night had ruined her for Scotch forever.
    Leo turned thoughtful as he threw back the rest of his drink and shoved toward her. “Viper’s looking for Jeff, too. He might show you some mercy if you give him up. You know where he’s at?”
    â€œI haven’t seen him, and I have nothing to say to Viper.” A sliver of relief shot through her heart. At least Jeff had the sense to stay hidden. She held up the bottle, offering a refill. Maybe if he was drunk, he wouldn’t notice when she slipped out of the bar. “I got there after the fire started. Then someone knocked me off my bike. The Sinners took me. They let me go. End of story.”
    â€œYou forget how well I know you.” Leo reached across the counter and squeezed her fingers around the bottle so hard her eyes watered. “And I can tell when you’re lying.” He released her with a satisfied smirk. “You always thought you were better than me, Vexy. That was always your problem. Too much thinking, not enough fucking.”
    She didn’t know why she felt so bold. Maybe it was because she knew that within the next few days she would be leaving Conundrum for good. Or maybe it was because Jagger was in the corner and he’d almost sliced off a Devil Dog’s fingers for pinching her ass. Whatever the reason, she met his gaze full-on. “I fuck, Leo. Just not with you.”
    Even as the words left her mouth, she knew she would pay a heavy price. And she did. He backhanded her so fast she didn’t have time to defend herself. She staggered back, her head hitting the shelf so hard, bottles crashed to the ground, splintering on the wooden floor in a cacophony of sound.
    â€œFucking bitch. I was trying to be nice, letting you finish your shift, having a little talk. But clearly I was wasting my time. Just ’cause you don’t ride with the Jacks doesn’t mean you aren’t bound by the rules. You’re coming with me now, even if I have to drag you out of here, screaming your little ass off—”
    And then he was gone.
    Arianne blinked, trying to clear her vision as people scattered—Was that … Jagger with his hand around Leo’s neck? Pounding Leo’s head on the counter?
    â€œFucking cowardly piece of shit, beating on a woman.” Jagger’s deep growl reverberated through her body. “Let’s see how you like it.”
    Wham. Wham. Wham.
    â€œCoupla Jacks on their way over.” The heavily muscled blond biker helped Arianne up, then gestured toward the door. “They seem to be takin’ offense to the way you’re treating Leo.”
    Arianne wasn’t surprised they knew who Leo was. The top brass of all the clubs knew each other, if not by sight, then at least by name.
    Jagger scowled.