Beyond the Cut (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #2)

“I thought you liked him.” Arianne rounded the bar and took up her position behind the polished wood counter.

Dawn grabbed a serving tray from the shelf behind Arianne. “I don’t really know him. We didn’t talk much. We were too busy ripping off each other’s clothes and having sizzling-hot sex in his room at the clubhouse. And both mornings, coward that I am, I sneaked away at daybreak so I didn’t have to tell him to his face I couldn’t see him again.”

“And yet after that first night, you did.” Arianne waved to the first customer in the door. Dawn grabbed her notepad from the counter and stuffed it in her apron.

“But not after the second time.” She turned away so Arianne wouldn’t see the regret on her face. She’d felt something the second time—a longing that tugged at her heart and kept her awake long after Cade had fallen asleep, an inexplicable certainty that nothing and no one would harm her while she lay in his arms.

She’d never felt so safe since her parents died, and the memories of their unconditional love and the good times they shared together—picnics and hikes in the mountains, playing number games with her dad and gardening with her mom—still made her heart ache. With Jimmy, she’d walked a fine line between affection and anger. One wrong step, one misspoken word and he would turn on her, his punishment swift, brutal, and invariably cruel.

She couldn’t afford to have those longings. Dreams, hopes, and desires that did nothing to help get her kids back were a waste of time and energy. A heartbreak waiting to happen. Maybe one day, when she and her girls were together again and living far, far away from Jimmy and the Devil’s Brethren …

“Hey, gorgeous.”

She looked up as T-Rex, the newest full-patch member of the Sinners, joined them at the bar. Tall, blond, and built like a linebacker, with a broad face and a warm smile, T-Rex was a favorite in the club, and one of the few bikers who didn’t set Dawn’s teeth on edge. And that was saying something.

“Corona. Cold. No lime. No glass.” Dawn rattled off his drink as T-Rex sat on one of the bar stools and chuckled.

“Damn. Don’t know how you do that, but you impress the brothers every time they stop by for a drink. Even if Cade hadn’t laid down the law, they wouldn’t be cracking blonde jokes about you.”

Dawn froze, her hand outstretched for the bottle Arianne was opening. “What do you mean, he laid down the law?” After she’d made it clear to Cade she wasn’t interested in seeing him again, he’d respected her wishes and stayed away. She’d assumed he had found someone new, likely one of the club’s sweet butts. Lower than old ladies and house mamas in the biker hierarchy, the young women who hung around the clubhouse, helping out and offering their services in return for food, shelter, and protection, were desperate to find a biker who would make them an old lady. And Cade, handsome, charming, unattached, and always willing, was quite the catch.

T-Rex’s eyes widened, his usually affable expression turning to wariness. “You know.”

“I don’t know, or I wouldn’t have asked.”

“Well…” He coughed and looked around, but there were no other Sinners in the bar to save him. “He kinda … you know … warned the brothers away. Said you were his, ’cept you were wanting to take things slow. So no one was to touch you, hit on you, or disrespect you if they saw you at the bar or if you came with Arianne to our parties.”

Dawn shot T-Rex an incredulous look. “Seriously? Except for this afternoon, it’s been over a year since I’ve seen him. How slow do the brothers think I want to take it?”

“You saw Cade this afternoon?”

“Yeah.”

“You tell Jagger?”

Puzzled, she frowned. “Why would I tell Jagger?”

But T-Rex already had his cell in his hand. “We’re supposed to call in if we see Cade or hear anything about him. He sent a text to Jagger saying he was up at a warehouse in the North West checking out a Brethren sighting. He didn’t report back. I figured he probably just hooked up with some chick and…” He cut himself off with a grimace. “Sorry.”

“No problem. It’s not like we’re together. I’m sure he was with some ‘chick.’” But she wasn’t so sure. Could Jimmy have hurt Cade? Although Jimmy hadn’t made any effort to drag her back to the clubhouse after she ran away—he had someone new to warm his bed the next day—he’d told her through Shelly-Ann he would kill anyone who touched her. And Jimmy wasn’t one to make idle threats.

“Actually…” She hesitated, not wanting to share her business, but sufficiently concerned to give him the most relevant information. “He saw Jimmy ‘Mad Dog’ Sanchez, VP of the Devil’s Brethren, outside St. Francis Xavier’s School about three-thirty this afternoon and went chasing after him. They headed north on Twenty-Seventh Avenue.”