The Sinner life might have been dangerous and chaotic, but it was all we knew. It was family. Community.
Leaving the club behind was like cutting off a limb.
“Just a friend,” I say.
“This late?”
“What’s it to you?” I snap.
“Gracie.” Jack’s voice is low, his focus on his beer instead of me.
Why can’t he look at me?
“I’m tired, Jack. Okay? Let’s wrap this up.”
Axe moves his hand over his mouth and leans back in his chair, his scowl deepening. “Careful how you throw that attitude around, Grace. You’re not a girl anymore, and I’m not as patient as I used to be.”
Right. Axe expects obedience. He’s the Sinner prez, and I’m just the estranged half sister who showed up uninvited. But I’ve had enough. It’s almost four a.m. and I smell like I haven’t showered in three days. And my body hurts from being on mybike for so damn long. I need sleep. Preferably in a bed a little more welcoming than a dirty motel mattress.
“I want this night over,” I grit out. “I’ve been in a cell for hours and I’ve already answered all your questions. Can’t you just respect?—”
“Respect?” Axe tilts his head. “You ain’t been back here in ten years, Gracie. What makes you think you get my respect? Maybe you don’t remember how things work around here, or maybe you think that last name you’re wearing gives you some clout. It doesn’t. This isn’t our daddy’s club anymore, it’s mine.”
Jack sighs. “Forgot you two used to do this. How about we dial back the hostility a little?”
“I will if he will,” I say curtly.
Axe’s jaw ticks. “You wantrespect, you earn it. You can start by dropping the attitude and answering my questions.”
I open my mouth, ready to retort?—
“Don’t.” Jack points at me in warning. One brow cocked, he turns to Axe, who only shrugs, his glare firmly in place.
Jack’s right. It’s always been like this with us. Arguing, bickering, a sprinkle of aggression. Jack somewhere in the middle. Only now, it’s missing the playful undertone that used to come with it. The teasing. Knowing exactly how far I could push. The familiarity is all gone. It disappeared when I did a decade ago.
“A cop put his hands on you,” Jack says. “Bruised up your face. It was a message. We need to respond.”
I blink at him. “You mean retaliate.”
He takes a sip of his beer. “Like you said. Let’s wrap this up.”
I throw Axe a look, but his glare only hardens. Like our father, the current Sinner prez has always been intimidating. It’s a reminder of who he is and the kind of men he leads. And in the last ten years, he’s only grown colder. Harder. Scarier. Probably because he spent six of those years in prison. Despite my desireto go toe to toe with him like I used to, I’m gonna have to be the one who backs down. Axe doesn’t let up. I don’t think he knows how.
With a sigh, I tamp down my attitude and start again.
Flashing lights. A bit of a speed chase. I considered not stopping but thought better of it. Decker. Sergeant Allen. Punch to the gut. Handcuffs. Face meets cruiser door.
“That guy is fucking dead,” Jack growls out.
“Easy, brother,” Axe says. “No one’s killing anyone.” He runs his hand over his mouth, brows pulled together like he’s deep in thought. “And this other cop, Murphy. He’s OPP too?”
Fingers twisted in my lap, I nod. I didn’t mention theinterrogationpart. That part feels… private. Decker might have stopped it, but my skin is still crawling. The unwelcome hands, the rough fingers digging into my arm, the vileness of his words. I can’t shake any of it. It’s like a physical mark on my skin, much like the bruises on my wrists and face.
“They mention why they’re here?” Axe asks.
Sighing, I shake my head.
“Not leaving anything out, are you?”
