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high-pitched rev of engines, and she clenched her fists against his stomach.
    “Are we going to the Sinner’s Tribe clubhouse?” she shouted.
    But Holt didn’t answer. Instead he leaned low over the bike, and they sped into the night.

 
    THREE
    “Holt, wake up.”
    Holt startled awake, bracing himself for a pain that didn’t come. He stared up into the darkness and frowned. Usually, after he passed out, Viper would throw a bucket of water on him so he could continue with whatever torture he had planned for the evening. Even after Holt had told Viper everything he wanted to know about the Sinners, the sessions continued. Viper got off on Holt’s pain, and only Holt’s fantasies of retribution filled the void when hope fled.
    “Holt.”
    The hands that shook him were small and gentle, the voice soft. He blinked to clear his vision and saw stars overhead, the dark shadow of branches, the silver light of a full moon, bats fluttering overhead. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the scent of pine and the earthy fragrance of the forest. He was free.
    “How do you feel?” Naiya leaned over, frowning. “You crashed the bike.”
    Fuck. He remembered feeling dizzy on the highway, the lines swimming in front of him, panic at the sound of bikes behind them, desperation, determination, turning onto a dirt road, slowing the bike … and then nothing.
    “You okay?” He pushed himself up on his elbows, his gaze taking in the woman kneeling beside him.
    “Just a few scrapes and bruises. I jumped when we started to wobble.”
    “Christ.” He was supposed to be protecting her, not killing her. “What about the Jacks?”
    “They drove past, so we can call it a successful escape. But I think you need food and water and medical attention. I was going to flag someone down on the road and ask them to take us to a hospital.”
    “No hospital.” Definitely no hospital. The kind of injuries he had sustained screamed for police intervention, and even though he intended to leave the biker life behind after he exacted his revenge, he wasn’t about to involve the police in biker affairs. Some lessons couldn’t be unlearned.
    “Sure.” She kneeled beside him and brushed the hair off his face. “I guess the Sinners have their own doctor.”
    “No Sinners.”
    Her face creased in a puzzled frown. “But they’re your club. They’ll want you back. You must want to see them. They probably think you’re dead.”
    Holt lay down again and stared up at the night sky and the stars he had never appreciated until they were gone. The Sinners probably hoped he was dead because when he did show up they would be faced with the repercussions of failing to rescue their brother.
    “We’ll grab a ride to the next town,” he said, acutely aware he hadn’t answered her question. “The guard had a couple hundred dollars in his wallet. Should be enough to get you a motel room. You just lie low for a coupla days until I take care of Viper. “
    A curious look crossed her face, a cross between confusion and disappointment. “I don’t need your money. And I don’t need to stay in a motel. I have friends in Missoula. And … a boyfriend. I can call them and they’ll come and get me. I just thought it would be easier if the Sinners helped me out in case … you know … maybe you don’t succeed. Viper’s not going to let me go. He thinks I owe him a debt.”
    “You don’t need the Sinners,” he assured her. “I’ll deal with Viper. You got my word.”
    Easier said than done. Now that he was free, he questioned his original plan to return to the Black Jack clubhouse and hunt Viper down. With all the guards patrolling the property, he’d never make it within five feet of the gate, much less get up close and personal with Viper in a straight-on assault. Plus he had no strength, no weapons, and no advantage.
    “You’re hardly in a position to go after him,” Naiya said, as if she could read his thoughts.
    Or maybe he did have an