HE'S HELL
ON WHEELS.
Tall, dark, and dangerously handsome, Zane
"Tracker" Colter is the strong, silent type of tattooed muscle biker
who drives women wild. But as a master of strategy for the outlaw MC club,
Sinner's Tribe, he doesn't have time to play around with groupies and biker
chicks-especially when he can't stop thinking about Evie, the girl who got
away...
SHE'S
PLAYING WITH FIRE.
Evie's been in love with Zane ever since they were
children-until he broke her heart and disappeared. Now he's back in her life,
bigger and badder than ever. Zane is stunned by how beautiful and confident
Evie's become, using her artistic talent to customize motorcycles. He wants her
so bad, he'd ride through fire to win her back. There's one problem: Evie is
dating his deadliest rival-the leader of the Black Jacks-and if Evie and Zane
hook up, there'll be hell to pay... in Sinner's
Steel.
Excerpt
“Take off your clothes.” Evie leaned
against Zane’s bedroom door, more for support than a means of escape.
“Evie . . .”
A growl curled in her throat, her
anger growing as she realized this was the beginning of the end. Once she saw
what was under his shirt, there would be no going back. “Take them off. I want
to see what he did to you.”
He pulled his shirt over his head
and tossed it on the bed, then he stripped down to his boxers. Her legs
trembled as her gaze swept over his body, starting at his feet, her strength
leaving her as she took in the discolored skin on his shins and thighs, the
cuts on his wrists, and then gave out when she saw the full extent of his
bruised and lacerated torso.
Her beautiful Zane.
She sank down to the floor, wrapped
her arms around her legs and buried her head and sobbed, the grief ripping her
apart inside. Tears spilled down her cheeks dripping on the floor with each
ragged inhale. She cried not just for him, but for them, and the knowledge they
could never be together.
“Fuck.” Zane’s voice was harsh, raw
as he crossed the room to kneel beside her. “Sweetheart, it’s not as bad as it
looks.”
She shook her head, held herself
tighter, unable to speak for the images spinning around in her mind. Jagger had
no bruises on his body. That guilty look on his face when he’d come into the
shop . . . the marks on Zane’s wrists.
Zane hadn’t fought back. His hands
were tied and he hadn’t fought back.
“Let me explain.” He cradled her in
his arms, as if she was the one hurting. She supposed, in a way, she was.
“There’s nothing to say that could
make this acceptable to me.” Evie sniffed back her tears. “I can’t do this,
Zane. Seeing you like this is tearing me apart. I’ll never be able to forgive
Jagger, never forget what he did to you. I won’t even pretend to understand how
you agreed to it. The fact that you live in a world where this kind of thing
goes on is bad enough, but on top of it . . . your patches . . . blood . . .”
“I’ll leave.” Simple words and yet
they weighed heavy on her heart.
“I don’t want you to leave.” She
held herself stiff, afraid to touch his battered body. “This club means
everything to you. That you would take that beating from your best friend tells
me how much you love this life. You would hate me every day for taking you away
from it.”
“I love you more,” he said. “I have
always loved you. I’ve lived my life in the shadows because I couldn’t let you
go.” He drew in a ragged breath, brushed his lips over her hair. “I can’t lose
you now. I went looking for Viper because I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
She struggled to sit, pushed herself
to standing. “I can’t bear the thought of losing you either, but I don’t even
know who I am anymore. All I know is that I’ve been stupidly naive, and this
life you lead isn’t for me. I want to be with you, but I don’t see how this can
work.”
His face smoothed, eyes darkened.
Even now she knew him so well, she could see his emotional retreat.
She closed her fist and hit it to
her breast, her eyes stinging with tears all over again. “It hurts me to see
you in pain. It hurts me to think of you suffering. It hurts me to think of you
in such danger that you have to take a life. I’ve spent my whole life hurting
because I wanted you and couldn’t have you. I just can’t take the hurting
anymore. I love you, Zane, but it hurts just too damn bad, and now you’re
taking risks for me that could get you killed. I don’t want that. Even if we
can’t be together, I need to know you’re alive and happy and doing what you
love to do.”
His voice, when he spoke, was thick
with pain. “You want to walk away? What about Ty?”
“I don’t know.” God, why couldn’t
she stop crying? “I need some time to think about it. He adores you. He’s so
happy to have you in his life, I can’t take that away from him.”
She turned, reached for the door,
but it felt too wrong. Unfinished. There was something she needed to do.
“Will you let me do something for
you before I go?”
“Anything.”
She gestured to his bruised,
battered body. “You did this for me. I want to give something back. I want to
take care of you so when I leave I’ll know you’re going to be okay.”
***
Pain.
His life was all about pain.
And yet the pain in his body was
nothing compared to the pain in his heart. Zane’s hand clenched on his breast.
If he could rip his damn heart out of his chest he would. Go back to the
darkness that had sustained him for the last nine years, back to the shadows.
Out of the damn light.
He heard the rush of water in the
shower from the en suite bathroom, a luxury afforded only the senior patch
brothers who kept rooms at the clubhouse, but he couldn’t go in. He was too
wound up, too out of control, too damn emotional.
What else could he do? He had meant
every word when he told her he would fight to be with her. He just hadn’t
realized she would be the one standing in his way.
With a roar, he thudded his fist
against the wall. His hands were about the only place on his body that wasn’t
bruised. Might as remedy that problem because he had saved them for nothing.
When he felt no release from his
assault on the wall, he ripped a drawer from the dresser and smashed it on the
ground. Clothes flew across the room and the wood cracked and splintered. Like
his heart.
“Zane!”
But now that the floodgates had
opened, he couldn’t stop. He lifted the drawer and smashed it down again, his
aching muscles protesting the impact. “Do you want him, Evie? Is that it? Is
that what this is all about?” He knew it was ludicrous. She had seen who Viper
was, but he needed a reason, something he could change.
“No, baby. You know that’s not true.
Now come let me wash you and look after those cuts and bruises.”
Smash. Smash. Smash.
He tore the drawer apart. He loved her compassion and yet he hated it if it
meant the last time he touched her he would be in pain.
“I’ll shower with you so I can look
after you properly.” She clasped the bottom of her T-shirt and tugged it over
her head. Zane froze mid-strike, his primal instincts sharpening at the sight
of her skin and her beautiful breasts encased in blue satin.
“I don’t want your help.” He threw
the remnants of the drawer across the room.
“Too bad. And if you can’t it for
you, then do it for me.” Evie undid the bra and tossed it on the bed with her
shirt. “It will make me . . . feel better.” She slid her jeans and panties over
her hips and then kicked them off. Gloriously naked, quietly confident,
undaunted by his rage, she turned into the bathroom. “Come on.”
Zane’s body shook, torn between
going after his woman and unleashing his frustrations on the rest of the
furniture.
Don’t go in. He
knew what would happen if he followed her, and it wouldn’t involve standing
still while she treated his wounds. And with his heart raw and exposed, he
didn’t think he could handle that level of intimacy without totally losing control.
With a growl, he ripped out another drawer, and hammered it against the wall
until it shattered, pieces flying in all directions. Exhausted, he sank down on
the bed, the ruins of the drawers scattered at his feet, his muscles quivering
at the exertion. He could hear the shower behind him, feel the breath of steam,
smell the floral fragrance of shampoo.
Evie.
Loves me.
Leaving me.
Overwhelmed with the need to touch
her, he stripped off his clothes, all thoughts of staying away forgotten
beneath the desire to hold her in his arms one last time.
Evie turned when he stepped into the
shower, rivulets of water streaming over her beautiful body. “Took you long
enough. Did you break all the drawers?”
Words deserted him. He took her in
his arms and held her against him.
“It’s okay,” she murmured against
his chest, her arms tightening around him. “We’ll be okay.”
He didn’t know how long they stood
under the warm water, but his heart finally slowed its frenetic beat and the
tension eased from his body.
“You’re mine.”
“And you’re mine. That won’t
change.” She slid her hands up his chest ever so gently to circle his neck.
She was right about that. Nothing
wouldn’t change. He would find a way. He would fight for her until he couldn’t
fight anymore.
Buy Links
The Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club Series
Reading Order
Rough Justice (Book One)
Beyond the Cut (Book Two)
New York Times and USA
Today bestselling author Sarah Castille worked and travelled abroad before
trading her briefcase and stilettos for a handful of magic beans and a home
near the Canadian Rockies. She writes contemporary erotic romance and romantic
suspense featuring blazingly hot alpha heroes and the women who tame them. Her
books include the bestselling “Redemption” fighter romance series, and the
dark, gritty Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club romance series.
Stalk Sarah Here
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