The Outlaw's Obsession (5 page)

“She one of Trick’s club whores?” another man asked.

Sonya opened her mouth, but nothing came out, and instead that dizziness intensified, and the feel of something warm sliding along her arm had her looking down. A bright red trail of blood made its way from her shoulder, and continued descending until it dripped from her fingertips to the ground.

“Fuck. She’s been shot.”

The dizziness slammed into her harder and harder, and then she felt the world tilt. She didn’t know who was speaking, but right now she didn’t care.

“Christ, she’s going down.” The man she felt this connection with spoke again, his voice so deep and rough, like a serrated blade moving along her body, wasn’t enough to keep the darkness away. But Sonya didn’t want to fight it. At least she could say she had tried leaving, even if death had been an inevitable outcome in the MC life.

Chapter Four

“What do you want to do with her,
Prez
?”

Jagger stared at the female currently lying on the bed in one of the spare rooms at their clubhouse. He rolled Diesel’s words around in his head. Her shirt had been cut off so Court—the only one of them that had any kind of medical training—could take a look at the gunshot wound on her shoulder. Although they all knew how to patch themselves
up,
and in fact had to know that shit living this kind of life, Court actually had some first aid training.

“I don’t know. It’s obvious she was scared as hell, and it wasn’t because we were standing right there.” And that was the truth. She was clearly involved with Trick’s club or she wouldn’t have been there, but how deep did she go? His instincts told him she wasn’t just a club whore, not with the way she had been fully clothed, or the scent of strength she had emitted when she stood right in front of him after he and his MC killed the Wolverines. She had been scared, but that was understandable when she was right in the thick of a full out shifter MC fight. But she had also killed one of the Wolverine MC prospects, and he had seen the look in her eyes, the one that spoke of that being the first time she had taken a life.

“We shouldn’t have brought her here.”

Jagger looked at Brick after he spoke. Brick was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“You expected me to leave an injured female there alone? She would have fucking bled out, or Trick would have come back and found her,” Jagger said, barely holding onto his anger.

But the last thing they needed was a complication like this in their club, but for as much as a bastard as he was, Jagger didn’t want the blood of innocent women or children on his hands. It wasn’t right, but she couldn’t stay here either. They had no room for females from rival MCs in their clubhouse, and unless she planned on being another addition to the Grizzly club whore selection, they needed to get her healed and ship her ass on her way. And the thought of her leaving didn’t sit well with Jagger. He even had a physical reaction in him in the form of a tightening in his gut.

The fight with Trick and his men had been a long time coming. But Trick was still out there, and there was no doubt that he would come back to pay in kind. The Colorado Wolverine charter was no longer active, or at least Jagger hoped this fight had solidified that. There were half a dozen corpses to prove it, but not the one that needed extinguishing the most. Jagger didn’t know if another charter would come after them, or if they would let it go. There were no doubts that one of the Wolverine Presidents would contact him, and if not and they just retaliated, then Jagger and his crew would just have to take them out as well. He didn’t want all this violence, even if it ran in his blood and ruled his life. But he had to take hold of it and not let go, because it was engrained in him and everything he stood for.

“I wasn’t about to leave a female there amongst all of that shit. She was trying to escape, anyway. I know you all smelled that determination on her.”

Brick grunted and looked over at the female. “I’ll call the Utah and Arizona charters and have
them
come down in case this shit with the Wolverines doesn’t die. Especially with Trick hauling ass out of there before we could finish him off, I have a feeling he won’t let this rest.”

 
Jagger nodded at Brick’s words, but still watched the female. He knew that if she had any importance to Trick the fucker would come after her. “I sure as fuck don’t want any more shit happening and landing on our doorstep, but we all know Trick won’t walk away from this, not when we killed all but him and one of his crew.”

“The other Wolverine MC charters know how bad Trick and his MC had deteriorated, but I don’t know if he goes to them whether they will team up for retaliation.”

Jagger shook his head at what Court said.

“We need to call Boon and tell him what the fuck happened before Trick reaches out to any of the other charters, if he reaches out at all.” Court spoke gravely about the Arizona Wolverine MC President charter.

What would have been better is if all the charters for the Wolverines had gotten together and put an end to Trick’s control a long time ago, but whether they talked to Trick or not wasn’t Jagger’s concern, nor did he get into other club’s business. But there could be blowback for all the dead bodies that accumulated today. Trick must have seen he had no hold over the situation when the bodies of his MC members started hitting the ground. That’s why he chickened out and took off in the woods. Jagger had sent two of his men after Trick, but they didn’t know the woods like the Wolverine President did, and by the time they shifted to their bears to scent him off, he was long gone. But honestly once Jagger saw that wounded female he hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything else anyway.

The Grizzlies had their gunshot wounds, dislocated shoulders, and flesh wounds mended already. They would be sore as fuck, but they were alive and intact. But for as fierce as the Wolverines were, and as crazy as Trick had been, Brick’s anger for retaliation had been a simmering toxic darkness this whole time. The Grizzlies had been just as prepared for an all-out war as Trick clearly had been. Was it luck that they were the ones standing even though Trick had been a fucking psycho? No, because
that
was why they were the ones left standing. Trick was careless with his tactics, and used his rage and hatred to fuel his actions. He had been sloppy, not calculated, and the one that had taken off like a fucking pussy instead of owning up to the shit he’d started.

“We need to reach out to Dino and Richie and tell them about what went down.”

Jagger nodded in response to Dallas’s words, but didn’t take his eyes from the female. He didn’t know what it was about her, but there was something definitely happening inside of him at being in her presence. Frankly Jagger didn’t know if he liked that or not. He never felt unbalanced, especially not concerning a female, but at the first sight of her amongst all that carnage, there had been this pull inside of him. The next thing he realized was he had shifted back to his human form—not caring that he was naked and covered in blood—and was standing a foot from her. She had stared at him like she was on the verge of being broken, and it broke his damn heart. No, she wasn’t a club whore, but there were no doubts in Jagger’s mind that Trick had done a number on her.

Jagger took a step toward the bed and looked at her starting at her feet. She had worn slip on shoes, the kind that had no heels and looked almost innocent. Those had since been removed, and her bare toes, unpainted nails, and the dainty looking arch, turned him on to the point his pulse pounded at the tip of his cock. He was a sick bastard for feeling any kind of arousal when she was in this state. The jeans she wore encased her thick thighs, but they were curvy and lush, and a bunch of filthy fucking things filled his mind. He pushed those thoughts and images away and let his gaze travel up to her rounded belly, and over her huge breasts that were covered by a thin sheet. The material was thin and white, and he could see the outline of her white bra, one that wasn’t sexy in the least, but for some reason had his mouth watering. She wasn’t all skin and bones like the females that hung around the club. He liked her curvy, thick body, and liked that she had meat to hold onto while he plowed his dick in her.

Damn, clean up your thoughts.

His cock punched forward like some kind of damn animal, and once again he felt like a sick fuck for watching her while she slept, and for thinking about what she would look like naked. It was wrong, but then again that had never stopped Jagger from doing what he wanted to do. And he had done a lot of bad things in his life. For whatever reason, he wanted this female, had from the moment he had seen her standing by the truck. And when he had realized she was hurt, his bear had risen up, and the need to tend to her and protect her had slammed into him like another living entity.

Her dark hair was a mess around the white pillow, and her skin was pretty pale. Even with her eyes closed he remembered how blue they had been when she stared at him. Fuck, he was hard, and here she was passed out. He felt like a fucking pervert, especially when his guys were standing around him and could smell his arousal for her. Jagger scrubbed a hand over his face, turned away from her, and headed out of the room and shut the door behind him. His crew followed suit. When she woke up they had a lot of questions for her. She couldn’t stay at the clubhouse any longer than it took to heal her shoulder. The thought of her leaving had his bear getting a bit pissed. No, this female made him feel unstable, and that was a complication Jagger did not need in his life, least of all now. What he needed was a hard drink to wash away the death of today, as well as the effects this female was having on not only his animal side, but the roughened MC human side as well.

****

Sonya sat up quickly, but doing that had a sharp pain zinging from her shoulder all the way to her arm. She looked at her shoulder, and although the room was dark, and night had clearly fallen as was evident through the window across from her, light from a floodlight outside came through the window. She didn’t have a shirt on, but her bra was intact, and a thick bandage covered her shoulder. It was white, almost seeming to glow in the shadowed room, but a dark stain had seeped through the dressing. Sweat covered her forehead from the pain that throbbed in her arm, and the fact the nightmare she had just experienced was too realistic for her liking. It was hard to breathe through those two things. Everything was vividly fresh in her mind, and her heart thundered.

 
Where was she? All she remembered was those frighteningly looking MC members that had been covered in blood and wounds, and that seemed to be the only ones left standing after the fight. But then she remembered seeing blood moving down her arm. The prospect had clearly shot her, but after that she couldn’t remember anything. Had those men taken her to their place?
If so, why?
They obviously knew she was affiliated with Trick, so why would they bring her anywhere when letting her die with the rest of the Wolverines would have been a lot easier and less complicated on their part?

God, all these questions made her head hurt. She covered her forehead with a hand and closed her eyes. Throat parched and desperately in need of some water, Sonya grabbed the sheet pooled at her waist and wrapped it around her body.

The room wasn’t anything spectacular, pretty bare really, but there were a few posters on the wall with naked women straddling Harleys. There was a dresser, a few end tables, and the bed, but that was it. She headed toward the bathroom that was visible because of the light from the outside shining through the open doorway. After turning on the harsh light, she gave her eyesight a minute to adjust and then stared at herself in the mirror.
Eh.
She looked like death run over twice, especially with her matted hair on one side, the bags under her eyes, and her normally pale complexion looking even pastier. But she was alive, and, she hoped, away from Trick and the Wolverines, so the rest didn’t matter. A stack of hand towels and washcloths were on a shelf in the corner, and she grabbed one.

After washing her face with one of the cloths, mindful of every movement since the pain was enough to have her eyes watering, she tossed the used towel into the hamper. Staring at her reflection once more, she looked at the bandage covered in blood. Picking at the corner until she could grab hold of the edge, she slowly peeled it back to reveal the nasty looking hole in her shoulder. Twisting around, she looked at her back, saw another bandage, and peeled that one away, too. There was an exit wound, and she was at least thankful the bullet wasn’t still in her, or that they had to dig it out.

After pressing the bandage back in place she turned off the light and stepped out of the bathroom, but a very huge form, almost looming by the partially ajar bedroom door, had a squeak of surprise and fear coming from her.

“Calm down.” His voice was deep, and she instantly knew it was
him
, the man from Trick’s that made her feel all kinds of strange things.

She still took a step back, though.

“If I wanted to hurt you, I could have done it a hundred different ways already.” He closed the door, and once again the room became washed in obliqueness. His voice was deep and husky and made something inside of her simmer to life. “Here.” He took a step forward, and she moved one back. She didn’t think this man would hurt her, but she also didn’t know what he expected from her, or why he hadn’t left her to die. He tossed a pair of clothes on the bed. “I don’t know if they will fit, but at least they will cover you up. It’s either those or some club whore outfit from one of the other females.”