by Jenika Snow
Jagger turned and headed straight for the bar. The music was already blasting, and one of the prospects was manning the bar. Jagger took a seat, asked for a beer and shot, and turned to look at his club members while Darren got it for him. Diesel was once again sitting by the stripper pole. Brick was busy getting felt up by Starla, and Dallas, Drevin, Court, Stinger, and Bill-O, a member old enough to be their fucking granddad, were getting ready to play a game of pool. There were several other members hanging around, some getting head, and others passing around a joint. Many of the former members—the ones still wearing a patch but mostly just hanging around and not chiming in during the discussion—had old ladies at home taking care of their kids, but they were here getting a little pussy here at the clubhouse. But it wasn’t Jagger’s place to bring that up, because his boys already knew that shit. Bill-O was one of those said members, but he was more of a clubhouse fixture than anything else anymore. But Jagger was getting old as fuck, too, and at forty-two he was getting tired of going from one pussy to the next. The thought of spending the rest of his life banging club whores was almost depressing.
“Here you go, Prez.” Darren “Squeaks” Boon slid a shot of whisky and bottle of beer his way. Jagger threw the whisky back, loved the fucking burn as it went down his throat, and grabbed his beer to chase it down.
“Hey, big boy,” DeDe said and sidled up beside him in nothing but a string bikini top and a pair of cut-off shorts that damn near rode up her cunt. “You want to play in the back?”
He tipped his beer back, looked over at DeDe and eyed her up and down. She would let him do whatever in the hell he wanted to do to her. It was one of the reasons he mainly fucked her, but right now he wasn’t feeling up to it.
“Nah. Go spend some time with the other guys.”
She stared at him, and the scent of her surprise filled his nose. Club pussy liked to fuck, didn’t care who it was with, and did it because their end goal was all the same: becoming an old lady. They services the club members in any way they saw fit, helped relax his boys so they weren’t so strung up, and were crucial to the way the club ran.
“Go on.” He tilted his bottle toward the other members.
She made her way toward them, and he knew why she was surprised by him turning her down. There weren’t many times Jagger passed on pussy, but for some damn fucked-up reason he just was sick of all this shit. Not the club life, but the constant random hook-ups. God, now he was sounding like a fucking wimp for thinking about claiming a female for his own. But it wasn’t like this was the first time he had thought that. Jagger had those thoughts cross his mind before, but had pushed them so far down inside of him that it was hard to find them once again. But the little bastard had found its way to the surface, and here he was now, thinking of having a female of worth by his side, like that was really what he needed in his life. Jagger could even imagine having her ride on the back of his bike, and being able to call her his. But decent females didn’t want an outlaw biker, not with his past, the violence that surrounded the club, the way they lived their life, and the things that they were balls deep in on a daily basis. It would take one strong ass female to put up with that shit, and Jagger didn’t know if he would ever find one. He finished his beer, stood, and headed to his room. He just wanted to crash, because the way he was feeling wouldn’t do anything but make everyone twitchy as fuck.
Chapter Three
Although Sonya wasn’t privy to club business, and didn’t have the senses like a shifter did since she was a human, she still knew something was up by the tension that was in the air. It felt so thick she could have suffocated on it. She stayed out of the way as MC members moved around the clubhouse like shit was about to go down. Most of the time she hid in her room, not wanting to get involved in any of this crap, but she was almost afraid to move and draw attention to herself since she was on the other side of the room. For whatever reason, everyone seemed on edge to the nth degree. Sonya wrapped her arms around herself and pressed her back further against the wall when the Wolverine club members started getting their guns out and checking their bullets.
“How long are they out?” The VP called to Trick who was in the backroom. Trick came out, and her skin tightened instantly.
“They are thirty minutes away. This should be easy enough, but with the shit that went down the last time we were in Grizzly MC presence, I’m not about to take any chances. Who knows if that Brick fucker will go off the deep end?”
“But it’s been years. Why in the hell would he still be holding a grudge?” A new patched in member asked.
Trick snapped his head in the other male’s direction and snarled. “Because his face is all jacked up and we killed a shitload of their guys, you dumb motherfucker.”
“Jagger said shit was cool, though.”
Trick gave his VP a scathing look. “I don’t give a fuck what Jagger said. The Grizzly MC has a pretty heinous fucking background, too, and I wouldn’t put anything past them. But to be honest, I’m hoping one of them starts some shit. I’ve been raring to go another round with that Brick fucker and finish what was started.” Trick cocked his gun and tucked it at the small of his back. He inhaled deeply and zeroed in on where Sonya stood. Trick was scary as hell, the way he ran his MC was even scarier, and she was right in the middle of both of them. “Get your ass over here, Sonya.”
She swallowed and moved away from the wall, but pulled on her inner strength to get her through. When she stood in front of Trick, all she could see was the cold, hard look of the devil staring right back at her.
He reached around and gripped her hair, yanking her head back so her neck was bared. “Who do you belong to, female?” She hated when he did this, made her feel like she was degrading herself by telling him something that was far from the truth. But he felt like he had some kind of ownership on her, like she was nothing more than a piece of his property that he could use and abuse whenever he felt like it. But she had learned to go along with what he said, and then at least he wasn’t as abusive toward her. It wasn’t the coward’s way out, but the survivor’s way. But even then her behavior wasn’t enough to stop him. He tightened his hold on her hair, and a sting of pain speared right through her head. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Sonya. You know what happens when people don’t do what I say.” He didn’t phrase it like a question. Yeah, she knew personally what happened.
“You, Trick.” She said it smoothly enough, but inside she felt dirty and vile, even after all these years.
He bared his teeth, like he was some kind of fucking wild animal. But then again that wasn’t very far off from the truth.
“Yeah, you fucking belong to me, bitch, and I want you to remember that when another MC comes sniffing around my club.”
Her heart thundered in her chest, but he either didn’t care about her reaction, or his mind was preoccupied on what was about to happen.
He slammed his mouth on hers, his teeth clashing against hers and causing bile to roil in her belly. Fortunately, he let go of her hair and pushed her away only seconds later. “You’ll remember that when they are here.”
“You don’t want me in my room?” The fact he was making it seem like she would actually see these males was a little startling.
“Oh, no, you’ll be in your fucking room.” Okay. She was a bit confused by why he was even saying any of this, but she stopped wondering why Trick did anything. He was a lunatic. He gripped her chin in a bruising hold, and she gasped. He was in a foul mood all of a sudden, and she assumed it had to do with whatever club was coming here. There were too many enemies of the Wolverines—at least that was what she always heard—that she couldn’t even begin to think of which one had suddenly put him in a nasty mood. All she kept telling herself was that soon, she would find a way out. “I have something very fun planned for you tonight, Sonya.” He grinned again, but it was mainly a snapping of his teeth. “It’s been too long since I really showed you how much you mean to me.”
Her throat dried
and then closed, and she pressed her hands to her outer thighs. Trick stared at her right in the eyes, and a cold chill worked its way through her. She might have had sex with him recently, but the kind of promise he was talking about would involve pain, marks, and most likely blood.
How much more of this can you take, Sonya? It’s been seven years of you being his slave in every possible way. How many more welts from his belt, marks from his teeth, and the stench of everything that is evil from Trick covering you, can you handle? She had thought this over and over again. And she always came up with the same conclusion: As many as it took to stay alive.
“Now go in your room and stay there until I come for you.”
She went to turn away, not because he had ordered her to do it, but because she needed to get away from him.
Trick grabbed her arm, stilling her. “And leave your hair down, Sonya. I want to pull the shit out of it when you’re screaming tonight.”
Cold sweat dotted her brow. The type of screaming he anticipated was not from pleasure. It never was. He sounded far too excited over what he had planned. God, but how was she going to get out of here if she was always watched?
****
As soon as Jagger had stepped on Wolverine property his bear had risen up for a fight. This was always his animal’s reaction when he was close to shady as fuck males, but it had been years since they had been this close together. He turned and looked at Brick, who stood to his right. “You doing okay, brother?” Brick stood tense as hell, and the scent of his bear barely being restrained filled his nose. It was taking a lot for Brick to keep it together, and right now all Brick was focusing on was the male a few feet from them—Trick. Brick nodded in response to Jagger’s question.
“We gonna do this, or do you plan on comforting your MC?” Trick said with unrestrained amusement.
Jagger clenched his hands and told himself that this business deal needed to go through in order to get the Grizzlies into a less aggressive profession, so to speak. “Where do you want to talk about this?”
“Right here is fine,” Trick said in response to Jagger’s question. They were out in front of the Wolverines’ clubhouse, but if the asshole wanted to do this here so be it. There was enough acreage on Trick’s property that they were relatively safe from anyone hearing anything. Jagger liked the space anyway. It gave him and his boys more room to move around if shit got iffy.
Jagger nodded in approval and crossed his arms over his chest.
“So, you told me you’re trying to unload your hauling duties, right?” Trick asked.
Jagger nodded again.
“Yeah, been looking around for clubs that might be into taking over those duties. You were at the top of the list because of your connections in the drug line.”
Trick didn’t move, but his eyes told a lot. “How much is being hauled, how often, and what’s the payout?”
Diesel was on his left and Brick on his right. Drevin had stayed back to deal with Sticks and Jace in getting some things finalized with the underground fighting. Dallas, Court, and Stinger were standing behind them, and although he sensed their cool composure, each one of them was packing heavy enough firepower to blow some serious holes in these bastards if they wanted to do a repeat of last time. But they really didn’t need guns, because if they wanted this to finally end they could let their bears free. “Right now we are hauling two shipments a month. One from Dino’s crew in Denver and the other from Richie’s organization in Boulder. All we do is the drop-off to the designated destinations, and then they handle the rest.” Trick’s full interest was on the conversation, but Jagger knew he was waiting to see what the payout was. “Usually we do the pick-up some place between our club and their place, but there have been times we’ve had to do a run to a longer pick-up location.”
“And the percentage your club gets?” Trick asked.
“The cut is twenty grand for a ten kilo load—” Jagger said bluntly.
“That’s almost the price for one kilo itself.”
Jagger held in his growl of annoyance and shrugged at Trick’s response. He knew what a kilo of coke ran for, but twenty grand for taking it from point A to point B was a decent amount.
“You can always work out the details with the suppliers. If you want to haul more, I’m sure the payout will be more, too. But for us and our club that is what worked.” Jagger stayed quiet for a moment.
Trick looked at his crew and then faced Jagger once more. “We’ll have to bring it to the table, but I think we might be able to take over that, as long as Dino and Richie can work with our terms.”
Jagger wasn’t about to argue with Trick on the fact there was nothing to work out with the President of one of the biggest human MCs in Colorado, and a very dangerous crime boss. He was on good terms with those two, had worked with them for years, but he didn’t once think that they wouldn’t slit throats if they thought it was best for their organizations, or if they thought they were being hustled. Let Trick find that out the hard way. Richie was known to bring his Italian mob organization along for the ride when he hammered nails between people’s eyes.
“I’m only here to bring you the offer. I talked with Dino and Richie, and they know your reputation, and believe you could handle the job, maybe even take longer runs with it, but that’s their deal to offer.”
Trick stood there with his arms crossed, looking like this smug asshole, and that everything would fall right into his fucking lap.
“But they also told me that if I didn’t think you and your crew were the best for the job that they could find other crews just as qualified lined up. You taking this on isn’t beneficial for me. I’m just reaching out because I think it is what’s best for Richie and Dino.”
“If you’re getting out of this how do you plan to keep the club running?” Trick asked, like he had any right to know about this information.
“You know what goes on in our MCs isn’t any one’s fuckin’ business but our own.”
Trick grinned, but it was more of a snarl. If bringing this deal to the Wolverines hadn’t been what could help out the two males he had grown to trust over the years, and get the Grizzlies out of drug hauling, then Jagger wouldn’t have been standing here. But sometimes a person had to do shit that they just didn’t want to do, but that was best for the club.
“We’ll be in touch.” Jagger gritted out.
Trick’s grin widened, but Jagger and his men didn’t wait around to socialize. They turned and headed back toward their bikes as Court headed toward the truck. “Looks like that scar healed up pretty nice.”
Jagger tensed at what Trick said and glanced over at Brick and Diesel. They were just as tense as he was. Of course that fucking Trick had to open his mouth and start shit. Jagger turned fully around so he faced Brick, whose face was a mask of rage and animal fierceness. He had been barely holding on as it was, and now that Trick had opened his mouth and brought up the past that he had forced himself to walk away from, Jagger knew shit was about to get real.
“Brother?” Jagger kept his voice low and stared at Brick. He hadn’t moved, but the burning need to shift and finish what had been started back at that bar shone brightly behind his eyes.
Brick slowly removed his cut and handed it over to one of the members.
“Shit,” Jagger said. He and the other Grizzlies took off their cuts and tossed them in the back of the truck. The laugh that came from Trick told Jagger that the Wolverine was aware of what in the hell was going to happen. Shit, he had baited Brick for the sole purpose of getting under his skin. Apparently even business deals with these fuckers turned out bloody.
“I mean, taking the pussy way out had been the best route for you, anyway.” There was a chorus of laughter from Trick and his men. “But keep on walking, boys. I mean, you wouldn’t want to fuck with a bunch of wolverines anyway.” And it was at that moment, right when Brick’s grizzly broke through and all hell broke loose, that Jagger realized there would be a lot of blood spilled today.
****
The moment Sonya had heard the about stampede of footsteps outside of her bedroom door she had crept out of her cell. She saw the last of the prospects leave out the front doors and slipped out of her room, feeling a little unsure if luck was actually with her today and she had an opportunity to escape. She couldn’t remember a time when Trick had anyone that was an outsider at the clubhouse, and certainly not another MC. Sure, the Wolverines had come back bloodied, bruised, and some even being carried by others because they were dead, but they had always come back alone. She might not know why another MC was here, but she didn’t care. She was taking this chance to save herself. So this might have been her one and only chance at getting out of here. She’d much rather take her chances out in the surrounding woods than being stuck in this hellhole another minute longer. When she made her way into the main part of the clubhouse she unfortunately saw her ever present prospect guard dog. He was close enough to reach for her, and that was exactly what he did. He grabbed her arm and yanked her toward him.
“Prez told you to stay in your room.”
She glared up at Mickey/Ricky. He had been giving her the rapey eyes since he came to the club.
“I’m thirsty.” He tightened his hold on her arm, but then loosened it enough that he could run his fingers along her skin.
It felt like ants moving along her body. “I don’t think Prez would take kindly to a lowly prospect feeling up what is his.” Sonya hated saying those words, hated using the disgusting thing she was to Trick as some kind of bargaining chip. But they had the desired effect she had planned. The asshole let go of her like she was made of acid.
“I’m going to get something to drink. I know my fucking place.” He snarled at her, but he turned around and headed toward the bar.
Sonya looked through the small window across from the tables and could see the Wolverines talking with another the other club. The other MC were bigger in height and muscle mass than Trick and his men, and they held themselves like they weren’t afraid of the owners of this territory. Despite the fact she couldn’t hear what was being said, she saw the way they were holding themselves. A fight was brewing, and any minute now things would get ugly. She stared at the male that was in front of his men, and clearly the leader of this particular MC. Her pulse increased, her hands became moist, and her throat tightened. She didn’t know what it was about him, or why just looking at him had this kind of reaction inside of her, but it was most definitely powerful enough to have everything inside of her seeming to go on riot. Even from the distance, and despite the fact they had never seen each other let alone spoken before, she felt this pull, this magnetism that she didn’t feel comfortable with. The sensation of someone watching her intently had her turning and glaring at the asshole prospect. He might have said he was getting a drink, and that he knew his place, but he was sitting at the bar, as if waiting for her to serve him. She grabbed a bottle of water out of the cooler and glanced out the window once more. There were several motorcycles owned by the other MC, but right before her heart plummeted at the fact she wouldn’t be going anywhere—at least not with the other bikers—she saw the huge pickup truck parked on the other side of the Harleys. Her pulse increased even further, and she felt as though her heart was going to burst through her chest.