by Jenika Snow
“Get the fuck back in your room before I have to tell Trick you’re eyeing the Grizzly President like you want to ride his cock.” There was sick satisfaction in the prospect’s words.
Sonya looked in his face she knew he would tell Trick even though that wasn’t what had her heart racing. But before she could move there was a loud, animalistic growl. “Fuck.” The prospect asshole turned toward the window, and that was when he had sensed the fight before she had even realized it had started. He ran toward the front doors, but stopped at the armory cabinet and grabbed a lethal looking gun. Shouts, guns going off, and animalistic roars filled the air. A bullet tore through the front of the window, and she ducked just as it shattered the mirror behind the bar.
Covering her head with her arms, she felt the prick of the shards of glass raining down on her. You’re alone, and you can’t waste any time. Sonya didn’t even know if this other MC would make it out of here alive, but she couldn’t just sit here and wait to find out. By the time Trick and his men realized she was gone—if they survived—she hoped she would have put a substantial amount of distance between her and this level of hell.
Sonya was scared shitless, but the alternative frightened her even more. Besides, she doubted there would be another opportunity where she could escape. Slowly standing, she glanced right over the edge of the bar counter and made sure there weren’t any Wolverines or prospects around. One more glance outside showed a full on brawl with shifters. Grizzly bears and wolverines were going at it, but there were still men in their human forms shooting at each other. She ran toward where the guns were kept, grabbed the first handgun she saw, and checked to see if there were any bullets. She supposed that was the only thing she was thankful for while being here. Watching the MC load their guns showed her exactly what she was working with right now. But she had been taught to use a shotgun while on the farm with her dad, and although it had been years, she was confident in aiming at her target and pulling the trigger.
Moving over to the now busted out window, she kept the gun pressed to her thigh and leaned over to look out. It was a full on shifter brawl out there, but some of the males were still in their human forms, shooting at the other males. Blood covered the dirt ground in spatters of crimson, but Sonya wasn’t weak from the sight. All it did was cement the fact that she needed to get the hell out of here or that would be her bleeding out one day. The pickup was only ten feet or so from the clubhouse, an easy enough path, but that would have her trying to go unnoticed with all mayhem going on. But this was now or never, and she needed to at least try.
She moved away from the window when another bullet landed in the side of the building. There was no time for thinking. She just needed to act. Taking off as fast as she could toward the front door and still keeping her composure was a hard feat given the chaos that surrounded her. The front door was already ajar from the prospects hauling ass outside. She peeked through the crack, and pulled it open only enough to slip through. She didn’t wait, couldn’t afford to. Sonya sprinted toward the truck, ducked when she heard the rain of gunfire, but didn’t slow her pace. Everyone was so engrossed in their violence that they either didn’t see her blatantly running on the other side of their fight, or they did but couldn’t do anything about it. Either way luck was on her side. She ducked again at the sound of a gun going off far too closely, but when a bullet slammed into the ground right by her feet, she screeched and spun around. The rapey-eyed prospect stared at her, his gun hanging from his hand, but his eyes trained solely on her. She lifted the gun and aimed it at him, and cursed herself for the fact she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking. Adrenalin pumped through her veins, and she told herself that was the cause of her unsteady hand, and not the fucker moving closer to her. He chuckled as he eyed the gun she held.
“You don’t have it in you to shoot someone. Me on the other hand.” He shrugged and lifted the gun so it was aimed right at her, too. “I’ve killed more people than I can count, and each and every time it feels as good as getting off.” He grinned, his yellowing teeth flashing. “Now, go inside. The Prez will hear about this, of course, but I’m sure you coming on your own will be a hell of a lot better than what will happen to you if I have to drag your fat ass back in.”
She shook her head and tightened her hand on the butt of the gun.
“I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m leaving this fucking wasteland, even if that means dying in the process.”
His grin widened, and she knew that he would have no problem in killing her. Everyone around her was snarling, roaring out, and shooting their guns. But Sonya wasn’t about to go out like this, not just standing here in front of this fucker.
He charged forward and slammed her against the truck. The gun fell from her hand at the same time the air left her. They struggled, him trying to restrain her, and Sonya going crazy in the process of trying to get out of his grasp. She brought her knee up and connected right between his legs. The prospect let out a roar of pain and outrage and loosened his hold on her. But just as she scrambled for the gun he tackled her to the ground. Dust puffed up around them, but she felt the butt of the gun in her reach, grabbed it, and was able to turn around in his arms. He landed a punch to her side, and Sonya let out a cry of pain. Pushing away the tears that sprang up, she didn’t think, just brought the gun up and pulled the trigger.
Her eyes widened as the gun kicked back slightly. But then there was the sound of another gun going off, and then searing pain landed right in her shoulder. Maybe she was in shock, or maybe it was everything else that was happening around her, but she couldn’t feel anything aside from the rapid beat of her heart.
Bubba grinned, his teeth covered in blood, and she knew she had to shoot him again. And that’s just what she did. But she was working on instinct now, because if she didn’t stop him he was going to hurt her. On the second shot he fell back and sawed his legs as he scooted away from her. Sonya stood, still holding the gun, and kept it pointed right at him.
“You stupid fucking bitch. I didn’t think you had it in you.” Blood gurgled up and spilled from his mouth and down his chin. He grinned again, and she pulled the trigger for the third time. When the bullet tore through his chest he slumped back, going completely motionless. A large pool of blood started to spread out underneath him, just adding to the violence and bloodshed that surrounded her.
She dropped the gun, the weight of it too heavy for her to hold, and stared at the dead body right in front of her. Sonya had never taken a life. But this guy had been bad, had done bad things, and had planned on hurting her. She had done the right thing, right? The blood continued to pool out from under him, and nausea slammed into her with so much force she stumbled back and pressed against the side of the truck.
Sound seemed to vanish, and it was like everything faded away as she continued to stare at that lifeless form. She should move, run, follow-through with her plan to escape, but it was like she was frozen to the spot. Oh God. This is what she had been reduced to, what the violence that had been her life for far too long had done to her. She was just like these males, these animals and killers. A wave of dizziness assaulted her, but then everything came back like a kick to the gut. The sound, the smell of blood and animals, and the feeling that she was now being watched. But the gunfire stopped, and all she could hear now was the heavy breathing of someone close. Sonya lifted her head from the man at her feet, and looked at a completely nude, tall and massively muscular guy standing a foot from her. She could see a small part of a dark tattoo that covered his chest through the blood that was splashed over his flesh like some kind of grisly painting. But Sonya’s eyes were blurry, and the details of it eluded her. His chest rose and fell as he breathed. He looked away from her and at the dead man on the ground.
This guy was the same one she had seen right before shit had gone down—the one she knew was the leader of this MC. He was also the same one that she had felt this uncomfortable magnetism toward. And it only seemed to intensify with him b
“You don’t understand English, female?” the leader asked.
Sonya blinked. She was still dizzy, but not so much so that she didn’t see the rest of this man’s crew moving up behind him.
“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.
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