The Outlaw's Obsession (2 page)

She finished washing the glasses and started wiping down the bar. Some classic rock song was playing overhead. It was too early in the morning for it, especially when she hadn’t been able to go to sleep with all the noise from the party last night. But she would much prefer the sleepless nights to the ones where she was being tossed about almost violently by Trick.

Sonya tossed the rag in the sink, washed her hands, and took a seat on the barstool. She rubbed her eyes and sighed heavily. Although she hadn’t physically tried to leave after the last time, Sonya never stopped thinking of ways to escape the hell she was in. She let her hand fall to her thigh, the one that had been broken a couple of years ago when Trick had been really drunk and found her trying to leave.

“Hey, get me a beer.”

She lifted her head and looked at the prospect that had the cigarette hanging from his too thin lips. She thought his real name was Mickey, or Ricky, but everyone just called him Bubba.

He pushed off the wall and came toward her. He was a slimy bastard, had been with the club for the last eleven months, and she knew next month his year would be up and the club would decide whether he would be patched in or not. But this wolverine had long black hair hanging past his shoulders in greasy strands, and the smile he gave her was yellow and crooked, and made her picture all sorts of nasty things. She had seen Bubba with the club whores, and although those females willingly degraded themselves, the way Bubba handled them, as if he had a right to mark their bodies, reminded her of Trick. Yes, this male was a bastard in the worst kind of way, but she already knew they would patch him in. Trick stared at him like he was some kind trophy, what with his sadistic ways.

Chills raced along her arms and legs, but she didn’t say anything, just got off the stool, went over to the fridge, and grabbed a beer. After popping the cap and walking back over to Bubba, she held her hand out for him to take the beer. He reached out, wrapped his hand around the neck of the bottle—right over hers—and held her stare. It felt like bugs crawling along her flesh, but then he snatched the beer out of her hand and tipped it back to his mouth.

“
Yo
, Bubba, crew’s back,” another prospect yelled out.

The sound of motorcycles coming closer had Sonya’s heart racing. Bubba stared at her for another second before chugging the rest of the beer and slamming the bottle on the counter. He made his way over to the other two prospects, but they didn’t leave her alone. Instead they opened the door, and the MC crew piled in. They were laughing as they made their way inside. She moved away from the bar and was going to head to her room when a thick arm wrapped itself around her middle and pulled her back. The chest she slammed up against was all too familiar, and everything inside of her tensed.

Trick buried his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply. He reeked of sweat and stale liquor. But he didn’t molest her in front of everyone like he had more times than she could count. He pulled away from her.
“Meeting, boys.
Time to bring a little justice to this fucking club.”
There was a round of hollers, and then the members were piling into the back room where they held their club business. She didn’t know what they were doing and didn’t want to know. But even if she was privy to what went on behind those meeting room doors, Sonya assumed it was some kind of retaliation against another shifter cub, or illegal shit.

Once the doors were shut she made her way to her room, but she was very aware of the prospects following her. Once in her room, the one that was more like a cell than anything else, she leaned against the closed door. The prospects didn’t come pass the threshold, wouldn’t dare to without meeting the wrath of Trick, but they stayed right outside. Her room was barren of anything aside from the necessities, but she liked it that way. She didn’t even have a window, and the small bathroom looked like it had been resurrected from the seventies. No, this wasn’t her home, even if she had been here for years.

It was bad enough being a female amongst these monsters, but being a human on top of that, so much weaker than their kind, had her powerless. But what she didn’t have in physical strength she made up for in the mental kind. One day she would escape, and when she did she would never look back.

Chapter Two

Jagger made his way through the abandoned warehouse. The further they descended the more strongly the scent of decay and age permeated the air. Diesel, Brick, Stinger, Court, and Dallas all followed behind him. They were meeting with Sticks, an underground human fighter that they had made connections with years ago. They had never done business with Sticks, but he had inside details when it came to bare knuckle fighting, and now ran his own circle. Jagger knew that today was a meeting with the Lions President, Jace, and Sticks. They were going to hear Sticks out on the benefits of getting in with him on the underground fighting circuit. Although this wasn’t legal in any sense, it was less high profile than running drugs for a third party. The money might be steady, but it wouldn’t be the heavy cash flow that dealing with drugs brought in. The club would see a hit at first, but getting out of the spotlight of local authorities, and beef with rival clubs would be better for the Grizzly MC in the long run.

The sound of shouting grew louder the further they descended. The decrepit hallway they were moving down opened up to a large basement in the warehouse. The voices were earsplitting now as the sound echoed off the walls. Human and shifter males stood in a semi-formed circle. Their arms were raised, and money was gripped tightly in their hands as they shouted for more blood and violence. Jagger and the other members of his crew split up to walk around the circle. Through the parts in the crowd as the males pushed at each other to get a better look, Jagger could see a panther and wolf going at it. Blood was splattered along the floor, and gaping holes covered the animals’ bodies. But they were fierce motherfuckers, attacking each other with a rage that impressed him. He pushed through the crowd, but no one gave him shit, not when they saw his cut, read his club name, and knew the Grizzly MC reputation. Jagger stood at the front of the circle, close enough to the fight that he could practically taste the sweat, blood, and adrenalin that came from these two males. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked up to see the rest of his club at the front of the circle, too. Brick had a sadistic smile on his face as the wolf shifter snapped his jaw, bared his teeth, and tried to block an attack from the other animal. But the panther was stronger and went in for the kill. He latched his jaw around the wolf’s neck, and with one loud, sickening crunch tore the wolf’s throat
clean
out. A spray of blood splashed along the already red stained cement ground. The wolf collapsed, a bright red pool of blood starting to form. But the male wouldn’t shift back to his human side, which was better since getting rid of an animal corpse was a hell of a lot easier than doing that with a human body.

There were a few curses, money being exchanged, and then the audience was moving back, waiting for the next competitors. Jagger stared at the panther that looked ready to go another round. He paced back and forth, had saliva and blood dripping from his jaw, and had his black eyes trained on seemingly everything at once. Jagger sensed Sticks moving to his right and then Jace to his left.

 
“That’s Ty.”

Jagger looked at Sticks after the human spoke.

 
“He’s the best fighter we got. A mean fucker that is undefeated.” Sticks turned and grabbed a towel from one of his men. “
Yo
.” He lifted his chin toward Ty, and there was the popping sound of bones realigning. Seconds later a naked panther shifter stood in his human form. His arms were tatted up, and his black hair was soaking wet with blood and sweat. There were also massive wounds covering his body. Sticks tossed him the towel. Ty looked at Jagger for a second, but he didn’t give anything away. He turned and pushed his way through the loitering crowds, and went into one of the back rooms.

“What’s his story?” Jagger stared at the closed door for a second before moving so he could see both Sticks and Jace.

“Not sure. All I know is he has one fucked up past.”
Jace’s
deep voice rumbled out. The Lion MC President had a day’s worth of beard growth, and although it was clear he hadn’t been sleeping, he was still one fierce motherfucker and head of one of the MCs that was in alliance with Jagger’s club. Colorado had many shifter and human MCs. Occasionally there were fights breaking out, shit getting started, and retaliation being dealt for those fuck-ups. That was all part of the life they led, but Jagger preferred to stay on good terms with others, because having beef with other MCs was a pain in the ass, and people always ended up getting hurt. Jagger tried to form alliances with other shifter clubs, and was on good terms with the majority, the Lion MC being his main allies. He and Jace went back for fifteen years, and Jagger knew he could always count on the lion shifter to be there for him. But the same went for Jagger and his club where Jace was concerned.

“Okay, how ‘bout we get this shit done?” Jace said and slapped him on the back.

Sticks grinned. “Come on. I got a room in the back where we can talk about the details.” Sticks moved toward the back of the warehouse.

Jagger motioned for his guys to follow. Jace had only brought his VP, Tank, but then again Jace had been deep in the fighting scene for years and had enough backup with Sticks and the fighters if shit got bad. Maybe Jagger should have taken up his friend’s offer to join forces all those years ago, but at the time the club had voted it down and wanted to get into drug hauling. They stepped into a back room that smelled strongly of mold and dirt. When everyone was inside, with his men leaning against the wall, Sticks shut the door and got right to business.

 
“I reached out because Jace and I have been talking about expanding the fighting ring to surrounding territories.”

“Your club voted it down when I asked you to join in all those years ago, but since the business is raking in the cash, I thought I’d reach out to the Grizzlies and see if you want to give it a go this time.” Jace grinned once he finished speaking.

The club had already talked about this and decided to hear the offer out, and that was the only reason they were here talking about it.

“What kind of set-up do you have? And what do we have to contribute?” Brick said and moved beside Jagger. His Sergeant at Arms had a thing for
violence,
and the bloodier the better.

“You’ll help provide muscle during the bigger fights, help recruit when a fighter is down.” Sticks looked over at Jace once he said that. He turned and faced Jagger and his men once more. “But what really
interests
us is that Carlson property you have off of Route 29.We know the set-up you have there, and the protection of the trees, and the acreage. The barn you have would work well for helping to make sure we don’t get shut down by the local authorities since it’s on private property.”

Jagger crossed his arms. “Just because it is on private property doesn’t mean shit. The cops can still do a raid.”

Jace nodded and said, “Yeah, we know that, but the heat is just getting too heavy being out here. Cops keep making rounds, and one of these days they’re going to find some kind of bullshit cause to shut the place down.”

“Yeah, your shit is out in the middle of nowhere, and last I heard from your boys was you weren’t using it for anything other than storage,” Sticks said. Jagger’s grandfather had owned the property in question, and then it had been passed down to him.

“What’s the cut?” Jagger asked, because really that was one of the main reasons why they would go into business with them. If the payout was shit, it was a no-go.

“Since Sticks and the Lions are the main proprietors of the underground ring in Steel Corner we each get forty percent, and the fighters get twenty. You come on board and the cut will be equal for both clubs and Sticks,” Jace said.

“But the barn will be the main set-up for the fights?” Diesel, his VP, asked.

Jace nodded.

Diesel looked at Jagger, and they were both were thinking the same thing. Diesel spoke for the Grizzlies. “We’re putting up most of the risk providing the place that this shit is going down, plus you want us to be muscle and help recruit.” No one said anything, and the tension went up an inch. “We want forty percent. You and the Lion MC can split the rest with each other and the fighters.”

Jace didn’t say anything for a moment, and he and Sticks looked at each other. “That only leaves twenty percent each for Sticks and the Lions since we have to give the fighters twenty percent, too,” Sticks said with a bite to his words.

Jagger didn’t say anything, just continued to stare at both of them.
 
Sticks pulled Jace aside, and the two talked quietly for a few minutes. When they were finished they both nodded at each other and moved back to Jagger and his crew.

“What about thirty percent and two kilos of coke to distribute?”

Jagger lifted a brow and looked at Diesel, and then the rest of his MC. “Where the fuck you
gonna
get two kilos of coke on the street?” he asked in response to Sticks’ offer. “And what makes you think we want to help unload it?”

Sticks rubbed his jaw. “I know a guy that has hookups with the Alonso gang up on Shepard Pass. They are looking to unload the coke they have since they have heat on them. They are willing to take a massive cut, but I don’t have the connections to get something out like that,” Sticks said.

“Jace has the right connections,” Diesel said, but his VP needed to shut the fuck up.

Jagger cut a glare at Diesel and then looked back at Sticks and the Lion President.

“You know the Lions haven’t been in the drug business for the last three years. That shit was voted down, and it has been going good for us. Even if I wanted to take that on, the boys wouldn’t vote it in,” Jace said and glared at Diesel.

“I know you do mule-
ing
for some outside jobs for a cut rate, but I’ll buy these two kilos from the
Alonsos
, and give it to you to sell. You can take sixty percent of the profits. No questions asked.”

Jagger thought about what Sticks said, and although it wasn’t a bad offer, and he knew the right people he could sell it to, the Grizzly MC didn’t want to be under more heat.

“I don’t know. I’ll have to bring it to the table and see what the vote is. We’re going to be getting out of coke hauling, and taking on more drugs doesn’t seem like the step in that direction. That’s why we came to see you boys. We need revenue to make up what we will be losing,” Jagger said, and Jace and Sticks nodded.

“We understand. Just take it to the table and let us know.” Jace stepped up to Jagger after speaking.

Jagger and Jace clapped each other on the back, and Jagger and his crew followed Sticks and the Lion out of the warehouse.

****

Jagger sat at the head of the table and looked at all of his members. “Okay, so it’s unanimous on taking on the fighting and coke.”

All the members murmured their agreement.

“The Strongsville Gang up north is always interested in taking on new merchandise. They distribute to the lower-class gangs out of state that charge double for the product.”

Jagger tapped his fingers on the table and nodded at Brick’s words.

“Good. Call up Martion and see if he is interested. If he is, set up a meeting and we can go over prices. I’m not about to lose money off of it.” There was another round of murmurs. “Okay, next up to discuss is taking on two new prospects.” Jagger looked around the table.

“They’re grizzlies from California originally, hard asses on their own, but they want to join the MC,” Diesel said around the cigarette he held between his lips.

“They know the run-down of what is expected of them, but I think taking on a couple extra males is beneficial seeing as we are making this transition.” Jagger looked at each of the males at the table. “Anyone object to adding two more bodies to the club, with possible patching them in after they’ve served their time?” They went around the table, each male giving his approval.
“All right, good.”

“Is Trick still up for taking on our end of the coke running?” Court asked from across the table. “I know it was talked about with him a few months back, but I also know we were waiting to see if there were any other avenues we got take before we cut ties with our suppliers right now, or got involved with that psycho.”