The Outlaw's Obsession(11)

“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.

“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.