The Outlaw's Obsession(46)

The gun he carried looked big and automatic, and scary as fuck. A surge of relief filled her as DeDe slowly pushed herself up. Stinger said she was to blame for this, but Sonya didn’t know that, and besides, even if DeDe had been a bitch to her she was still a woman and at the mercy of Trick. Sonya didn’t want anyone dying. DeDe wobbled a little when she was on her feet and turned to face Trick. She was alive, but she wouldn’t be for long, that was something Sonya didn’t doubt.

There was no sound, or there was but she didn’t know how to work the controls. Trick’s mouth started moving, and the sick smile that spread across his face had horrid memories slamming into Sonya. He pointed toward where the hallways were, and DeDe lifted her hands in an act of surrender. She started saying something, and she shook her head in a frantic motion. Trick took a step closer, and in a quick move brought the back of her hand across the side of her face. DeDe’s whole body swung to the side, and she rested a hand on the wall to stay upright. DeDe started speaking again, and even on the screen and from the distance Sonya saw the tears on her face. Trick threw his head back and started laughing, and then in a fast move he lifted the gun toward her and fired.

Sonya looked away right when she saw DeDe fly backward and slam against the wall from the gunshot. Sonya stumbled back, and when the back of her legs hit the cot she sat down. She was down here, away from all of the violence, but there was no stopping Trick until he got what he wanted. And anyone that stood in his way would end up dead. Trick started making his way down the first hallway, checking the rooms, and then he finally stopped in front of the room where she was below. Stinger was on the other side of the door, his gun in his hand, and a cigarette hanging from between his lip. He lit the end as if there wasn’t some psycho path waiting to burst through the door. Stinger seemed so calm and collected.

The two screens were side-by-side, and she could see Trick on one and Stinger on the other. Trick started saying something, and then lifted his gun and started shooting through the door, but Stinger was already away from the gunfire and pressed against one of the walls. When Trick kicked the door open, Stinger shot, and a bullet went through Trick’s leg. He buckled forward but righted himself and pointed the gun at Stinger. She didn’t know how far away Jagger and the other guys were, but there had been enough bloodshed to last ten lifespans. While she was safe down below, everyone up above was being killed because of her.

“Please hurry, Jagger.” Tears fell down her cheeks, and she didn’t bother wiping them away.



Jagger pulled his Harley into the Grizzly MC lot and parked right in front of the clubhouse. He was off his bike, had his gun in his hand, and was moving stealthily toward the front door before his men were even all behind him. The roar of the bikes would have alerted anyone inside to their presence, so they needed to take extra precautions. He stopped and looked over his shoulder at Drevin. “Go to the garage and make sure everyone is okay in there.”

Drevin nodded and made his way around the back of the clubhouse.

Jagger’s heart was beating fast, and his blood pumping through his veins, making his muscles thicker, bigger, and getting him ready for the fight of his fucking life. There were a few prospects in the garage looking after the women and children, but he wanted a patched in member to check them out, and make sure they were all in one piece.

The front door was busted open, and the main window was nothing but a gaping hole in the side of the building with shards of glass sticking out. He made his way inside, stepping over broken glass and scanning the area. Dallas, Court, Diesel, and Brick were all behind him and moving just as stealthily. He instantly smelled blood and saw DeDe slumped against the wall with a gaping bullet hole in her belly. The prospect was dead as well, but it was either from the gunshot wound in his chest, or the massive hole on the side of his head from a piece of debris.

Bill-O was on the couch, and Jagger quickly moved toward him. He let out a breath of relief when he checked his pulse and found it. The old bastard was just unconscious. Dallas and Court moved up behind him, and Jagger didn’t need to tell them to get the old man out of the clubhouse. He motioned for Brick and Diesel to follow him. The three of them moved down that hallway silently. Inhaling deeply, he followed the scent of Trick and the smell of Stinger’s spilled blood. It took him to the office where the panic room was. The door was open and hanging on its hinges. Trick was sitting in a chair behind the desk. The automatic rifle sat on his lap, and a sick grin covered his face. The sound of Brick and Diesel cocking their guns right behind him didn’t have Jagger’s concentration fading from Trick. He could see out of the corner of his eye that Stinger was against the corner of the room and on the floor. But Jagger wasn’t about to turn his focus away from the bastard in front of him. But he did smell Stinger’s blood, and knew he had been shot. He was still alive, but barely.