The Outlaw's Obsession(47)

“I wondered how long it would take you to get here. Call the fucking guard dogs off, and you and I can talk about this President-to-President.” Jagger didn’t move, but when Trick grabbed his gun and pointed it at Stinger, Jagger lifted his hand for Brick and Diesel to put their weapons down. Trick grinned when Jagger told his men that he had this. He was not going to let anyone else die at the hands of this maniac.

“Let my guys take Stinger out of here, and you and I can deal with this as males.”

Trick chuckled and shook his head. “Fuck no. Tell those assholes to leave us alone.”

Jagger didn’t want Stinger in here when he needed medical help, but he also knew that although they outnumbered Trick, this guy was one fucked-up sociopath. Jagger waved his men back, and neither spoke until he sensed his men were down the hallway. But they were still on alert, and he knew if he needed them they would be there in an instant.

“All right, it’s just you and I.”

Trick was still grinning, but didn’t respond.

“There is only one way this is going to end, and that is you dead at my feet.” Jagger growled out the words.

“You know, you kill my men, take what’s mine, and have the balls to keep her here like she’s yours.” Trick pointed the gun at the ground and let off several shots.

“Stay the fuck back,” Jagger yelled out when he sensed his guys moving toward them form the hallway.

“That stupid club whore of yours betrayed you, man, but hey, her pussy was tight enough so it wasn’t all a loss.” Jagger didn’t move, but he knew Sonya was safe right below him in the panic room. “But Sonya is my property, and no one will have her but me,” Trick growled out and was out of the chair in a matter of seconds. He charged forward, but Jagger was ready for him.

They clashed together, and Jagger raised his gun in the shuffle and aimed it between their bodies. He got a shot off, heard Trick grunt, and smelled his blood. He roared out and heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming forward. Jagger yelled out for his men to stand down. This was between him and Trick, and Jagger was the one that was going to end his life for everything he had done to his club, his men, and his female.

Trick slammed the butt of his gun against the side of Jagger’s face, but he let his bear rise up and threw his arm out, slamming it into Trick’s gut. Trick stumbled back, not seeming affected by the hit, and raised the gun at Jagger. But Jagger was prepared and fell to the ground as Trick started firing. The sound of his men doing the same at least brought a little bit of peace to his mind. Jagger rose up slightly and aimed his gun right at Trick’s head. He had wanted to do this slow and cause a lot of pain, but it just needed to be over with.

Trick screamed out in rage, but Jagger was pulling the trigger again. Satisfaction filled him as he watched the bullet tear through Trick’s right eye. The gun slipped from Trick’s grasp, and he fell backward. The scent of his life fading filled the air in a nasty, sour stench. Jagger stood, and his men moved up behind him.

“Brick.” Jagger called out to his Sergeant at Arms. When Brick was right beside him he unsheathed the knife strapped at his waist and handed it to the other male. He saw the sadistic smile on Brick’s face, and although Trick was already dead, this would still bring pleasure to Brick.

His right hand man knelt beside the wolverine’s dead body and lifted his hand. He slowly brought the knife down across Trick’s face, but that wasn’t nearly enough for Brick. He started really tearing into the bastard, carving him up like a fucking Halloween pumpkin. Jagger turned away and moved toward the panic room.

“Baby, open the door for me.” Jagger spoke to himself, because there was no way for her to hear him. She clearly wouldn’t know how to activate the sound from the inside. He was on his knees by the entrance of the safe room and waited for agonizing seconds for her to open for him. The code to get out was by the inner keypad, and she had to be the one to unlock it. But finally the door popped open, and Sonya stared up at him with tears streaming down her face. “Come here, baby.”

She all but launched herself into his arms and started crying. “He killed DeDe and the prospect, and—” She lifted her head and looked at Stinger, but Court was already looking him over.

“Stinger will be okay.” At least he hoped he would be. They’d have to get him to the doctor that helped out the MC behind closed doors. “DeDe was helping Trick, trying to get you out of here, baby. She got what was coming to her for betraying us.” Jagger didn’t want to think about what would have happened if he hadn’t gotten to her in time, and she hadn’t been able to get in that safe room. All he wanted was to get Sonya out of this carnage. He picked her up and ignored her protest that she could walk. “You’re still trying to be strong, baby.” He smiled, and it was genuine. He kept moving until he was out of the clubhouse and had her seated on his bike. Jagger took a step back, kept hold of her hands in his, and stared at her. She lifted her hand and brushed her finger along his eyebrow. It stung, and he knew there would be a nasty fucking bruise from when Trick had knocked him in the face with his gun, but none of that mattered. “You’re okay?” He cupped both sides of her neck and leaned into her to rest his forehead against hers.