The Outlaw's Obsession(9)

“You, Trick.” She said it smoothly enough, but inside she felt dirty and vile, even after all these years.

He bared his teeth, like he was some kind of fucking wild animal. But then again that wasn’t very far off from the truth.

“Yeah, you fucking belong to me, bitch, and I want you to remember that when another MC comes sniffing around my club.”

Her heart thundered in her chest, but he either didn’t care about her reaction, or his mind was preoccupied on what was about to happen.

He slammed his mouth on hers, his teeth clashing against hers and causing bile to roil in her belly. Fortunately, he let go of her hair and pushed her away only seconds later. “You’ll remember that when they are here.”

“You don’t want me in my room?” The fact he was making it seem like she would actually see these males was a little startling.

“Oh, no, you’ll be in your fucking room.” Okay. She was a bit confused by why he was even saying any of this, but she stopped wondering why Trick did anything. He was a lunatic. He gripped her chin in a bruising hold, and she gasped. He was in a foul mood all of a sudden, and she assumed it had to do with whatever club was coming here. There were too many enemies of the Wolverines—at least that was what she always heard—that she couldn’t even begin to think of which one had suddenly put him in a nasty mood. All she kept telling herself was that soon, she would find a way out. “I have something very fun planned for you tonight, Sonya.” He grinned again, but it was mainly a snapping of his teeth. “It’s been too long since I really showed you how much you mean to me.”

Her throat dried and then closed, and she pressed her hands to her outer thighs. Trick stared at her right in the eyes, and a cold chill worked its way through her. She might have had sex with him recently, but the kind of promise he was talking about would involve pain, marks, and most likely blood.

How much more of this can you take, Sonya? It’s been seven years of you being his slave in every possible way. How many more welts from his belt, marks from his teeth, and the stench of everything that is evil from Trick covering you, can you handle? She had thought this over and over again. And she always came up with the same conclusion: As many as it took to stay alive.

“Now go in your room and stay there until I come for you.”

She went to turn away, not because he had ordered her to do it, but because she needed to get away from him.

Trick grabbed her arm, stilling her. “And leave your hair down, Sonya. I want to pull the shit out of it when you’re screaming tonight.”

Cold sweat dotted her brow. The type of screaming he anticipated was not from pleasure. It never was. He sounded far too excited over what he had planned. God, but how was she going to get out of here if she was always watched?



As soon as Jagger had stepped on Wolverine property his bear had risen up for a fight. This was always his animal’s reaction when he was close to shady as fuck males, but it had been years since they had been this close together. He turned and looked at Brick, who stood to his right. “You doing okay, brother?” Brick stood tense as hell, and the scent of his bear barely being restrained filled his nose. It was taking a lot for Brick to keep it together, and right now all Brick was focusing on was the male a few feet from them—Trick. Brick nodded in response to Jagger’s question.

“We gonna do this, or do you plan on comforting your MC?” Trick said with unrestrained amusement.

Jagger clenched his hands and told himself that this business deal needed to go through in order to get the Grizzlies into a less aggressive profession, so to speak. “Where do you want to talk about this?”

“Right here is fine,” Trick said in response to Jagger’s question. They were out in front of the Wolverines’ clubhouse, but if the asshole wanted to do this here so be it. There was enough acreage on Trick’s property that they were relatively safe from anyone hearing anything. Jagger liked the space anyway. It gave him and his boys more room to move around if shit got iffy.

Jagger nodded in approval and crossed his arms over his chest.

“So, you told me you’re trying to unload your hauling duties, right?” Trick asked.

Jagger nodded again.

“Yeah, been looking around for clubs that might be into taking over those duties. You were at the top of the list because of your connections in the drug line.”

Trick didn’t move, but his eyes told a lot. “How much is being hauled, how often, and what’s the payout?”

Diesel was on his left and Brick on his right. Drevin had stayed back to deal with Sticks and Jace in getting some things finalized with the underground fighting. Dallas, Court, and Stinger were standing behind them, and although he sensed their cool composure, each one of them was packing heavy enough firepower to blow some serious holes in these bastards if they wanted to do a repeat of last time. But they really didn’t need guns, because if they wanted this to finally end they could let their bears free. “Right now we are hauling two shipments a month. One from Dino’s crew in Denver and the other from Richie’s organization in Boulder. All we do is the drop-off to the designated destinations, and then they handle the rest.” Trick’s full interest was on the conversation, but Jagger knew he was waiting to see what the payout was. “Usually we do the pick-up some place between our club and their place, but there have been times we’ve had to do a run to a longer pick-up location.”