by Jenika Snow
Damn, clean up your thoughts.
His cock punched forward like some kind of damn animal, and once again he felt like a sick fuck for watching her while she slept, and for thinking about what she would look like naked. It was wrong, but then again that had never stopped Jagger from doing what he wanted to do. And he had done a lot of bad things in his life. For whatever reason, he wanted this female, had from the moment he had seen her standing by the truck. And when he had realized she was hurt, his bear had risen up, and the need to tend to her and protect her had slammed into him like another living entity.
Her dark hair was a mess around the white pillow, and her skin was pretty pale. Even with her eyes closed he remembered how blue they had been when she stared at him. Fuck, he was hard, and here she was passed out. He felt like a fucking pervert, especially when his guys were standing around him and could smell his arousal for her. Jagger scrubbed a hand over his face, turned away from her, and headed out of the room and shut the door behind him. His crew followed suit. When she woke up they had a lot of questions for her. She couldn’t stay at the clubhouse any longer than it took to heal her shoulder. The thought of her leaving had his bear getting a bit pissed. No, this female made him feel unstable, and that was a complication Jagger did not need in his life, least of all now. What he needed was a hard drink to wash away the death of today, as well as the effects this female was having on not only his animal side, but the roughened MC human side as well.
****
Sonya sat up quickly, but doing that had a sharp pain zinging from her shoulder all the way to her arm. She looked at her shoulder, and although the room was dark, and night had clearly fallen as was evident through the window across from her, light from a floodlight outside came through the window. She didn’t have a shirt on, but her bra was intact, and a thick bandage covered her shoulder. It was white, almost seeming to glow in the shadowed room, but a dark stain had seeped through the dressing. Sweat covered her forehead from the pain that throbbed in her arm, and the fact the nightmare she had just experienced was too realistic for her liking. It was hard to breathe through those two things. Everything was vividly fresh in her mind, and her heart thundered.
Where was she? All she remembered was those frighteningly looking MC members that had been covered in blood and wounds, and that seemed to be the only ones left standing after the fight. But then she remembered seeing blood moving down her arm. The prospect had clearly shot her, but after that she couldn’t remember anything. Had those men taken her to their place? If so, why? They obviously knew she was affiliated with Trick, so why would they bring her anywhere when letting her die with the rest of the Wolverines would have been a lot easier and less complicated on their part?
God, all these questions made her head hurt. She covered her forehead with a hand and closed her eyes. Throat parched and desperately in need of some water, Sonya grabbed the sheet pooled at her waist and wrapped it around her body.
The room wasn’t anything spectacular, pretty bare really, but there were a few posters on the wall with naked women straddling Harleys. There was a dresser, a few end tables, and the bed, but that was it. She headed toward the bathroom that was visible because of the light from the outside shining through the open doorway. After turning on the harsh light, she gave her eyesight a minute to adjust and then stared at herself in the mirror. Eh. She looked like death run over twice, especially with her matted hair on one side, the bags under her eyes, and her normally pale complexion looking even pastier. But she was alive, and, she hoped, away from Trick and the Wolverines, so the rest didn’t matter. A stack of hand towels and washcloths were on a shelf in the corner, and she grabbed one.
After washing her face with one of the cloths, mindful of every movement since the pain was enough to have her eyes watering, she tossed the used towel into the hamper. Staring at her reflection once more, she looked at the bandage covered in blood. Picking at the corner until she could grab hold of the edge, she slowly peeled it back to reveal the nasty looking hole in her shoulder. Twisting around, she looked at her back, saw another bandage, and peeled that one away, too. There was an exit wound, and she was at least thankful the bullet wasn’t still in her, or that they had to dig it out.
After pressing the bandage back in place she turned off the light and stepped out of the bathroom, but a very huge form, almost looming by the partially ajar bedroom door, had a squeak of surprise and fear coming from her.
“Calm down.” His voice was deep, and she instantly knew it was him, the man from Trick’s that made her feel all kinds of strange things.
She still took a step back, though.
“If I wanted to hurt you, I could have done it a hundred different ways already.” He closed the door, and once again the room became washed in obliqueness. His voice was deep and husky and made something inside of her simmer to life. “Here.” He took a step forward, and she moved one back. She didn’t think this man would hurt her, but she also didn’t know what he expected from her, or why he hadn’t left her to die. He tossed a pair of clothes on the bed. “I don’t know if they will fit, but at least they will cover you up. It’s either those or some club whore outfit from one of the other females.”
Okay, so she was at his MC compound gauging by the fact he was referring to women as “club whores.”
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions, and so do I. But get dressed, and come on out to the main room.”
She slowly nodded, eyed the clothes on the bed, and looked back at him.
“I’ll just wait in the hall. Are you hungry, thirsty?” The little bit of tap water she had gotten from the facet had done the job of quenching her thirst, but it was nasty-ass water with a rusty flavor.”
She nodded again. He didn’t move, but the look he gave her made Sonya feel like a bug under a microscope.
“You don’t talk? Or you can’t?”
She swallowed and then licked her lips. She was being rude. “I’m sorry. I just don’t really know what to say, or exactly why you didn’t leave me out there to die.” Again, he didn’t move, but after a few second he nodded and tilted his head toward the bedroom door.
“I’ll be waiting in the hall for you to dress.”
“Okay, thank you.”
He nodded again. “Are you in pain?”
As if on instinct she placed a hand on her shoulder, which started throbbing at his question. The strange thing was as soon as she had seen him in her room she had totally forgotten about the pain until he had just brought it up.
“Yeah.”
“We can give you something for that.” With that he turned and left, shutting the door behind him and leaving her in darkness once more.
Sonya exhaled, not realizing she had been holding in that one breath. She walked over to the clothes, saw they weren’t anything but a pair of sweats and a white tee, but it was a hell of a lot better than her current topless state and dirt covered jeans. After dressing quickly she made her way to the door.
Why are you so nervous? Everything will be okay. At least that is what she told herself trying to be optimistic. What if these bikers were no better than Trick and his men? What if they meant to keep her here against her will? Right now she was just speculating, because until she talked to that beast of a man out there, she was a free woman.
Chapter Five
Jagger leaned against the wall in the hallway and stared at the closed bedroom door. He honestly hadn’t thought she’d be up and walking around, and had gone in to see how she was doing. But when he had seen her wrapped in that sheet, her chest heaving and her breasts pressed against the too thin material, his animal had gone ballistic inside of him. He was hard, but there was really no surprise there since he had been that way since he had seen her. The smell of her, something sweet and arousing, was all it had taken to have his dick standing at attention. The door opened, and he straightened off the wall. She stepped out of the room, and instantly his bear started pushing for supremacy. Normally he’d let the bastard out, let h
“Thank you for the clothes.” She picked at the shirt that molded to her breasts and left nothing to the imagination. The clothes weren’t anything spectacular, and in fact were a bit snug on her, but it was either get some that would semi-fit her, or bring her a set of his and she’d be swimming in them. She looked at her feet, and her awkwardness in the situation was a tingling in his nose. The sweats showed off her generous thighs, and he knew as soon as she turned around her ass would be popping.
“You’re welcome. Come on. We can go in one of the smaller rooms and talk.” He gestured for her to go ahead of him even though she wouldn’t know where to go, but dammit, Jagger wanted to see her ass. She hesitated for a moment, but moved forward, and he zeroed in on the rounded, jiggling mounds of her butt. Fuck. He scrubbed a hand over his head, but couldn’t take his eyes off the way her cheeks moved up and down as she slowly moved forward. All kinds of nasty, sexual things slammed into his head in vivid color, and his dick throbbed. He needed to get his shit together and stop thinking about fucking this female. Jagger forced himself to move ahead of her, but walking was pretty uncomfortable given the fact he was sporting massive wood.
He led her to the back of the clubhouse, away from the drinking, drugs, and sex going on in the main room. He stopped in front of what had been used as an unofficial office, but was mainly used to store shit. He supposed he could have just talked to her in the bedroom, but for some reason he didn’t want her to make her even more uncomfortable, and staying in the bedroom seemed overly intimate and a little dangerous. And since when do you give a fuck about making anyone comfortable? On every other occasion that was true, but for some reason he felt different with this female, and he didn’t even know her name.
He pushed the office door open and gestured for her to enter. She moved past him, and the sweet scent of her filled his nose in a concentrated whiff. He couldn’t stop the growl that left him, and she tensed instantly from the sound. But he placed a hand on her lower back, nearly growled again at the feel of his hand on her body, and forced himself to gently push her forward. What in the fuck was his problem? Or better yet, why was his bear acting like some kind of territorial motherfucker? He stepped in behind her, turned on the light, and shut the door. There were several boxes lined up against one side of the room, a scarred and dented metal desk across from that with some older manila envelopes on it, and a ratty brown tweed couch on the other side of the room.
“Go ahead and have a seat.” He pointed to the couch, and when she was seated he grabbed one of the folding chairs leaning against the wall and sat in front of her. For a second neither said anything, but he could feel her nervousness as if it was his own. He also saw the fact she noticed his erection, and knew some of how she felt was because she probably thought he was just as fucked up as Trick had been and would attack her any second. Jagger could be a bastard, had done some pretty awful things in his life, but taking females against their will was not something he had ever done, nor would he ever do.
“Why did you bring me back here? Wherever here is?” She licked her lips, but Jagger forced himself not to watch the act.
He leaned back in the chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and spread his legs slightly so he was in a more comfortable position.
She looked down at his cut, and he saw her scanning his patches.
“It would have been pretty fucking shitty to leave you there and die when it was clear you were trying to escape.” He lifted an eyebrow at her. “You were trying to leave, right?”
She nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“So, why don’t you tell me what the hell is going on, and then we can figure out what the next step is.” The sound of her heart beating faster filled his ears. “Listen.” He sighed and leaned forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. “No one will hurt you, okay?” He scented that she didn’t trust him, but that was expected and smart of her. She didn’t know shit about him, and if he had assumed right the life with Trick had been pretty damn bad. “What did that fucker do to you to make you so scared?”
She averted his eyes to her lap and didn’t speak for several seconds, but Jagger gave her that time. He could see on her face that she was getting her thoughts in order.
“How about we start with names?”
She lifted her head and nodded.
“My name is Tallin Landon, but everyone calls me Jagger.”
“I’m Sonya White.”
“Okay, good. This is a start.” At least they were getting somewhere. “How old are you, Sonya?”
“Twenty-two.”
Shit, she was young.
“You’re the president of this MC?” She tilted her head to his cut, as if pointing out his President patch.
“Yeah.”
“Were you guys enemies? I mean your club and Trick’s?”
“Everyone was Trick’s enemy.”
She nodded, looked down at her lap, and then ran her tongue along her bottom lip. She shrugged. “I saw you guys talking, and then everything went south.”
He smirked, but it wasn’t because anything was humorous. He wasn’t about to get into club business and the history he had with Trick, but looking at her, Jagger could tell that she wasn’t a stranger to the insanity that came with the Wolverine MC President.
“I guess I’ll start from the beginning and give you the condensed version.” She looked up again at him. He really wished she would relax, but he reminded himself that she didn’t know him, or what her fate was. “Trick wanted my father’s land, but my dad didn’t want to give it up. It had been in his family for generations. But Trick wouldn’t take no for an answer. Long story short when I was fifteen he killed both of my parents, and took me.”
Fuck, she had been a captive of Trick’s since she was fifteen?
“Jesus Christ.”
She averted her eyes and nodded her head. “He didn’t start touching me until after I was eighteen. I guess I have that to be thankful for.”
Jagger didn’t say anything, because shit, he honestly didn’t know what to say. What he did know was that he was pissed, and growing even more enraged at the thought of Trick, or any male for that matter, putting their hands on this female. He didn’t know what it was about her that caused this reaction inside of him, but he didn’t care. It was what it was, and this need to protect her was intensified at the knowledge that she had been taken from her home as a child and then used by one sick motherfucker. She continued talking about the way Trick treated her like a damn a piece of property. The more he listened, the harder it became for him to keep his bear in check. With each word that came out of her mouth, his blood boiled harder, and his need to shift, or at least go out and destroy something, became unbearable. It was like a valve had been opened with her, and the words were just flowing out on their own. Clearly she had never spoken to anyone about the trauma she had endured.
“And then there was the abuse, the sadistic treatments that he liked to inflict because he got off on it.” She visibly shivered.
Jagger curled his fingers into his palms. The need to go to her, wrap his arms around her, and pull her to the safety of his chest rode him hard. But he didn’t know how she would react and didn’t want to freak her out even more. Although violence was a part of his everyday life, he had never been involved in a case like this, but what he knew was he wasn’t about to walk away.
“There wasn’t an opportunity for you to get help, or maybe escape?” Even after the words left him he knew he shouldn’t have said them. They seemed callous, despite the fact he hadn’t meant for them to be that way.
Sonya shook her head and brushed away the one tear that slid down her cheek. “I tried, more than once when he first took me, but all that got me was harder hits, and scars to show what would happen if I did it again. Besides, Trick always had someone watching me, and the only phones at the clubhouse were the cells the members used. And the only time he let me out of the clubhouse was to roam around the property with one of his guys always by me.”
A low, rough growl left him. She hadn’t been into a town where civilization was in seven fucking years? Jagger lowered his head and stared at the ground. He clenched and unclenched his hands, tried breathing through his nose and out his mouth, but he needed to fuck some shit up.
I survived, and that is all that matters.”
He looked up at her when she spoke. Her voice was low, but he heard the hurt laced in her words.
“I’m not broken, not ruined from any of that, despite Trick trying to do just that. In fact I feel stronger because of it all.”
Jagger stared into her bright blue eyes. Yes, she was a strong female, and he was glad this shit hadn’t defined who she was.
“Even though escaping seemed like an impossible act, I never gave up. I saw your club’s truck at the clubhouse, and knew I had to try once more. It was like fate had stepped in once more, and I wasn’t about to cower because I was afraid of the repercussions.”
“I’m glad you were able to get away. I’m just sorry it took this long.”
She smiled at him, and it was a warm and genuine one. “I’m still alive, and what has happened has just shown me that I can get through just about anything.” She shrugged, but kept her smile. “Besides, now that Trick is dead I can finally start moving forward.”
Jagger stared at her, and he hated what he was about to say, but she needed to know. “Trick and one of his members took off in the woods.” For a moment she didn’t move, didn’t even blink, but slowly her worry and fear morphed her beautiful smile and made her expression horror-filled.
“He’ll come for me.” She became tenser, and her voice cracked on the end.
Jagger didn’t stop himself from going to sit next to her on the couch. She straightened when he sat beside her, but he was just as surprised by his actions as she was. Never had he given a shit about a female’s feelings. He had only fucked them. That was it.
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