The Outlaw Stakes His Claim

  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2014 Jenika Snow

  ISBN: 978-1-77130-848-9

  Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

  Editor: Karyn White

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  Don't lose hope even when you feel it slipping through your fingers.

  THE OUTLAW STAKES HIS CLAIM

  The Grizzly MC, 5

  Jenika Snow

  Copyright © 2014

  Chapter One

  Dallas brought the bottle of Jack to his lips and took another long drink from the now half-empty bottle. He was on one of the leather couches watching as Stinger got a lap dance from one of the club whores. He was already drunker than fuck, feeling shittier than usual since he had gone to Maddix’s grave today to pay his respects, and just wanted to find oblivion. He held up the bottle of whiskey and looked at it. He was half-way there already, but he wanted to be so fucked up he didn’t know what was up and what was down. He took another long pull from the bottle and leaned back even further in the couch. Stinger had a joint between his lips and his hands on the club pussy’s ass as she shook that shit like it was going out of style. He had seen Meghan’s grave, too, and although they hadn’t really spoken civilly since the divorce, she still had been the mother of his son, and he had loved her at one time in his life.

  “Hey, baby.”

  Dallas turned and looked at Cotton, one of the newer club whores. She was wearing one of those dresses short enough that if a breeze moved past her he had no doubts her cunt would flash the world.

  “You look sad, baby.” She placed her hand on his thigh.

  Dallas couldn’t help the low growl that left him. But she was smart enough that she removed her hand and took a step back.

  “You not in the mood, Dallas?” She pouted, obviously thinking that she could seduce him with those glossy lips that had been dubbed by the MC as DSLs: dick suckin’ lips.

  “I’m not in the mood for you.” He really wasn’t a bastard, well, he hadn’t been until the accident that had taken Maddix and Meghan. “You’d be smart to walk away, Cotton. I’m in a foul mood, and the alcohol isn’t helping any.” He didn’t look at her, but he saw her take another step back out of the corner of his eye, and heard her swallow. These females might be here willingly, and give up their pussy like it was a buffet and they were the spread, but they knew what The Grizzly MC was, and that was cold–blooded, killing animals.

  He finished off the rest of the bottle and set the now empty Jack on the table beside him Yeah, he was a messed up bastard, one who was bringing a lot of people down with him. Maybe this was his punishment for all the messed up things he had done in his life? It would be fitting to take lives from him like he had done to so many others—even if the ones he had killed had been bad men that had done a lot of harm in this world. He needed more liquor, a fucking lot more alcohol to make this life bearable.

  ****

  One week later

  Hope took the winding mountain road and leaned forward so she could try to see out of her windshield. Rain pelted the glass, and her windshield wipers were doing a shit job of making the road in front of her visible. She had been running her whole life. It was not because she had a broken, ruined life, but because she was missing something. She just didn’t know what it was. Hope had been working her ass off since the age of fifteen. Living in a small town like Silver Springs, Colorado had been nice and homey, but of course it had its own set of problems. Secrets had been aplenty, and condemnation ran rampant. If someone didn’t fit into the mold that the residents of Silver Springs wanted, then they were seen as an outcast. She had experienced some of that, but had put that behind her, and was now starting her life over.

  Her family was loving, and although she hadn’t been the social type in school and didn’t have any friends she considered close, she had gotten through it—even if those four years before she graduated high school were hell in many ways. Life after high school had been slightly better. She attended the community college in Riverton, gotten her degree, and then it took her a year before she got offered a position for her specific area of study.

  At twenty-three she had seen herself in a big city, with tall buildings and people surrounding her. Hope wanted to be invisible, and a larger city could provide that for her. But where she was headed wasn’t big by any means. Steel Corner was certainly larger than Silver Springs, but after a year of sending out resumes she had finally gotten a formal invitation to work at a small printing press for the Steel Corner Gazette, and she had jumped at the opportunity. It certainly wasn’t the bustle of Denver, the artistic atmosphere of Boulder, and was just a small newspaper press, but it was a start.

  She took a slight left, and her Jeep hydroplaned for a second. She was able to get control of the car, but her heart was already slamming hard behind her ribs. Maybe if she was a superstitious person she might have thought this was a bad omen on her move. Her GPS chimed out in the female voice with a slight English accent that she was ten minutes from Steel Corner.

  The trees thinned out right before the very beautiful, but frightening view of Steel Corner Lake came into view on her left hand side. It wasn’t the largest lake she had ever seen, but it certainly was the most frightening, especially right now. Her Jeep hydroplaned once more, and she swerved to the right. Hope tightened her hands on the steering wheel and pulled off to the side of the road. She hated driving in this kind of weather, but it seemed the higher she climbed the mountainside the worse the rain came down. Waiting until it cleared up a bit sounded like the smart and sane thing to do. Hope hadn’t seen a car on the road in at least half an hour, but no one in their right mind would be trying to navigate these winding mountain roads in this weather. Well, no one but her.

  She looked out the driver’s side window and stared at the lake. It was huge but with the rain coming down, from the distance, it looked ominous and dark, hence why she thought it was one of the most frightening things she had seen. She was so focused on lake in front of her that she hadn’t spotted the person parked off the side of the road across from her. He was a little ways from where she was parked, but what was clear was that he was standing beside a motorcycle. Clearly he had pulled off until the storm ended. She squinted and ran her hand over her window, cleaning off some of the fog that started to coat the glass. It was hard to really make him out, but he had something written on the back of the leather vest he wore. He stood a few feet from his bike, his arms hanging by his side.

  For a minute or two all she did was stare at him. Should she see if he was okay? He didn’t seem hurt, and just stood there staring at the lake. And Hope certainly shouldn’t have even been thinking about talking to a man on the side of the road, but she couldn’t push away the nagging voice that there might be something wrong. She rolled down the window halfway, and wind and rain instantly came through and slammed into her face.

  “Hey?” She had to yell over the howl of wind.

  He didn’t turn around.

  “Hey. Are you okay?” She yelled even louder, and wiped her face with her hand when a huge gust of wind had the rain slapping against her skin like an open palm.

  He slowly turned and looked at her over his shoulder. Even through the distance and the horrid weather, she could see the big droplets flatten his blond hair to his head, and slide down his big, muscular body. His clothes were soaked, and she realized that the vest he wore wasn’t just an article of clothing, but a declaration of the MC he was in. She may be from an even smaller town than Steel Corner and may not have been able to fully see it before because of the weather, but she knew enough about motorcycle clubs to see a cut when it was a few feet from her. It felt like they stared at each other for long minutes.

  “Are you okay?”

  Again, he didn’t answer her, and instead turned back around and shoved his hands in his jeans.

  Okay.

  She rolled up her window, locked the doors, and reached in her backseat for a rag. Once she had most of the water cleaned off her face, she glanced at him once more. He was in the same position, but the awkward encounter—or lack thereof—had her rather braving the roads and weather than idle so close to him. He clearly didn’t want help, and so she’d be on her way. Hope started her Jeep and pulled back onto the road. She hoped the weather and the strange interaction with the biker weren’t some big red sign that fate was shoving in her face that she needed to turn around.

  ****

  Dallas didn’t care that it was cold as fuck, that he was soaked to the bone, or that he probably looked like some kind of dumb asshole for standing out in the rain on the side of the road. None of that mattered, and he didn’t give a shit what anyone thought of him.

  It had been months since he lost Maddix and Meghan in that car accident, and although he had been estranged for the most part from his ex-wife and son, it still hurt like hell. He was a bastard for not taking more of an active role in Maddix’s life, and a shit father on top of that. Dallas stared out at the lake and
watched at the murky, grey overcast skin rained down. It looked like a veil from this distance, like this dirty, cold, and heartless veil trying to cover up the beauty. That was how Dallas felt inside, how he had felt inside for a long time. Even before their deaths he had always felt this inky darkness deep in the pits of his body. To say he tried to fuck it out of himself, to use alcohol and drugs to release it, would have been an understatement because he had tried that tenfold and it never helped.

  He wanted a joint, wanted the sweet burn of marijuana filling his lungs and numbing his body. But it was a shit time to try to smoke one. Water covered him until his bones felt like ice, ready to snap in half without any kind of provocation. Since hearing about what happened to Meghan and Maddix he had tried to act normal in front of the other MC members. Hiding behind the farce that everything was fine seemed like a far better plan than trying to talk that shit out. He was dead inside, this cold bastard that was a pro at playing it off like everything was okay. But then there had been that shit with Diesel and his old lady, and Dallas telling the first and only person about what had really happened.

  Short pieces of hair feel into his eyes, but he didn’t bother pushing them away. He just didn’t care. What he was going to do was get on his bike and go to the nearest bar. There he would drink enough liquor to make sure he didn’t care about anything, that he didn’t think about anything, and that black oblivion took him away.

  Dallas stood there for another ten minutes until the rain let up. It was nearing dusk, and he turned and headed toward his bike. Once on he got back on the road he headed into Steel Corner. Although it was a small town there were several bars and one that catered to the MC and any Grizzly passing through. But he didn’t want to be around anyone that he was close with, and he knew no one he knew would want to be around him when he was in this volatile mood either.

  Chapter Two

  Hope walked over to the motel window and pulled the curtains away. There was a little bar and restaurant across the street and the neon sign flashed off and on letting patrons know it was open. It looked like a little hole-in-the-wall kind of place, but Hope’s stomach grumbled, despite the fact she was exhausted from the five hour drive. Turning and grabbing her purse and jacket off the bed, she left her room and walked across the parking lot. The smell of the fresh rainfall clung in the air. She had stopped at this motel—one that was quaint, small, but kind of homey. There would probably not be a more known hotel in town, at least not one she noticed when she had been researching the place.

  A few cars drove by and she hurried across the street once they passed. A few Harleys were parked in front of the bar, along with some trucks and a couple beat-up cars. She tightened her jacket around herself, and although it wasn’t really cold outside the fresh storm and the wind blowing by had a chill in the air. Hope couldn’t help but think about that man she had seen on the side of the road. He had been so big, and even from the distance had looked so powerful standing there with the rain pelting him. But he hadn’t cared, and she had seen that in his eyes when he had looked at her. She pushed all of that away, because it wasn’t her concern, and honestly she should have been smarter than to ask him if he was okay and if he needed anything. It was dangerous, foolish, and clearly he was unstable to just be standing out there like that. Shaking her head and pushing all of that away was harder than it should have been, which she found odd and disconcerting.

  She reached for the handle of the front door, but it slammed open and hit the brick wall. Hope moved back a few steps when a clearly drunk couple came stumbling out. The woman was hanging off of the guy and giggling.

  “I think you are trying to take advantage of me, Duke.” Her words were slurred together, and the man was obviously holding her up.

  He grunted. “Doll, ain’t no one got to take advantage of you. Everyone knows you spread that pussy for free.” The guy stopped and looked over at Hope. He eyed her up and down and his smile spread across his face. His beard was greasy looking, long, and littered with white hair. He wore a dirty bandana, and it looked like he hadn’t bathed in a while. “Ain’t never seen you here before.”

  “Dukie, come on. I’m horny.”

  The guy grinned, and he flashed his yellowing teeth once more. “Duty calls, but maybe you and I will see each other again.”

  Not likely. Fortunately he didn’t bother Hope again, and hauled the woman to one of the rusted pick-up trucks. If she wasn’t so hungry she might have turned right back around and gone to her room, but what would that have accomplished? This was her home now. She would be starting her job in the next week and a half, and she was going to have to get used to seeing this stuff. Not every place was small and quaint like her home had been. But Hope had never been one to have thick skin, never able to let things go, and had always been called a “sensitive soul”. She saw that as a weakness and not a strength, just like her mother had told her.

  “You’re not in Kansas anymore, Hope.” She shook her head and grabbed the handle of the door. Once inside she waited a minute for her eyes to adjust to the dimness. The place was just as small on the inside as it appeared on the outside. There was a bar right across from the front entrance where a few men were sitting at the bar, and a handful of tables scattered around. It smelled musty, like spilled beer and old cigarette smoke. A jukebox was in one corner, and a pool table that looked like it had seen better days in the other. Hope felt out of place, very much so, but she wasn’t going to run away. That had never solved anything, at least not where she was concerned. Ugh, not now. You will not think about Parker now. Yeah, thinking about her ex-boyfriend was not where she wanted her thoughts right now, but it was hard to not think about the first guy she had thought she had been in love with.

  She went further into the bar, and the door shut behind her. It was one of those situations—the ones that she only saw in movies—where it seemed like everyone stopped what they were doing to see this strange woman walking into their bar. But just as soon as everyone glanced at her they went back to playing pool, talking loudly and obscenely, and guzzling back the beer.

  “Hi. Table or the bar?”

  Hope looked over at the young woman beside her that had spoken. She couldn’t be more than twenty-one, but wore enough make-up to have her appearing she was at least ten years older than that, and clothes so tight and revealing that they left nothing to the imagination. The girl would have been so much more beautiful without all of the crap on her face, that was evident.

  “Are you here to eat or drink?” the woman asked again.

  “Eat, please.”

  The girl nodded and smiled broadly. Her bright red painted lips stretched across her white teeth. She led Hope toward one of the very back tables, set a menu that looked like it hadn’t been washed in a few years, and left. But before Hope even had her jacket off or the menu open the waitress was back with a glass of water set in front of her and her little notepad out.

  “You figure out what you want?”

  “Mara, why don’t you come on over here and show Pappa some attention,” a man over by the pool table yelled out.

  The waitress turned around and lifted her hand to give him the finger. There was a round of laughter, and then Mara was turning back and giving her attention to Hope. “Sorry, ‘bout that. This is the type of men that hang out at the edge of town.” She grinned widely. “They come here from the few towns over, mainly good guys, but horny as all get-out.”

  Hope slowly nodded, because she really didn’t know what to say.

  “You new in Steel Corner or passing through?”

  “New.” The sound of a bottle shattering came from the other side of the room. Hope half expected to see a brawl break out, but all she saw was men slapping each other on the back and throwing their heads back to laugh.

  “Well, this is a good town to live in, quiet most of the time, but the MC pretty much keeps things in order and people in line.”