Owned by the Outlaw Page 2

  ****

  Malice ground his teeth and stared at the now closed bedroom door that Molly had just disappeared behind. He felt like this every time he saw Molly. It was like the old feelings that he had when with her came back, but they weren’t the bone deep kind of love they’d once had. Malice was a possessive man by nature, always had been and always would be. Maybe it was because of that that he was still having these issues over letting things go? When they had broken it off he had already known things were over well before then. He hadn’t been around as much as he should have been. Although that had been the time when Lucien had been just starting to get things started with forming the charter he couldn’t use that as an excuse. Molly was right. He wasn’t in love with her anymore, but she was the mother of his child, and there would always be a place in his heart for her. “Fuck.” He breathed out and ran a hand through his hair.

  “You good, man?”

  Tuck came out of the room where everyone was hanging out, several empty beer cans in his hold and a glossy look in his eyes. Several of the guys were buzzed, while others were staying sober to keep watch on the women. This whorehouse was as safe as the clubhouse, but the girls had been through hell, and taking that extra step to ensure they felt protected was paramount.

  “I’m fine, just Molly bullshit.”

  Tuck nodded, but Malice knew it was more of a reaction than an understanding. Malice didn’t go around spouting off his personal business to the guys, not because he didn’t trust them, but because it wouldn’t have helped. The club was his family, but bitching about feeling like he still had some kind of claim on Molly—his ex-old lady—wouldn’t have anyone doing anything but busting his balls.

  Tuck stopped and stared at Malice. He dropped a can, and the empty aluminum bounced off the hardwood floor. “You want to talk about it?”

  Malice was sure as shit not going to get into this with Tuck when Molly was just down the hallway, so he said nothing.

  Tuck shrugged. “How do you feel about her being in Steel Corner?” Tuck leaned down and grabbed the can. “I know you guys broke it off a while ago, but I also got the feeling it was kind of unfinished.” Tuck let out a belch and then immediately started laughing.

  “I’m not about to get into this right now.” Malice had been friends with Tuck for longer than he could even remember, and normally Tuck was a somber man, but when he drank he let loose a little. Malice shook his head and grinned. He couldn’t help it, especially when Tuck started rambling off about eating pussy out and how the woman was so loud his ears rang. Malice took hold of Tuck’s arm and led him away from the foyer and into a more private area. No reason why the women needed to hear this shit, especially after what they had been through.

  “Damn.” Tuck put the can in the trash by the kitchen sink and leaned on the counter. “I’m drunk.” Tuck looked over at Malice. There was no amusement any longer on the other man’s face. “I shouldn’t have gotten this bad, but honestly, just thinking about what that fucking pimp and his motherfucking friends did to those girls…” Tuck closed his eyes and exhaled. “I feel murderous all over again.”

  Malice gripped his shoulder and squeezed. “I know, man. Shit like this really makes you think about life, and how maybe we aren’t so bad after all.”

  Tuck nodded, and just like that there was no more talk about Molly, or Malice’s arrogant and stubborn ass.

  “Come on, you need to sleep this off.” Malice took hold of Tuck’s arm and helped him out of the kitchen and to one of the spare rooms. He left Tuck alone and headed back down the hallway. He passed Molly’s closed bedroom door, but kept his ass moving away. Yeah, he had some baggage, and he needed to deal with it, or he might very well push her away for good, and then where the fuck would he be in seeing his kid?

  Chapter Two

  Stinger pulled his Harley to a stop beside the other bikes of the Grizzly MC. They were meeting The Brothers of Menace at the property they had talked about a week ago, the one that was a possibility of being a place the battered women The Brothers had taken in could heal and recuperate. This was a hefty cost to help a bunch of females that Lucien and his crew had no claim over, and an expense they wouldn’t be getting reimbursed, but Stinger had a feeling Lucien was going to offer work to the females. Maybe he wouldn’t have them sleep with high profile johns, but he would have them doing something that would help bring in revenue to The Brothers MC: bookkeeping, cooking, cleaning, or some other domestic duty. The MC may be hardcore, but they were fair. They didn’t force anything on women and had gone out of their way to go to Denver to help the females … just because.

  The Grizzlies all cut their engines, and Stinger stared at the debilitated house and barn on the property. It would need a fuckload of work to make it even livable, and Stinger had a feeling the Grizzly MC would be having a hand in helping with the work. They all dismounted and stood by their bikes for several minutes. It was another cold day, but with fall creeping up on them it would get colder yet. The sound of Harleys approaching had them turning and watching as The Brothers of Menace ascended the narrow strip of dirt road. They parked on the other side of the Grizzlies’ bikes, and cut their engines.

  For humans they have a scent of danger and violence that surrounded them. It had been the first thing Stinger had smelled when they had first come to the clubhouse and put the offer on the table to use Steel Corner’s streets to transport their females. A shifter might be physically stronger than a human any day of the week, but there was something dark and deadly about these human males, and something that piqued Stinger’s interest for violence. It would be an interesting night to watch some of Lucien’s crew come to the barn for a little human-on-human bare-knuckle fighting. Since they agreed to fight for the underground, Sticks was setting shit up for it to be an all-out bloody night. It wouldn’t be like the shifter fights that were held at one of the buildings the Grizzly MC owned. Although a shifter and human going head-to-head would certainly be one hell of a fight, Stinger knew Jagger and Sticks wouldn’t go for it. There was plenty of blood and gore to go around when shifters fought each other. Stinger was holding out that one of these days he’d see a fight with both humans against shifters going at each other’s throats.

  Lucien turned and said something to his VP, Kink, and then something to his Sergeant at Arms, Malice. The sight of that dark haired human had all kinds of images moving through Stinger. For one thing, the picture of Molly slammed into his head. It had been a week since he had seen her at that warehouse, and it had been seven days of him not being able to get her out of his head. As soon as he saw her with a mop of red hair piled atop her head and that curvy fucking body putting all kinds of fucked up images in his head—ones that should make him feel like a vile bastard—she was all he could think of. He didn’t know what it was about her but his bear had risen up violently, clawed him from the inside out to escape its human prison and go to her. It had been at that moment that he had wanted to claim her so powerfully no one could deny that she was his, and those thoughts were dangerous for them both. At least Dallas had been the reasonable one to hold his crazy ass back when he had actually gone to her. He couldn’t have helped it though, not when he saw how angry she had been speaking to Malice. Stinger didn’t know their history but he didn’t need to be a shifter to know they had a past.

  Lucien faced the Grizzlies and pulled off his sunglasses. He made his way toward them, and stopped when Jagger met him halfway. They clapped each other on the back in a brotherly fashion and then Lucien addressed the rest of them. “Thanks for heading out here and taking a look at this property.”

  There was a murmur of grunts from the Grizzlies.

  “The club has just invested in this piece of property.” Lucien turned and faced the buildings. “Clearly it needs a lot of work, but I’ve already contacted some contractors and had the material ordered at wholesale.”

  “This is a long process, man. It’s going to take a lot of manpower and although the Grizzlies are more than willing to help it’s going to take more than a little over a dozen men to get this done quickly,” Jagger said.

  Lucien was still staring at the two structures, but he nodded. “I have some Nomads coming in from a few states to help out. Of course they’re passing through anyway, but they have offered to get this done.” Lucien turned around and looked at each of them. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a cigarette. Stinger could smell the black clove smoke right away, and as soon as Lucien lit the end the sweet scent intensified.

  “What’s your plan for the females?” Diesel took a step forward and stood beside Jagger.

  Lucien inhaled a few times from his clove cigarette, flicked the ash to the side, and grinned. “Why do you care?” The Brothers’ President may be smiling, but it wasn’t a humorous one. It had a bite to it, and his words were clipped.

  “I ask because I want to make sure those females aren’t fucked over any more than they have been,” Diesel gritted out, and Stinger sensed his VP’s bear rising.

  A few of Lucien’s men took a step forward but Lucien held up his hand to stop them. He stared right at Diesel and took a step forward. He was a courageous motherfucker, as the human had to sense the animal prowling inside of Diesel. “If I wanted those females hurt I would have left them with that lowlife piece of shit pimp that was beating them.” Lucien took an angry inhale from his clove until there wasn’t much of it left. He flicked the butt aside and exhaled the smoke that was left in his lungs. “These women are under The Brothers of Menace’s protection, and if you knew anything about us you’d know we don’t take that shit lightly.” Lucien’s face was hard and unyielding.

  “Yeah, we know, but wanted to make sure.” Jagger’s voice was just as u
nyielding.

  The sound of a phone going off had Stinger looking over at Malice. The male wasn’t too far away from him, and so when he answered Stinger could hear Molly’s voice come through like a punch to his gut. Fuck, what was it about the female that had him feeling so uneasy? He knew the other Grizzlies had found their old ladies, and it was only he and Drevin who were left as the odd males out. But despite that Stinger had never given two shits about not claiming a woman for himself until he had seen Molly. He had always been content fucking club pussy because it was convenient and always willing. But Molly wasn’t anything like the Grizzly MC club whores. She was strong in the regard that she didn’t feel the need to give up her body because she thought it would please a bunch of outlaw bikers. And she was so fucking smart. He had watched her that night he escorted the females to The Brothers’ cabin. The way she tended to their wounds, explained the healing process, and just talked to them proved she was a female of worth.

  Malice spoke softly into the phone, and although Stinger knew there had been something between the biker and Molly, there was clearly no doubt about that now, especially when Malice started talking about a little boy named Dakota. Yeah, he was listening in on the conversations, and as douche-baggy as that was, he couldn’t bring himself to turn away from the soft melodic tone of Molly’s voice.

  “I told you that I’d come to Brighton to get Dakota.” A beat of silence passed after Malice spoke. “It makes no sense you coming all the way up here. That’s a fucking five hour drive if there isn’t any traffic.” Malice ran his hands through his unbound hair and sighed an expletive. “Whatever, Molly. Do whatever the fuck you want. You do that anyways. Yeah … okay … bye.” Malice hung up, stared at the ground for a few seconds, and then finally turned around. His and Stinger’s gazes clashed, and Malice narrowed his eyes.

  Stinger smirked. He didn’t know why he had done that, didn’t really fucking care if it pissed the biker off. In fact, he was glad Malice was annoyed with him. But the jealousy that Stinger felt over the biker was unjust and out of place. Molly wasn’t his, wouldn’t be his, and he needed to just back away from that whole situation. But the need for her was strong, like this living entity pumping through his veins and stealing all common sense of what he should and shouldn’t do. If she had once been Malice’s old lady, it was clear the man was still hung up on her, and the fact they had a kid together would already have the possessive human even more territorial of her.

  “You got something on your mind, brother?” Malice took a step forward at the same time he ground out those words. This asshole must have bigger balls than Lucien when it came to confronting a shifter. Before Stinger could answer Malice was speaking again. “You listening to my conversation?”

  Stinger rolled his head on his neck at the sound of those words. The scent of possessiveness came from Malice like a sledgehammer right to Stinger’s gut. He bared his teeth, not sure why he was feeling this irrational rage burning brightly inside of him. He opened his mouth to tell Malice he didn’t have an old lady, not knowing exactly what he was going to say because right now he felt out of his fucking element, but at the last minute he snapped his mouth closed. This isn’t your place. Keep your fucking mouth shut, just back away from this and go on with your business.

  “You guys better not be about to lay down shit right here.” Jagger stepped between him and Malice.

  Lucien started chuckling, and they all glanced at him. “These boys just need a good fuck or fight.” He tipped his chin toward the house. “Cut the shit, Malice. You can fuck a few club whores later tonight.”

  “I have Dakota later tonight.” Malice was still staring at Stinger, but finally turned toward his President. “Let’s get this shit finished. I got a fight to handle so I can go see my kid.” He stalked toward Lucien, and that seemed to have everyone else snapping to attention.

  They made their way toward the house first, did a sweep through, and decided the whole damn place needed to be torn down and built from the ground up. The barn wasn’t much better, and although it wasn’t the grand size as the barn on the Grizzlies property where the underground fights were held, it was big enough for what Lucien had planned for it.

  “I want this to be the where my guys stay to keep an eye on the girls. One will always be in the house with them, but I want more than one on the property at all times.”

  “You plan on keeping your pussy here?” Stinger asked, because, well, he wanted to know what Lucien planned on doing with all that high-class pussy he sold to politicians and men on the police force.

  Lucien was smiling, but didn’t answer right away. They all went back outside and stopped at their bikes. Lucien turned and stared at Stinger. “As a matter of fact, yeah, that is exactly what I have plans for. And when these women are healed and aren’t afraid that if they decide to go back to Denver they will get their ass beat again by some cracked out fucker, they will know they have a place here.”

  That sounded all well and good, but nothing in this world was for free. Stinger stared at him, not about to point that out, because every one of these men knew that was the case.

  “I’m going to have my guys bring the supplies up in the next couple of days. The Brothers of Menace Nomads will be up by then. I’d like to get this shit started next week. That good with you guys?”

  “Yeah, but we got our own shit during the evenings with the fights.”

  Lucien nodded at Jagger’s words. “We won’t interfere with your obligations, and The Brothers are thankful as fuck for all the help the Grizzlies have thrown our way.” He held out his hand for Jagger, and they shook. “My men will be there any night you need them for those fights.”

  “Good, that’s good.” Jagger let go of Lucien’s hand, and The Brothers turned to head over to their bikes. They were going to the barn to participate in some of the underground fighting, and the violence and aggression were thick in the air.

  Stinger didn’t miss the way Malice looked over his shoulder and stared him down. Yeah, this wouldn’t be the last time there would be this tension between the two of them. Even though Stinger should back off and do his thing, he also knew that whatever was pulling him toward Molly wouldn’t be easily pushed to the side. Shit would go down, blood would be shed, and Stinger would have to decide if he would be the one fucking someone up, or if he’d allow himself to be beaten to the ground.

  ****

  Malice slammed his fist into the other fighter’s face and grinned when he fell back and grunted out in pain. The underground fight he was in put him in the barn that The Grizzly MC owned and where they conducted these little bare-knuckle spectaculars in. There were probably twenty or so guys watching in a semi-formed circle, their hands held high and money gripped tightly between their fingers. They yelled out for more punches, more blood, and to beat the shit out of the other fighter. When Lucien had brought this to the table Malice hadn’t been one hundred percent sure this was what was best for The Brothers, but after being in a man-to-man no rules fight, he realized it was perfect for the club. A lot of the members needed to burn off that extra fuel, and this was the perfect place to do it. Besides, The Brothers got a hefty payout for participating, and each fighter got his pockets lined.

  Malice threw a left hook and then a right undercut. The other guy fell back on his ass once more, and it was clear the fight was draining from him fast. They had been going at this for the past twenty minutes, but Malice felt even more juiced up then when they first started.

  “Get up motherfucker.” Malice bounced on the balls of his feet. Sweat dripped down his temples, and he tasted the metallic, tangy flavor of blood in his mouth.

  The other guy finally pulled his sorry ass off the ground, and turned his head to spit out a mouthful of blood. The floor was covered in grime, dirt, and dried rust colored blood as it was, a testament to the violence that happened behind these four walls. The crowd went wild, screamed for more, and Malice was more than willing to deliver on that. More sweat dripped off his bare chest. The barn was closed off to mute the sound and block off any unwelcome prying eyes. The other guy suddenly charged forward like he had gotten a second wind. Malice swung left, and then right, and dodged yet another failed right hook the man attempted to deliver. It was like something snapped inside of him, unleashed this other entity and had more strength pouring into him. This barn might mainly be used for shifter fights, but Malice was about to show these fuckers watching one hell of a show. The other fighter caught him in the jaw, and Malice stumbled back. His lip split, and blood dripped down his chin.