by Dallas Cole
“You know damned well that isn’t how it works,” Drazic says.
I clench my jaw, unable to admit that he’s right.
“He isn’t going to stop. He’ll keep finding some new way to come at us until something does stick. And you know it. It’s not Sophie’s fault,” Drazic admits, “but you can’t tell me that this isn’t because of her.”
“I guess,” I mutter.
“If you stop seeing her, then Tyler will lose interest. All of this will end. And we won’t have to be under the goddamned microscope anymore. Am I right?”
“You’re not fucking helping,” I snarl. “We’re supposed to just roll over and let him do what he wants? Hurt Sophie? She doesn’t deserve that shit. She deserves to be protected.”
Drazic exhales loudly. “But Jagger, she isn’t one of our own.”
I grit my teeth. “Well, maybe she fucking should be.”
Drazic folds his arms and looks at me sideways. I’ve crossed a line, and I know it. Elena’s one of our own because she’s been part of the crew since day one. But even she’s crossed lines with Drazic before, and it’s never worked out well for her. I don’t have the same blood ties saving my ass.
“I can’t just abandon her,” I say finally, softer now. “Sophie needs me right now. She needs to know she’s safe.”
Drazic gives me a knowing look. “Now there’s something new. You, keeping a girl safe.” He manages a sad smile. “She must be something really special to you. This is the first time I’ve ever seen you even consider putting someone before the crew.”
“Not—not before the crew.” I grimace. “But she deserves to be cared for, as well. She isn’t just anyone.” And that, I realize, is the fucking problem. I’m crazy for her. And it’s making me crazy, period.
Drazic grips me by the forearm. “It’s okay to feel something for her. Might do you some good.”
I want to smile, but I’m not feeling it right now. I hate that we have this fucking psycho hanging over us. Poisoning what should be a good thing.
“Okay, Jags. I’m not going to warn you off of her. Not yet. But we need to figure out what this douchebag’s up to.”
“Not yet,” I echo. It doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence.
Drazic nods, his lips pursed. “I tell you what. Let’s grab some drinks tonight. I’ll get Elena to DD for us. I think the whole crew could stand to blow off some steam.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Sure.”
Drazic releases his grip on me and nods. “But I want you to think about what I said, Jagger. Everything has consequences.” His features darken. “I don’t want you to feel blindsided if some hard decisions have to be made.”
Fucking great. I scrub my hands through my hair and look up at the flickering fluorescent lights. I can’t abandon Sophie. Protecting her is the right thing to do.
But I can’t lose my crew.
Nash gulps down the last swig of his beer and slams the empty bottle onto the counter. We’re getting quite the collection of empties—too quick for the bartender to keep up with us. I’m going to have a bitching hangover tomorrow, but I don’t give a fuck right now, and I’m caring even less by the minute. It’s nice to forget, even if for just a minute, about everything waiting for me beyond the Crow Bar’s walls.
“So I’m lapping this fucker, easily,” Nash says, picking his story back up as best he can. “I mean, he’s just some jackoff tourist on the desert raceway, not like he really thought he could keep up with me. Right?”
I exchange a roll of the eyes with Lennox, but we elbow Nash to go on. Like we haven’t heard this fucking story a billion times before.
“So I buzz right past this douchebag. Grab and yank on the emergency brake. Tires screaming all around me, smoke filling the track. My car flips around crazy fast, and suddenly I’m nose to nose with the fucker. Right? He’s slamming on his brakes, trying not to collide with me. But he’s too late. I’ve tossed the dam thing into reverse and now I’m going around the track with him, nose to nose.”
The girls listening to his story cackle with laughter.
“So we make the last lap that way—my last lap, his next to last—with me going in reverse the whole fucking time. And then when we’re almost to the finish line, I do it again, whipping myself back around the right direction, and cross the finish line ahead of him. Still winning with time to spare.”
Lennox and I fake-clap for Nash as he takes a bow. One of the girls, well-manicured and about ninety percent teeth, sinks her claws into Nash’s shoulder. “Nicely done!”
“Yeah, fucking bravo, never heard that one before,” I tell Nash. “I think you owe us all a free round of shots just for listening to that.”
“Because you’ve all been so gracious, maybe I will.” Nash waves the bartender down.
One of the other girls links her arm through mine. I tense and try to pull free of her, but she holds fast. “What about you, Jagger? I’m sure you’ve got plenty of wild stories to share.”
I give Lennox and Drazic a look—a please get this off of me look—but all he manages to do is choke himself on his beer while laughing at me. My fucking friends, seriously.
“Nah, I’m not nearly as special as Nash. Or, um . . . available.”
She loosens her grip, just by a fraction, and I take the opportunity to yank my hand free. I grab two shots before she can latch onto me again and pass the other toward her.
“Now, Jagger, I thought you were Mr. Bigshot, can’t let a woman hold you down,” she says. Aimee? I think her name’s Aimee. Did I sleep with her once? She looks vaguely familiar, in that super-predictable tanned and bottle-blonde way. “I’m sure you can fool around still.”
Someone claps me on the back and yanks the shot out of my hand. “Oh, honey,” the man says, “this one’s off the market, no matter what silver-tongued lies he tries to tell you. Isn’t that right, Jagger? No sense getting this nice lady’s hopes up. Unless, of course, you’re trying to do something dishonorable tonight . . .”
I cringe. I’d know that slippery, oily tone anywhere. Fucking Tyler Brennan.
“No, Tyler.” I ladle my own voice with something sickly sweet. “I’m here strictly with friends. It is possible to have fun without harassing women, you know.”
Tyler downs the shot as Nash returns to our circle. Nash’s shot glass slips out of his hand, spilling all over our feet. “No, Jagger, I’m afraid I’m not too certain I get what you’re trying to imply.”
“What I’m saying is that I treat Sophie right. Whether she’s with me or not.” I clench my jaw. “Unlike some people.”
Tyler lurches in front of my face, teeth bared, eyes narrowed. He is red-faced and furious, but my attention catches on something tucked under his armpit. His side-holstered gun. I shrink back as people ooh around us, itching for a fight. I only just barely move, but it’s enough that he knows I’ve seen it. That he knows he has the upper hand.
He always does and always will. Him and his fucking carte blanche badge.
I clench a fist at my side. My thoughts aren’t moving fast enough tonight. Too many fucking drinks. But even I know there’s no use giving in to his taunts. He just wants to get a goddamned rise out of me—he’s looking for an excuse. I won’t give him the fucking satisfaction.
Finally, he eases back, his laughter gusting over me, hot and sour with tobacco. Lennox and Nash tense around me, but even they know better than to make a move. “You’re a dead man, Jagger.” He grins. “You just don’t know it yet.”
“Is that so?”
Tyler snatches a fistful of my collar and pulls my face straight toward his. “You don’t know when, or how, but it’s coming. The best thing you can do, little boy, is run far, far away from me.”
My face is burning up as he breathes on me. All I can see are his dark, furious eyes.
“Sophie deserves better than you. She deserves me. And nothing and no one can stand in my way. Not even Sophie herself.”
I draw a shaky breath. “We’l
l see about that.”
“Is there something I can help you with?” Big Al, the bartender, asks. He looms over the bar, arms bared in his cutoff shirt, tattoos swirling all over his meaty arms. He’s got at least two heads on Tyler and everyone else in the bar, and with his bald pate, he’s closer to a biker version of Mr. Clean than a human being.
Even Tyler, wisely, shrinks back under Big Al’s stare. He releases his grip on my collar, glances from Al to me and the rest of our crew, then rubs his hands on the front of his shirt.
“No, sir,” Tyler says. “We were just having a friendly chat.” He offers me a cruel, false grin, and I know damned well our ‘chat’ isn’t finished.
Al snorts and gives Tyler a once over, his gaze flinty. “It better stay that way, if you don’t want to get tossed out of my fucking bar.”
Nash and Lennox flank me, their drinks and entourage forgotten. But Tyler isn’t done yet. He rolls his neck side to side with a sickening crack, then steps back toward the three of us.
“I just want you to understand one thing, Jagger.”
“I don’t think we need to understand anything,” Lennox says, crossing his arms.
Tyler eyes him up. “Lennox Solt, right? Oh, yes, the convict. I’d sure hate for your parole officer to catch wind of the kind of scumbags you run around with.”
Lennox holds Tyler’s gaze. “I got nothing to hide.”
Tyler smirks. “We’ll see about that.” He turns toward Nash. “And Nash Thompson, the too-clean pretty boy. We’ll see what kind of secrets you’re hiding in your criminal record.”
“You said one thing, Tyler.” I smile sweetly at him. “You got trouble with numbers?”
Tyler’s upper lip curls back and lunges into my face again. “Anything you do to Sophie,” he growls, “I did first. I did it better.”
My whole body pulls forward, taut, burning for a fight. The fight Tyler’s so desperately trying to provoke. Part of me is dying to give it to him.
“When she’s sucking your dick, she’s imagining mine. When she cries out at night, I promise you, it’s my name on my lips,” Tyler says.
I snort. “Trust me, boy, she doesn’t shout your name.”
Tyler’s mouth twitches, but he doesn’t ease back. “She may not know it, but she’s dancing on my strings.”
My blood is on fire, itching to sock him for daring to speak of Sophie that way. But it won’t do any good. I can’t. As much as he fucking deserves it—
“But hey.” Tyler claps me on the arm. “I appreciate you keeping her nice and warm for me. It’ll be even sweeter when I bend that juicy ass over my knee and spank her for thinking she could get away from me.” He laughs. “I’ll put her right back where she belongs, after she pays for leaving in the first place—”
I don’t think. I just act. My fist flies out and clocks Tyler square across the jaw.
He staggers back, momentarily stunned. I think we’re both shocked. Nash and Lennox start shouting; Lennox wrestles my arms back. But I’m suddenly perfectly calm. Whatever adrenaline had been itching in before me is all used up. Nothing has ever felt more right in my entire life.
Blood wells in Tyler’s mouth as he tries to speak. “Fuck you!” he shouts. “You’re a fucking dead man, you hear me? Dead!”
I smile back, calm as a clear blue sky.
“You’ll pay for that, you piece of trailer garbage.” His rage tips over, and then he goes lethal, sinister as well. “Assaulting a federal agent is a felony. And I’ve got all kinds of witnesses.”
Big Al clears his throat. “I didn’t see a damn thing,” he says. “How about the rest of you?”
“Not a thing,” Nash says. Lennox stays quiet, but I know he’d speak up if he felt safe to do so. Amber and the other girls shake their heads nervously, but no one comes to Tyler’s defense.
“You’d better scoot,” Big Al says. “I’d hate to have to call the police on a federal agent for causing disorder in my private establishment.”
Lennox loops his arm through mine to hold me up. Am I standing up? I’m not sure. My feet slip beneath me. “Come on, Jags. We need to bounce.”
“I’m fine, really—”
“Time to go,” Nash says, moving to stand between Tyler and me.
“We aren’t fucking done!” Tyler screams, as they lead me away. “You’re going to regret this, Jagger Reynolds.”
I feel amazing in the moment. But as we head out of the Crow Bar, I have a sinking feeling he’s all too right.
15
Sophie
Jagger picks me up Monday afternoon for our mystery trip. I’ve spent a long day toiling away at my thesis, and also realizing that I need a lot more books from the university library than I’d initially brought, but I don’t have time to worry about that just now. Every moment I wasn’t working, I was peeking through the blinds, scouting for suspicious cars or trucks lurking around. I’m so tired of feeling awkward around Darla and the kids, as well. I know Darla means well, suggesting I get a restraining order, but she doesn’t understand. There’s no fighting Tyler. Every time I’ve tried, it only made things worse for me in the end.
I just intend to enjoy my time with Jagger—that freeing, weightless feeling—for as long as I can until it’s gone.
A honk sounds from below, and I peek out the window again. Jagger’s Firebird, with the man himself leaning against the driver’s door. He looks all cleaned up, wearing fresh jeans and a snap-button short-sleeve shirt that shows off his lean muscles and tattoos. I grin to myself, double check my makeup, and hoist my bag over my shoulder.
“Hey, beautiful.” Jagger pulls me into his arms for a kiss, and he tastes so good, I can’t help but kiss him again.
I squeeze his hands with mine, then notice the swelling around his right knuckles. “Shit, sorry!” I turn his hand over in mine. “What the hell happened?”
Jagger laughs and slips his hand free. “Oh, just your usual slightly drunken stupidity. Don’t worry about it.” He presses a kiss to my temple, then walks around the car to open the passenger’s door for me.
Within minutes, we’re winding our way out of Ridgecrest and heading north along the high desert, cradled by the orange and purple mountain ridges on all sides. For the first time since I can remember, I feel safe, like it’s just me and Jagger alone in the world. I smile at him before turning to bask in the early spring sunlight streaming through the window.
“Let’s play a game,” Jagger says.
I laugh. “Oh? Are we counting license plates? I Spy?”
“Nah, something a little more personal.” He grins. “I wanna hear the best stupid thing you did as a kid that seemed like such a good idea at the time.”
“Oh, boy. There are just so many.” I rub my hands together. “Having an older sister, well—that gave me ample opportunity to be an asshole.”
“I can imagine,” Jagger says. “I only had stepsiblings myself. Or whatever you’d call them.” His smile starts to fade, but he brings it back in full force. “Come on. Pick the highlights.”
“Okay, let’s see. Well, there was the time I was so pissed that she got to go to the junior-senior prom, and I, a mere sophomore, wasn’t allowed to go.” I tilt my head back, remembering Darla’s horrified face. “So I put hair dye in her shampoo bottle.”
“Oh, no,” Jagger says.
“Oh, yes. All different colors, too. Purple, green, you name it. It was really faint because it didn’t have a chance to soak in, but she had this faint aura of bad tie-dye to her hair.”
He laughs. “Yikes. Remind me not to piss you off.”
“Ooh, and then there was the time I borrowed her favorite top and snuck out to go see a concert. I would’ve gotten away with it, too, if a mysterious burger stain hadn’t appeared on the top. Darla kept an exacting inventory of her clothing, you see, and when it turned up with that stain, and then smelling like smoke, she knew immediately what had happened and presented it to Mom as evidence of my treachery.”
“But you
all get along fine now?” Jagger asks. “Even after all that?”
“Well, I’m no angel, but she’s grown used to me. Like a tumor.” I grin and rub my hand on his thigh. “Okay, your turn.”
Jagger runs his tongue against his teeth. “Hmm, let’s see . . . Ahh, I know. But here, let me set the stage for you.”
I twist toward him, tucking my feet cross-legged beneath me.
“Thirteen-year old Jagger. Mom’s been seeing this other douchebag in our trailer park off and on, he’s a real scumbag, I don’t like the way he treats her, right?”
I wince, but nod.
“Well, I’m thirteen, but I’ve been driving illegally for a year already. Working in the park, I got good with electronics, and most of the cars around there are pieces of shit, real easy for me to hotwire. And this dickwad drives an F250, you know, real boner of a truck.”
“And you hotwire it?” I ask.
“Oh, yes, but I don’t stop there. It’s got a trailer hitch, you see, so I back the fucker right up to his trailer and start trying to haul it.”
I shriek and cover my mouth. “Oh, my god.”
“My goal was to drag it out of the park and halfway down the highway. Of course, I didn’t understand all the logistics of how that shit’s wired and bolted in to the trailer pad. I got maybe five feet, and it was making one horrific racket, metal screeching, tires burning, you get the idea. Woke up the whole fucking park. And the guy, who I didn’t realize was asleep inside the trailer at the time.”
I start to laugh again, but end up snorting. Real attractive, Sophie. It puts a grin on Jagger’s face, though, and he reaches over and caresses my thigh.
“Of course I had to figure out some way to put it back. Then I got the beating of my life from Mom, but that’s another story.” He shrugs and grins sheepishly. “Anyhow, I wasn’t long for that life.”
“No?” I ask.