Bad Boy's Last Race

by Dallas Cole

  And then crawls to a stop as a squadron of policemen wave us off.

  Shit. I drop his hand and leap out of the car as soon as he parks. “What the hell’s going on?” Jagger asks, doing the same. “I live here. Let me past.”

  The cop in front of the barricade eyes him up and down. “If you say so, pal.”

  A gasp escapes me and I realize I’m trembling. I know what might await us on the other side of the barricade. Oh, god. Please let me be wrong.

  Jagger reaches for my hand, then leads me past the barricade. Drazic and Elena are standing out front of the garage bay of the shop. Elena’s screaming at another officer, this one in a suit. A detective? Federal agent? Surely they can’t be raiding the shop again. I thought they’d given up on trying to catch Drazic and Jagger there. I start scanning the faces of the federal agents.

  And then I spot him, standing in the bashed-in door that leads to Jagger’s upstairs apartment. Oh, god. I drop Jagger’s hand. Tyler’s smirking to himself beneath his shades, chewing his tobacco, watching as the agents carry boxes from Jagger’s apartment.

  Jagger charges forward.

  My throat burns. “Wait!” I cry. God, no. Please, Jagger, be safe, don’t make this worse—

  But Jagger’s already in Tyler’s face. There’s a deep purplish-green bruise on Tyler’s jaw, I notice. But it only adds to his gruesome sneer.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Jagger asks. “What are you doing to my home?”

  “Nice of you to finally show up, Jagger. I was afraid I was going to have to put out an APB for your arrest, so you’ve just saved me some paperwork.”

  “Paperwork? What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask.

  “What fucking arrest?” Jagger shouts.

  Tyler squishes the tobacco in his mouth, then spits to the side. Right in the middle of the garage’s floor. I can hear Elena’s shouts growing somewhere behind me. “Well, you’ve been a naughty boy, Mister Richards. Throwing cheap punches at bars is one thing, but this is above and beyond a little cockwagging, now, isn’t it? I knew you were mixed up in some nasty business . . . but I must admit, I’m quite appalled.”

  Jagger is still shouting at him, confused, but I know this moment all too well. I start sinking to the ground. What has Tyler done?

  “We found five kilos of cocaine taped to the underside of your mattress. Five. That can’t just be for personal use, son. You’re a distributor.” Tyler smiles, oozing with too-slick charm. “Now you and I are going to take a trip downtown so you can tell me all about it.”

  “The fuck are you talking about?” Jagger cries. He glances toward me. “Sophie, he’s fucking setting me up. I swear, I didn’t—I’ve never even touched the stuff, I wouldn’t—”

  But Tyler’s assistants wrestle him back and slap handcuffs on his wrists. Tyler watches, teeth bared, grinning all the while. I’m pinned to the spot. I want to stop them, but I know that nothing I can do will make this better. Anything I do will set Tyler off, make him even worse than he already is.

  Tyler turns toward to me with a shake of his head. “You think you know someone, Sophie, but you don’t really know them at all. Isn’t that right, Sophie?”

  “You’ll pay for this, Tyler,” I whisper.

  Tyler watches as they drag Jagger to the police car. “Nah,” he says. “I’m thinking Jagger will, instead.”

  16

  Jagger

  I’ve never spent the night in the county jail before, but it’s a far cry from the resort I shared with Sophie last night. Dim fluorescent lights buzz overhead, making the very idea of sleep impossible. Roaches crawl across the floor all night, darting back and forth at the edge of my vision. My cellmate, who I can only assume was pulled in on a DUI, spends the whole time moaning and puking into the metal toilet in the corner of our cell. I curl up on the metal shelf that’s supposed to serve as a bed and toss and turn the whole time, an arm slung over my eyes to try to block out the light.

  I’m furious with myself. I shouldn’t have let Tyler get under my skin at the bar the other night—I shouldn’t have even gotten close to losing my shit. It’s exactly what he wanted. He was dying for an excuse to escalate all this shit. And I fucking gave it to him. He’s set me up, and now everyone I love is going to pay the price.

  But more than anything, I’m scared for Sophie. Surely she knows me well enough to know I wouldn’t touch coke—or anything—if my life depended on it. But how can I prove that Tyler set me up? He’s the guy with the badge and the gun. I’m just a nobody from the trailer park who, in fairness, breaks some minor laws on the regular.

  I don’t do anything like this, though. I would never take part in something like this.

  The guards change shift; my cellmate finally stops throwing up and passes out on the floor. Every few hours, I check over to see if he’s still breathing. Finally, after what must be hours and hours, the jailor unlocks the cell door.

  “Jagger Richards.”

  I stand up, my knees weak underneath me with sleep deprivation. “That’s me.”

  “You’re wanted for your bond hearing.” He holds out the handcuffs.

  Oh, thank god. I’ve got a couple grand stashed away that I can post for bail money if I have to. I have no intention of skipping town, after all—I’m going to be right here, doing everything I can to bring Tyler down. I follow him past the central processing desk where they checked me in to a dingy little courtroom. The judge, a frazzled older Hispanic woman, takes one look at me over the edge of her glasses, and sighs.

  “Jagger Andrew Richards?” she asks, like she’s calling out someone’s order at the diner.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I glance toward the back of the room. There are rows and rows of chairs behind me, nearly empty, but then I spot the crew waiting for me in the back. Drazic, Elena, Lennox, Nash, and Cyrus—every last one of them turned up. I exhale slowly.

  But then I spot Sophie, sitting away from them. She’s sitting stiff, her eyes puffy and red and her face tight as a screw. Then I see why. She’s sitting right next to Tyler.

  “You’re charged with the crime of possession of illegal narcotics, and charged with the crime of possession with the intent to distribute.” She glowers down at the sheet in front of me. “Both felonies.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, gathering strength. “I swear, I didn’t do it. I was set up—”

  “Save it for the hearing, Mister Richards.” She folds her arms across her chest. “Based on your employment history and credit rating, I’m rating you as a moderate to high flight risk.”

  “No way. I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to fight this,” I say. “Please.”

  She shakes her head. “Be that as it may . . . I’m going to set your bail bond at one hundred thousand dollars.”

  The air rushes out of me. No. There’s no way I can possibly come up with that. “Please—you don’t have to worry about me running, ma’am—I don’t have much money, but I’ll do anything to fight this—”

  She slams her gavel on the counter. “Hearing adjourned.”

  I swear under my breath. Not if I called in every last IOU I’ve got could I come up with that kind of cash. She’s got to be fucking kidding me. The jailor yanks me by the chain connected to my handcuffs and steers me from the hearing room. I catch sight of Sophie and try to meet her gaze.

  “Sophie,” I call. “Please, you have to believe me.”

  She’s shaking, tears in her eyes. Won’t meet my eyes. What the fuck? She can’t possibly buy this shit. But then Tyler reaches over and grips her shoulder. Protective. Arrogant. I cringe at the sight of it.

  And then I’m being led back to the cell.

  Rage burns through me. There has to be some way to prove Tyler set me up. If I take a drug test, maybe, or—or something, there has to be some way he broke in to my apartment and set me up.

  We’re almost back to the cells when another bailiff approaches us. “Is that Richards?” he asks the jailor. “Come on, your bail�
�s been posted.”

  Relief washes over me, but it’s quickly followed by shock. It’s way too much. Drazic must have offered up the deed to the Muscleworks shop as collateral. Oh, my god. I can’t let him risk the entire shop over me.

  The jailor uncuffs me and leads me back to the jail’s entrance, where Drazic and the rest of the crew wait. But Sophie’s there, too, and she rushes toward me.

  “Baby.” I reach for her. “Please, you have to believe me.” I glance over her shoulder, but Tyler’s at the doors, arms crossed, sneering at me.

  Sophie looks down and shakes her head. Right before she lowers her eyes, I see something flashing there—something white and hot. “No, Jagger. I can’t. Listen . . . I think we need . . . to take a step back.”

  I reel as if she’s struck me. Anger burns deep inside of me, carving a furious path. Oh, no. No, she doesn’t get to pull this shit. Not when her shithead ex-boyfriend is the whole reason I’m in this mess.

  “I’m sorry, Jagger.” She chokes on the words. “I thought I knew you, but . . . but I can’t believe you’d keep something like this from me.”

  “This is bullshit, and you know it,” I growl. Why the fuck is she saying this garbage? The Sophie I knew—I thought I knew—would never fucking buy Tyler’s shit like this. How the fuck can she not see it’s all a lie? “Come on, Sophie,” I plead. “Use your fucking head—”

  “I just can’t trust you.” She chokes back a sob. Then her eyes dart back up to mine before she squeezes them shut. “We’re over.”

  I clench my fist, but relax it just as quickly. I’m furious, but more at Tyler than her. He’s got some kind of crazy hold over her—that must be it. “Come the fuck on. You really think I did that? It’s him, that fucking psycho.” I glare at him over her shoulder. “You should know me better than that.”

  “Just stop. You’re only making this harder on yourself.” Sophie shakes her head, then reaches up and unclasps the turquoise necklace she’s wearing. “Oh. And take your necklace back, too.” She shudders. “I don’t want it touching me.”

  I frown, totally bewildered. Some of the anger leaves me as confusion takes over. I never gave her that necklace. What the hell is she talking about?

  She presses it into my hand. And that’s when I feel the crumpled up piece of paper she presses there, too. Some sort of note.

  Oh. Oh.

  “That’s my girl.” Tyler stalks toward us, his muscles bristling. I slip the note into my back pocket before he can see. He slings his arm around her shoulder, and she lets him pull her toward his side, though she’s still trembling. “These bitches, man, I swear. They lose their heads sometimes.” He tilts her face toward him. “But she always comes around in the end. Knows what’s best for us.”

  “You’re a fucking loon,” I tell him.

  “Nah. I’m always on the right side of things.” He grins. “See you in court.”

  Drazic and the rest of the crew closes in around me. “You’re damn right you will,” Drazic says, then clasps me by the forearm. “Come on, brother. Let’s get you home.”

  I sink into the passenger’s seat of Drazic’s car. The others brought their own cars, and I’m actually thankful for the quiet moment alone with Drazic. He’s about the closest thing to a father I have.

  But fathers like to scold, and I know he’s gearing up for an epic bitch-out. “Don’t even say it,” I warn him.

  Drazic raises an eyebrow.

  “Don’t say ‘I told you so.’ About Sophie, or about antagonizing that fucking douche.”

  Drazic sighs. “I’m not gonna say a thing. I think you’ve been through enough.”

  “You didn’t have to do that, you know.” I reach into my pocket for the note Sophie slipped me. “Post my bail.”

  “Call it hedging my bets.” He drums his fingers on the steering wheel as he turns onto the highway. “If I can’t help you beat this thing, then I don’t deserve to keep the damn shop, anyway.”

  I unfold the note. It’s written on the back of a receipt—a receipt from one of the gas stations Sophie and I stopped at on our way out of town. I flip it over to find a hastily scrawled warning.

  Play along—PLEASE. I can help you, but only if I gain Tyler’s trust.

  I’m so sorry.

  I love you.

  I close my eyes and draw a ragged breath. I love her, too. I’m overwhelmed with how much I love her. But also how terrified I am. I don’t want her hurting herself, putting herself in danger trying to stop Tyler.

  But if I know one thing about that girl, it’s that she’s a fighter. She is stubborn as hell. If anyone can get me the evidence I need to clear my name, it’s my Sophie.

  “What’s the note?” Drazic asks.

  I fold it back up. “Sophie. She’s going to try to get evidence to help us, but the only way she can keep us safe is by playing along with that monster.”

  Drazic grimaces. “Don’t you think she’s done enough? I’m not sure we can survive any more of her ‘help.’”

  “Come on, man.” I groan. “The girl’s been through some real shit. But here she is, willing to risk herself all over again to help me. Don’t you think the least we can do is give her some support?”

  Drazic’s mouth is pressed in a thin line as he turns off the highway. “I don’t know, Jagger. You’ve already seen what he’s capable of. Now imagine if she gets caught trying to help you out.”

  “But she might be our only chance at beating this,” I say.

  Drazic is quiet for a moment, focusing on driving. Then he slows the car to a stop at a light. “You love her, don’t you?” He shakes his head with a feeble laugh. “You really, truly love her. Goddamn, man.”

  I grimace. “I’m afraid I do..”

  “Look at you. My wild boy Jagger, all grown the fuck up.” He pats my knee. “All right, man. If she’s family to you, then she’s family to me, too.” He starts the car back up. “Let’s fight.”

  17

  Sophie

  Tyler turns down Maple Row toward the extended stay hotel where’s been living for the past few weeks, supposedly on assignment for the DEA to uncover the crew’s drug ring. It’s only a mile away from Darla’s house, which makes me all sorts of uneasy. A cold sweat creeps over me as I realize just how close he was to me all this time.

  I know Tyler too well. He must have been peeking into my windows when he knew I couldn’t see; maybe he watched me come and go from the youth center. It makes me want to vomit, just imagining it, but I’m not even surprised. I never got free of him for even a moment. It was just an illusion, all this time.

  Tyler grins and reaches over to pat my thigh. His touch is cold as ice, sending frost straight to my heart. “You’ve made the right choice, sweetheart.” He turns off the engine. “And I’m gonna prove it to you.”

  I offer a feeble smile in return and try not to cringe away.

  “I know I’ve . . . lost my temper . . . in the past.” He glances down. “But I’m gonna treat you right now, baby. You’ll see.”

  He climbs out of the truck. I take a deep breath, then exhale, letting all my anxiety out. All I can think of is the expression on Jagger’s face at the bond hearing a few days ago. He was so scared, so broken down—but also so full of rage. Even if he read my note, he might still be furious at me, just for bringing Tyler into his life, whether I wanted to or not.

  And then there was the expression on Darla’s face when Tyler and I came to get my stuff from her garage apartment. She shook her head and called me the ripest buffoon she ever saw. As if I had any kind of choice in the matter. But it would be too dangerous to tell her the truth. I need Tyler to believe that I really have changed my mind, that I’m willing to give him another chance.

  It’s the only shot I have to help Jagger.

  Tyler opens my car door and helps me down from the truck. Oh, yes, he’s such a fucking gentleman when he wants to be. I grip his clammy hand, ice threading straight toward my heart. He steers me toward the staircase and
guides me up to the second floor with his hand pressed toward the small of my back. Possessive. Territorial. It makes me scared all over again.

  He opens the door to the suite. I square my jaw to steady myself. “It isn’t much, but it’ll have to do until this case wraps up and we can head home.”

  The suite looks perfectly fine to me, if a little cold. No, make that a lot cold. I spot Tyler’s mark all over the place. Most notably in the security cam he’s set up in one corner of the kitchenette, angled toward the back of the couch in the living space. I shiver at the sight of it. He’s used them before to track my comings and goings—just another way to control me. I’ll have to find a way to avoid the camera’s gaze if I want to get anything meaningful done here.

  “It’s so great having you back where you belong,” Tyler murmurs, after he sets my suitcase down in the bedroom. He steps toward me with a dark grin and reaches for me, running his hands along my sides . . .

  I seize up. I can’t go through with this. Oh, god. I wriggle out of his grasp, but it still feels like spiders are crawling all over my skin.

  “C’mon, Sophie.” He says it softly, but I hear the edge lurking beneath it.

  “I just . . .” I swallow hard, my mouth totally dry. Tyler always gets what he wants from me. But not now. I can’t. I can’t even stomach the thought. His touch feels like poison. “I need some time to . . . to adjust to all of this.”

  Tyler’s upper lip curls back as he looks at me like I’m some piece of garbage in his otherwise flawless life. His fists clench at his sides. I’m cringing, bracing myself for the fight to come. But finally, he relaxes, and nods. “Yes. Of course you do. It takes time—I get that, babe.” He smiles again, and gestures toward the couch in the living area. “See? I can be understanding. I know how it is.”

  My stomach churns. He doesn’t understand a goddamn thing. And in no time, he’ll be right back to his old tricks.