Jigsaw (Hell's Handlers MC Book 3)

by Lilly Atlas

  “Others are gone,” Copper said with a smirk.

  Gone. Probably dead. Copper didn’t have much tolerance for mistreatment of women. Kidnapping teenage girls and selling them off as sex slaves pretty much topped the list as far as mistreatment went. It would come as no surprise to anyone in the club that Copper had them eliminated.

  But why one still remained…

  “So what’s with Cyclops here?” Jig asked. Their prisoner was a big guy, not quite as big as Copper, but larger than Jig. And one of his eyes was so swollen it looked like a bubble blown from some chewing gum.

  “He’s yours,” Copper said, holding out a gun.

  Jig swung his gaze in his president’s direction. He wasn’t usually called in for this type of shit. Zach was enforcer, and Copper liked to have a hand in everything that went down.

  “Why me?” Jig took the pistol, hefting its weight in his hand. It felt good, too good.

  “Cyclops here is one of the guys who busted out your woman’s windows,” Copper said, smacking the guy on the back of his head. He’d been through the ringer if the bruising on his torso was any indication, and his head flopped forward with the force of Copper’s whack.

  Jig rolled his shoulders as tension crawled through his body. Sure, that earned the guy a beat-down, but death was a bit extreme. There was more to the story. Jig looked to Copper.

  “He was also in charge of the girls at the barn. Worked directly with Lefty on snatching the girls and choosing who they’d be handed over to.”

  That’d do it. Jig would gladly feed this guy lead for his last meal.

  “And he was one of the guys who held Izzy down and helped beat her.” When Copper dropped the last bomb, Jig’s entire body locked up. The rage started low in his gut and spread like wildfire through his veins.

  He’d been ready and willing to kill this asshole for the traumatized girls, but now it was personal. He’d had his hands on Jig’s woman. Hurt her, took away her control. And while Izzy clearly didn’t need him to fight her battles for her, he was all over this one.

  For a moment, he stared down at the gun in his hand. Others wouldn’t understand it. The ability to kill another human being, to end a life. Maybe it only came to a person after they knew the horror of having their life ripped away in the most ferocious of ways. Maybe then, someone could understand the deep-seated need to protect others and keep scum like this from ever hurting someone again.

  Because he would. If Copper were to let him go, he wouldn’t stop. He’d seek his own revenge and continue destroying the lives of innocent girls.

  Jig lifted the gun and aimed it at his target.

  The guy’s one functional eye widened. “Wh-what are you doing? I t-told you everything.”

  Jig laughed. “So the fuck what?” Men like this didn’t care who they hurt. Didn’t think twice about ruining women and children. Just like the men who’d murdered his family, this bastard would continue to destroy lives as long as he lived.

  Jig killed, but it wasn’t the same. This was an execution. Justice.

  The law might not agree. Hell, most of society might not agree, but as Jig tucked his finger securely against the trigger, he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt, shame, or hesitation. He used violence when necessary and had a woman who didn’t judge him for it. It was time to embrace who he was and escape the shadow of the past still looming over him.

  “N-no, d-don’t!” Their captive struggled against the bindings. “I won’t go back to Lefty! Please, you can’t do this to me.”

  The pleas for his life didn’t so much as blip on Jig’s guilt-meter. He relaxed his arm, took a breath, and fired on the exhale. The bullet flew through the air and embedded itself in Cyclops’s gut one second later. The man screamed and doubled over as best he could while being tied up. He freaked out, begging and pleading for someone to save him.

  He wouldn’t find any angels in here.

  Copper turned a surprised look on Jig.

  “Head would have been too fucking fast,” Jig said.

  Scratching his beard, Copper nodded. Then all four Handlers folded their arms across their chests, leaned against the walls of The Box, and watched the life drain from a piece of scum.

  When it was over, Jig took a deep breath. He’d sleep like a fucking baby knowing girls were safer in his part of the world tonight.

  And tomorrow? Well, tomorrow he’d work on getting his woman back.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  IZZY INHALED, LETTING the pungent odor of sweat, triumph, and adrenaline flood her system.

  God, she’d needed this.

  The only thing that would make the night better was if she was actually fighting. But her instinct had been right on, just attending the underground fight was already quieting the demons that had been attacking her soul the past two weeks.

  That’s right, two weeks.

  Two weeks since she pushed Jig away.

  Two weeks since she’d admitted to herself she was in love with him.

  Two weeks of bone deep loneliness she’d never experienced before.

  And two weeks of ignoring daily calls, texts, even a few door-knocks from Jig, his brothers, and the girls.

  Why?

  Who the fuck even knew anymore?

  She was turning out to be a shitty friend and an even shitter solo companion. Izzy was so sick of herself and her moping she’d called and begged the man who ran the fights to find an opponent willing to go against her. Unfortunately, there weren’t any women up for a match that night. She’d even offered to fight a dude. Mac flat-out refused.

  Pussy.

  As she wove her way through the rowdy crowd, Izzy couldn’t help but wish Jig was with her. It’d been that way the last fourteen days, and she’d come to the surprising conclusion she was nothing more than a coward when it came to love.

  A coward was the last thing she’d ever considered herself.

  But the cold, hard evidence was right in front of her face. She’d shoved him away and run like a scared little mouse, terrified of the prospect of admitting out loud she loved him, only to have him reject her. Or worse yet, getting back together only to end up alone again five years from now.

  As though her current heartbreak was somehow better than the other options. She didn’t think it was actually possible to feel worse than she had over the past two weeks.

  “Ugh,” she mumbled. These thoughts needed to jump out of her head. The obsessive thinking was why she’d driven almost two hours away to watch fights she wasn’t even invested in.

  As she drew closer to the ring, someone slammed her from behind. “What the fuck?” she said, spinning around in time to catch a glimpse of the jerk who’d jarred her walking away. Dressed in boxing shorts and no top, he was clearly fighting tonight.

  Her breath stilled in her lungs. She might not have a full-on view, but she’d recognize that cocky attitude and smug face anywhere.

  He was the piece of shit who delivered the message to her at Zach’s gym. The message that had left her bruised and out of commission for a week. A smile curled her lips. This guy was fighting tonight, all right. He just had no idea who his opponent was going to be.

  Shoving her way back through the crowd, Izzy rose on her tip toes and searched for the man who ran the whole damn show. Mac, a smarmy dude who loved the power these events bestowed on him.

  “Hey, Mac,” she said when she reached him.

  He was in a crowd with his bookie, collecting money and bets out the wazoo.

  “Izzy,” he said with a roll of his eyes. Dressed in an expensive, custom-tailored suit, he stood out among the rough and unruly crowd. “I told you about ten times I don’t have another bitch for you to fight tonight. Move along.” He waved his hands as though shooing a child before turning away from her.

  She clenched her teeth and swallowed the urge to punch him in the face for both the dismissal and calling her a bitch. “I don’t want to fight a bitch,” she managed to grind out. “I want to fight that lean g
uy with the muddy hair, neon blue shorts, and dragon tat on his back.”

  “Slick?” Mac asked with a laugh. “You bitches are all crazy. Told you, you weren’t fighting any men, bitch.” He tried to turn away, but Izzy grabbed his arm.

  “I can beat him. Swear on my fucking life. You can keep my winnings. I don’t want the money.” She just wanted to show that fucker he wasn’t man enough to take her down without his two goons holding her back.

  “Stop wasting my time, Izzy. Ain’t gonna happen.”

  Her mind raced. What could she offer him to change his mind? “You can keep any of my future winnings, too.” None of this had ever been about the money for her. It was her therapy.

  “What’s it going to take to get you to leave me alone? We don’t get many bitches wanting to fight. You’re once a year winnings won’t be worth it.” The men he’d been powwowing with started to take notice of her, snickering like she was a little girl who had no business at the grown-ups table.

  The chance was slipping away, and Izzy had no idea how to sway this asshole in her direction. “Okay,” she said. “What would it take?”

  A greasy grin made him look like the perfect image from the sexual predator database. “Hmm…” He reached out and stroked a finger from her elbow to her shoulder. “I’m sure we can think of something.”

  Revulsion rolled through her. She’d rather fuck a skunk than let this guy anywhere near the goods. Only thing that kept her from snapping his finger in two was the crowd of onlookers who wouldn’t take kindly to her breaking their boss.

  “Got a bunch of guys here with me tonight. Each and every one will put money down on her. She’ll be the underdog. Anyone who bets on her will make a killing. We’ll hand over every cent we win if you give her the fight,” said a voice she’d know anywhere from behind her.

  Jig.

  Izzy couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. He was here. Supporting her, at her back. He’d been trying to contact her for two weeks. Despite her fears, despite how hard she pushed him away, he hadn’t given up.

  Hadn’t abandoned her.

  He was there. Warmth spread through her and, for a second, she almost abandoned the whole plan in favor of throwing herself into Jig’s arms. But she needed to see this through. Needed to show the world no one fucked with her and got away with it anymore. And if they tried, she and her sexy biker would be coming for them.

  Mac peered over her shoulder at Jig. “You Handlers ain’t gonna come after me if she loses, right?”

  “She won’t lose,” Jig said, his voice full of complete confidence and faith in her. “Put your hand on her again, and you’ll be going to the ER with your dick in a bag full of ice.”

  Mac’s eyes narrowed, but he wasn’t stupid enough to cross the Handlers. “Fine,” he finally relented. “But you gotta pay the guy Slick was supposed to fight. I ain’t losing a fucking penny over this.”

  “That’s fine,” Izzy said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Yes! She’d been dreaming of getting revenge on that guy for weeks. Never thought she’d get the chance, but here she was.

  “You got about half an hour. This fight is almost done, and there’s one more before you.” He looked at Jig. “Every one of your guys here better bet on her.” His gaze shifted to her. “And you better fuckin’ win.”

  “Okay, great. One more thing,” she said.

  “Jesus, what now?” Mac was quickly losing his patience with her.

  “Don’t tell him about the change.”

  “No, that’s not happening.” He peered over Izzy’s shoulder again and paled. Whatever expression Jig wore must have been pretty damn scary. Mac sighed. “You really got a hard-on for this guy, huh?”

  Well, she wouldn’t describe it quite that way, but… She nodded.

  “Okay. We’re done here. Get the fuck out of my face.”

  God, she couldn’t wait to see the look on the asshole’s face when he realized who his opponent was. It’d be a moment she’d cherish forever.

  She chuckled to herself. Maybe she needed some real therapy.

  After Mac and his posse walked away, Izzy turned and faced the man she’d missed more than a starving woman would miss food. “Jig,” she said, voice breathless just at the sight of him. He looked so damn good. Black jeans, dark gray tee, Handlers cut. The scar growing out of his beard giving him that badass vibe he wore so well. Just one look, and she was almost ready to forgo the fight in favor of a quick fuck in the car.

  He gave her a half smile that had her knees softening and her pussy clenching.

  Damn him.

  “Who is he? Saw him slam into you, but I’m guessing it’s more than that.” He didn’t move toward her, and her heart sank a little. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected. Maybe that he’d grab her, kiss her, throw her over his shoulder cave-man style and ravage her in the parking lot.

  Not this polite, slightly cold reunion.

  “Lefty’s guy who beat me up. The one who needed two other men to hold me down while he did it. Tonight, he’s going to find out how lucky he was to have those guys.” Already, the thrill of an impending fight zinged through her veins.

  She kept note of Jig’s reaction to the news. Darkening eyes, clenched fists, tight jaw. But he didn’t say anything. Didn’t try to talk her out of it. Didn’t jump in and tell her he’d take care of Slick himself.

  “You’re okay with this? With me fighting him?” Never would she have asked another man that question, but it mattered. Jig mattered, and what he thought of her choices was important.

  He let out a gruff laugh. “That little twig? Bet you snap him by the end of the first round.”

  “You wish it was you getting to hand him his ass?”

  With a shrug, he smirked. “Can’t say I’d turn down the opportunity to shove his balls up his ass, but you’ve earned this, baby.”

  Baby. Was there still a chance…?

  Joy surged in Izzy’s heart. He was curbing his own alpha protectiveness in favor of allowing her to be her independent self and run her life. But he had her back. No, he stood at her side. Not once had he or his family of brothers abandoned her. They kept showing up, even when she’d tried to push them away. They showed her she could rely on others. She could have a family that wouldn’t desert her and would protect her heart.

  Jig took a long step closer. She had the feeling of being caught in a trap, about to be devoured by a hungry predator. “Two weeks,” he said when he was so close his breath tickled her ear.

  She shivered, and her eyes fluttered close. She wanted his lips on her, his hands, anything to renew the connection and ease the ache being without him caused.

  “I know,” she whispered. “I—I was just—”

  “Freaking the fuck out and running like the coward you are not?” One hand wrapped around the back of her neck, squeezing until she opened her eyes and met his gaze.

  “Yes.” She swallowed. “Exactly.” She’d spent her entire adult life fleeing from relationships, just as her mother had. Sure, she had never let it get to marriage and never had thrown away relationships after they started, but she was just as bad because she never allowed them to begin in the first place. She protected her heart to her own detriment. Just as her mother had.

  The realization was jarring, and thankfully she had a man to help her realize the self-destructive tendency before she completely destroyed any chance at happiness and love.

  “You done with that shit?” His mouth hovered just above hers, and she nearly wept with the need to feel it against hers.

  “Yes.”

  “You ready to be my woman? My ol’ lady? You and me. Nothing coming between us.” As he spoke, his beard tickled her chin.

  “Yes.”

  “You ready for me to tell you I love you?”

  Oh, my God. Oh, my God. He loved her? “Y-yes.” She trembled in his embrace. Those were words she’d never expected to hear from a man. Tears filled her eyes and emotion clogged her throat until she couldn’t swallow. Her hea
rt was full in a way she’d never imagined possible.

  “Good,” he said, his eyes growing lust-filled. “You ready to beat this fucker’s ass so I can drag you back to that locker room and eat your pussy ’till you’re screaming?”

  Fuck yes! “Yes!” This time she couldn’t keep the elated grin off her face.

  Jig kissed her hard, thoroughly, until her knees jellied and need curled her belly tight. “Then let’s do this because I’ve gone two weeks without watching you come, and I’m at my fucking limit.”

  “You coming in the ring with me?”

  “I’d like to see you try to keep me out.”

  Izzy smiled. This just might be the best night of her life, and she hadn’t even dished out the payback yet.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  JIG RUBBED HIS woman’s shoulders as she waited to be called into the ring. Her hood was up, game face on, and she bounced like there were springs in her heels. “Chill, babe. You could take his guy out with one of those sexy black dresses you own and five-inch heels.”

  Izzy laughed, and the shoulders under his hands softened. “Cute, Jig. Very cute.”

  The emcee climbed into the center of the ring and announced the fight, calling Slick into the ring first. He bopped around, looking all smug and conceited. Jig couldn’t keep the smirk off his face.

  Sure, he fucking hated the idea of Izzy getting in the ring with this guy. But it was necessary to her. And she could take him. There was a chance she’d get banged up, and it would tear at Jig’s insides, but he was man enough to deal.

  “In the next corner, we have Izzy The Empress.”

  Jig gave Izzy’s shoulders one final squeeze, slapped her ass, and kissed her hard before sending her off.

  Half the crowd fell silent, looks of confusion crossing their face. Not Jig’s brothers. They went fucking wild, screaming, stomping their boots and chanting “Jig’s ol’ lady.”

  He chuckled. She’d hate the fuck outta that.

  Even the women had come, dying to see her after weeks of radio silence, and their wild, high-pitched cries were the loudest of all.