by Eliza Marsh
Unfortunately, Jagger saw this same basic solution.
“I'm sure you guys can work something out. It's called FedEx. Hell, the guys could even bring some down during their runs if they had to. Problem solved.”
“What about Tyler?” This was the one thing she was having a tough time dealing with. Leaving Tyler at the end of the month was going to be a challenge. She could only hope that the guys would look after him for her. Jackie knew it was selfish in some ways for her to leave Tyler, especially without talking to him first.
“What about that idiot? He's a grown ass man. He can take care of himself.” That wasn't exactly the response she was hoping to get, as it did little to ease her concerns. Jagger narrowed his bright blue eyes at her across the table. “You're planning on leaving Lakeside anyways, so I know you've already thought about all of this shit. What's the real reason you don't want to go back?” He paused, then rolled his eyes and lowered his voice to a soft mumble as he leaned forward. “It's not the whole killing thing, is it? ‘Cause killing people doesn't automatically make you a horrible person.”
From his tone of voice, Jackie got the idea that he knew much more about the killing side of the club than he was letting on. It started to click in her head that the special bond she had seen between Dean and Jagger a few months ago was not just one of a longtime friendship.
She had yet to see any rage from the man in front of her. However, as she looked at him carefully, she began to notice little things about him. His hands clenched when someone walked too close to their booth. He surveyed the room every few minutes as though he were looking for any sign of danger. There was an undeniable tension in his body even as they sat waiting for their food to arrive. All were habits she had seen in her Macon biker on a daily basis.
All were habits of a dangerous man.
Jagger snapped his fingers in front of her face as she continued to zone out in her seat. “Hello? Anybody in there?” He raised an eyebrow as she seemed to come back to earth, utterly unaware that she'd been staring at him silently long enough to make him uncomfortable.
“That's part of it, yeah.” Jagger looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to explain further. “I don't know how much you heard, but the day I decided to leave, Dean beat the crap out of some guy in the middle of the garage parking lot over something stupid. And when he was done...” She lowered her voice, mindful of her surroundings. “He came over to me and yelled about how he killed people for a living. About how he enjoyed it. About how he could snap my neck without hesitation...”
Jagger sighed, internally debating how much he should say in regards to the illegal activities, but genuinely not wanting to see the woman in front of him suffer. “For starters, we never had this conversation, yeah?” She nodded quickly in agreement, hoping to get some sort of enlightenment on how her life had gotten so fucked up. “Good, now the thing you have to understand about guys like us is that... we sorta have two sides. There's the normal person, and then there's the guy who kills people. And sometimes, it's hard to keep them balanced and separated. If something comes in to throw off that balance, like a pretty chick, for example, it can make the lines get a little blurry, make us start to question ourselves.” Jackie watched him intently, overwhelmed by the direction the conversation had taken. “Look, I'm not excusing what he did, but it sounds to me like he was feeling a bit... overwhelmed. Like his sides were fighting against each other instead of working together like they're supposed to. It happens to the best of us.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, Jackie digesting the new information, and Jagger inwardly groaning about the can of worms he'd just opened up. How had he even gotten dragged into this bullshit? He was sitting almost nose to nose in some crappy vinyl booth in a crappy little restaurant in the middle of nowhere with a brokenhearted twenty-something talking about boys and feelings. Nash was a dead man next time they met.
“Can I ask you something?” Her voice was hesitant, not sure where the line would get crossed from helpful, friendly advice to the criminal club business.
Almost immediately regretting it, Jagger nodded his head but added a warning just for good measure. “Remember, nobody ever finds out about this little heart to heart. Now, ask quick before I change my mind.”
“Why do you do it?”
The question seemed innocent enough at first. Once surrounded by the context of the conversation, however, it took on a whole new definition.
“Why do I kill people?” He shrugged nonchalantly, but his quiet words were laced with meaning. “Because the club needs me to.” When he saw that his answer didn't clarify anything for her, he rolled his eyes and elaborated further. “It's not like I go around killing nuns and librarians just for shits and giggles. We kill people that pose a threat to the club, to our family. These guys are gangbangers and murderers and drug dealers. They've got blood on their hands too. Here, we're the only thing that keeps the crime out of Lakeside. We're the deterrent that keeps the town safe from the rest of the world. In Macon, it's a little different, but...” He could see his words weren't soaking in, so he changed directions. “You knew Dean way before the killer thing came out, right? You slept with him, you hung around the clubhouse, you let Tyler join in.”
“The first time I saw Dean, he was holding a knife to some guy's throat,” she said absently, recalling that night in great detail in her mind.
“Exactly. You knew he wasn't a saint, that the club was a dangerous thing to get mixed up in. But you got involved anyway. And after a while, you felt comfortable with them. Safe. Like nothing could touch you 'cause you had a group of bikers to watch your back.”
He had an excellent point with that one. Jackie had never felt more safe or secure than when she was with Dean or at the clubhouse surrounded by the Macon Kings. And of course, she had vaguely known about their criminal activities; had heard the stories and rumors regularly at the diner. In hindsight, Dean being a killer really shouldn't have surprised her as much as it had. But still...
“I can't just ignore what I know.”
“That's part of club life. You take the good and the bad, and you roll with it.”
Good and bad, right. And where did a baby fit in with that?
Before he could say anything else, the young waitress came over with arms full of food. Jagger wondered absentmindedly how someone as small as Jackie could eat so much and not look like a cow. Although, now that he was thinking about it, she had been gaining some weight since she arrived in Lakeside. Her face had become fuller, and her breasts were delightfully larger, in his opinion. Shaking his head to get rid of mental images that would certainly get him killed, he kept silent and began to eat. No way was he going to tell the woman she was starting to get fat. That was also likely to cost him his life.
They ate quietly for the most part, with small talk limited to topics such as how the food was, the weather, and the drive they still had ahead of them. Any further discussion on Macon and Dean was kept at bay as they enjoyed their meal. Jackie had devoured most of her bacon cheeseburger before Jagger was half-way through his. She began working on his fries after she had finished her own, earning a glare from the man.
“Are you hungry?” he asked sarcastically as he looked at his dwindling pile of fries. “You act like you haven't eaten in days.”
Jackie looked up at him innocently before dropping the fries in her hand back onto his plate. “Sorry, I'm just really craving french fries.”
Rolling his eyes, Jagger shoved the plate forward, giving her permission to finish them. She smiled gleefully but made sure to eat them slower than before.
“I spilled my guts to you. Now, you tell me the real reason you don't want to go back to Macon.” Jackie glared at him as she shoved the last of the fries in her mouth, attempting to brainstorm an answer he might believe. “I can see you trying to make something up. Don't you fucking lie to me.” He pointed his finger in her face for emphasis and stared her in the eyes. “C'mon, it can't be that bad. You're
probably overreacting about something stupid.”
“I'm pregnant.”
The words came out a bit easier in front of Jagger, whereas she'd had to force them from her lips to confirm Bianca's suspicions.
He stared blankly at her for a few seconds before a scowl appeared on his face. “What the fuck did you just say?” he asked loudly, his body tensing in preparation for the answer.
“I. Am. Pregnant.” Jackie spoke slowly in response to his less-than-friendly tone. She supposed it was about time that somebody freaked out at the news.
“You've been fucking around with someone in Lakeside? Who is it? I swear to God if it's Max, I'll kill that little shithead.”
Well, this wasn't exactly what she thought he was going to say. She rolled her eyes at his completely off-track brain. “I'm not sleeping with anybody, genius. It's Dean's baby.”
This made the biker stare blankly once again as he processed the information. Apparently, the idea hadn't crossed his mind. “Dean has a baby?”
“He will in five months, yeah.”
“That asshole never told me you were pregnant.” He pulled the phone out of his pocket, intent on calling his friend to complain about not being informed of this vitally important piece of news. However, before he could push any buttons, a small hand snatched the device from his grasp.
“Woah there, cowboy. He doesn't know. Nobody does. And I need you to promise not to go running your mouth to anyone.” Jackie placed the phone back on the table. This whole 'Surprise, I'm pregnant' conversation was getting a little easier every time she had it.
“Wait a sec, how does he not know?”
Rolling her eyes, she heaved a massive sigh and leveled him with a stare. “I'm gonna have to spell this out for you, aren't I?” Jackie spent the next few minutes going over the story that she had now told a total of three people. Jagger tried to interrupt every chance he got and blew up as soon as she was finished.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” he shouted, drawing the attention of the restaurant patrons. “You weren't thinking, that's what it was. Are you out of your damn mind? You can't just run away and pretend like nothing happened. He has the right to know he's got a kid.”
She shushed him as her eyes darted around the room, taking in the wary gazes of the other diners. “Would you keep it down? Jesus,” she exclaimed in a heated whisper. “I ran because I had just found out that my baby daddy killed people for a living. Besides, I saved him the trouble of kicking me out. Do you really think he wants a kid? Dean can barely take care of himself, much less an actual family.”
“That's cause he's never had to. Doesn't mean he can't.”
“Oh, please. All he does is drink, fuck, and ride around on his bike playing cops and robbers. How is he supposed to raise a child?” Jackie sighed and ran her hands through her long, dark hair. She tried to make her voice softer, not wanting to make their argument any more public than it already was. “Look, I know this lifestyle is important to you guys, but it's no place for a kid.”
“What about Finn? Linc? They were raised in this club. Hell, Lincoln even has his own kid, another on the way.”
“Yeah, and Lana is afraid every time you guys go out that Lincoln won't come back. I can't live like that. I don't want my child to have to do that either.”
“So, it's better for the kid to grow up never knowing its dad?”
“No, but it's better than me having to explain why daddy isn't coming home when he gets himself arrested, or worse, killed. Or trying to explain what daddy does for a living and why he comes home covered in blood.”
Jackie grabbed her sunglasses and keys from the table before getting up and storming out of the restaurant. Jagger moved to follow her, then cursed and doubled back. He threw down a few bills, picked up his own sunglasses, and left the building.
“You are not-” The slamming of the driver's side door cut him off. “...driving.” Growling, he sulked to the passenger door and entered the vehicle. She peeled out of the lot as soon as he was in and headed back to the interstate.
37
The ride out of Jacksonville was silent as both of the truck's occupants refused to be the first one to speak. Jackie gripped the steering wheel tightly as Jagger's words set in. It wasn't like he was the only one to disagree with her plans, but he was definitely the most vocal. And she was trying not to let his comment about Finn and Lincoln change her opinion. Children didn't need to be raised in an environment filled with guns, sex, and breaking the law. Otherwise, they'd turn out to be criminals themselves.
Just like Finn and Lincoln.
Or worse, they become killers, just like Dean... and Jagger.
The man in question sighed loudly and thumped his head against the window. That probably wasn't exactly what Nash had in mind when he'd asked Jagger to talk with Jackie. It had started okay, in his opinion. But then she had to go and drop a bombshell. Nash had neglected to mention that little tidbit. How was he supposed to react to that kind of news? And the secrecy and lying and running away – Jagger rolled his eyes at all the bullshit. It made him think of the possibility that he had kids out there that he wasn't aware of. But did he really want to know about them? He looked at the young girl beside him out of the corner of his eye. Maybe she had a point in not telling Dean about this baby.
Sighing, he sucked up a bit of his pride and tried to come up with something to say that might mend the situation. They weren't going to get anywhere if they weren't talking at all.
“Look, Jack,” Jagger finally said, choosing his words carefully. “I probably-”
“Uh, Jagger?”
“I'm trying to say something, so can you just be quiet-”
“Jagger! I thought you said those Saints guys would leave us alone.”
“What are you talking about?” He turned around in his seat to look out the back window. “Fucking hell.”
Quickly gaining on the old truck were two black vans and a group of motorcycles, whose riders weren’t sporting any cuts. Still, it was pretty obvious to guess which club they belonged to.
“What should I do?” Jackie asked frantically, her eyes glued to the rear-view mirror as the rival gang drew closer.
“Drive.”
They were mere minutes from Kings' territory, and if they could just cross that border, they'd be fine. Jackie pushed the accelerator to the floor, hoping her poor truck would rise to the occasion and get above sixty miles an hour. As the red needle settled just at the mark indicating sixty, she cursed herself for not getting a newer car when she had the chance.
These bikers were obviously doing more than just escorting them out of their territory. Jackie didn't know what their problem was, but she really didn't want to get involved with them.
The trailing vehicles closed the distance quickly, and one black van sped around them. “Where are they going?” she asked hesitantly, only to squeak loudly as they veered into her lane in front of them.
“Oh shit!” Jagger exclaimed when the motion of her swerve forced him to brace against the door with his hand.
“Should I pull over?” she asked nervously, trying to keep some distance from the van.
Jagger rolled his eyes as he took stock of the Saints' force. “Two guns versus twelve, guess who wins?”
“This is not the time for your sarcasm, asshole! What the hell do we do?”
Before he could answer, the piercing sound of bullets hitting glass filled the air. Jackie screamed as the window next to her shattered, and Jagger pulled her down into the seat, covering her as he tried to steer the truck and avoid being shot. It didn't take long for one of the guns to aim at the tires, firing off a few rounds into the rubber and making the truck fishtail across the road. Jagger attempted to use the steering wheel to correct the direction, but only managed to swing them towards the right shoulder. Their speed, combined with the sudden jerk of the wheel, did not bode well for the top-heavy truck.
The next thing they knew, the vehicle and its occupants were fly
ing through the air. Jagger was tossed around the cabin as the truck flipped over, then landed on its side and continued to roll until it came to a stop upside down. He fell to the ground harshly as the truck abruptly quit moving, the momentum throwing him out of the now glassless front window.
The biker groaned as he laid on his back in the hot dirt. He vowed to himself that he would definitely wear a seatbelt from now on. Listening for the sound of motorcycles, he was glad to find mostly silence, which hopefully meant that the Saints wouldn't be coming back to check out their handy work.
He felt for any broken bones but found only that his ribs and left leg were giving him some minor pain. Rolling carefully onto his side, he called out to the car's other inhabitant, knowing she had been smart enough to wear her seat belt. “Jackie, I need you to call Vic. My knee is fucking killing me.” The only response he got was from the coastal birds, which caused him to pick his head up with a wince. He expected to find Jackie glaring at him, ready to start a lecture about unsafe child environments and the club owing her a new car.
That wasn't the scene that greeted him.
Restrained upside down in her seat, Jackie appeared to be unconscious. “Jackie? Sweetheart, you okay?” More silence led him to cuss, and he began to crawl his way towards the truck a few feet away. The closer he got, the more noticeable the red liquid on her forehead became. “Oh, shit. Jack! Wake up!” He moved faster and managed to wedge himself next to her, paling at the amount of blood coming from a nasty gash on her head. “Shit, shit, shit. Hang in there, baby.”
His leg forgotten, Jagger prayed harder than he ever had in his life that the cell phone in his pocket hadn't been rendered useless during the crash. He shouted triumphantly as he found that it still worked, even with a severely cracked screen. He dialed the emergency services number with shaking hands, anxiously awaiting a voice on the other end.