by HJ Bellus
Layla races off toward the sea of people. I’m more than happy not to be involved in it. Stale French fry grease wafts off my pores. I needed to shower before heading here but didn’t want to miss the weigh in. It’s the one thing Jag asked me to attend this morning.
Five or six bodyguards swarm Bella and me. My heart seizes, and I step back.
“It’s fine, ma’am. We know who you are…”
My mind swims, and my vision blurs. I keep Bella clutched to my side. They’re here for me. My time’s up. Bella. I have Bella in my arms; she can’t be wrapped up in this mess. She’d come out a casualty for sure, being tied with my name.
“Are you okay?” One of the men grabs my shoulder, steadying me.
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “What were you saying?”
“We know who you are. Jag and Boss have given strict orders to keep you safe. Now that you have Bella in your arms, there will be extra security on you.”
I gulp down the fear. The slivers and shards of the pain slice as they go down. Bella snaps me out of my trance when her tiny hands clap on my cheeks. “Wag.”
I look over at her. Her pointer finger waves wildly in the air. “Wag! Wag! Wag!”
Her voice grows louder each time she hollers his name. Even though the conference room is packed and wild with excitement, her sweet, little voice carries over the crowd. Jag peers up, recognizing his name. When he makes eye contact with us, Bella goes wild in some high-pitched warrior cry.
Jag tosses his head back in laughter and then sends her a wave-punch combo. It’s everything I can do to keep her in my arms. She chants his name over and over, calling out different punches. I manage to walk to a row of cushioned chairs perched against the back row. Since Jag, Boss, and Cruz are up on a stage, my view is perfect.
“Boobs.” Bella reaches down for the hem of her shirt and pulls it up, repeating the word over and over.
“Oh, honey.” I pull down her t-shirt.
My phone chirps, and I reach for it only to see Jag’s name on the screen.
Monster Cock: I fucking love you.
The sight of my phone distracts Bella from labeling her body parts. Her chubby fingers snag it out of my hands. I watch in amazement as she masters the buttons and swipes through my screens.
Her lower lip pops out and trembles. “Bubbles.”
“What, honey?” I push her bangs out of her face and adjust her bow on the top of her head.
“Bubbles.”
I’m lost. Clueless as she repeats the words over and over again, pounding the phone with her pudgy finger.
“Ma’am, let me.” One of the familiar bodyguards steps up and grabs the phone.
Bella’s inner demon comes out. I’ve never been afraid of Jag or Cruz after getting to know him, but the fit Bella is pitching right now has me fearing for my life. Her cry could pierce anyone’s eardrum. Her feet and hands flail in the air. Her tiny body nearly squirms out of my grip.
“Here.” The bodyguard places the phone back in Bella’s view.
It’s like magic. Her cries stop, and she grabs the phone. Her giggles now ring around the room. Holy shit, I’ve never seen someone change moods so rapidly. Especially someone the size of Bella. The bodyguard places a sippy cup of juice next to my side and nods to me.
Not only does this little princess have a loving family, but also security and a babysitter wrapped in one. I place my lips on her feather-soft baby hair, relishing in her sweet scent.
“You’re so blessed to have so many people who love you,” I whisper to her.
Bella doesn’t glance up from my phone as she pops bubbles with her chubby finger. The chaos in the room is deaf on her ears.
Layla gives me a thumbs up from the stage and an apologetic grimace. I smile back brightly, loving the spot I’m in even with Bella’s outburst. There’s lots of movement and waiting until another man followed by his own army joins the room. That’s when the noise level rises as well as the tension in the room.
Jag crosses his arms over his chest; it’s then I realize what’s printed on his shirt. My cheeks flame into a fiery inferno. I taste like honey. Free taste tasting. The phrase is followed up by a down arrow pointing to Jag’s junk. The morning in our kitchen floods back in.
Leave it up to Jag to throw some humor in this tense situation. I’d be the only one to pick up on the joke. Jag doesn’t show one side of his jackass humor. Once the other men joined the stage, he’s all game. That look on his face when he’s about to enter the ring is held firmly in place.
What happens next is confusing as hell. Jag and another man stare at each other like they’d like to rip their heads off. This all happens after they stepped on a scale and their weights were announced. Now they stare into each other’s eyes, nose to nose, and ready to rip one another body’s apart.
I squeeze Bella for security. She doesn’t pay me a piece of attention, absorbed in the game on my phone. I glance around, and nobody else seems to think anything is off. I’m ready for the two men to throw punches. They remain frozen for long, drawn-out moments.
Jag’s opponent is the first one to step back. He pounds his chest and roars to the crowd. He doesn’t stop there, showboating the entire time. Jag doesn’t engage. He yanks on his t-shirt, keeping his game face in place. Boss and Cruz stand by his side with identical looks covering their features.
It’s like black and white between the two teams. One quiet, confident, and respectful while the other is vocal. I couldn’t be any prouder of Jag than at this moment. This isn’t him, and I know it’s taken every ounce of his strength to remain quiet. A gentle smile dances across my face as I watch the man I love stand with pride and confidence.
My chest tightens with love as each second ticks by. My phone holds Bella’s attention until the room clears out. I don’t move, waiting for Jag and the rest of the crew. They disappeared behind a closed door about twenty minutes ago. Even though there’s only about ten people left, the bodyguards remain right next to me. They’re quiet and not overwhelming, and deep down, it’s comforting.
A door next to the stage bursts open. It’s the first time Bella looks up from the phone. She tosses it to the floor and leaps from my lap, screaming out her version of Jag. He drops to his knees without a second thought, throwing his arms wide open.
“I swear we are chopped liver when he’s around,” Cruz grumbles.
“I know.” Layla pats his chest. “She’s still a daddy’s girl. Don’t you worry about that.”
“It’s because he’s a damn clown. What little kid wouldn’t love him?” Boss adds.
I stand up and stretch out my limbs. It’s the truth. Boss couldn’t have said it any better. Jag’s future children will never have any idea how blessed they are. I don’t let the sadness creep in and lock it out. This is Jag’s moment.
“Jag already said yes, but I want to pass it by you first.” Layla directs her words at me.
“What’s that? Should I be scared?”
Everyone laughs.
“You’re a smart girl.” Boss wraps an arm around my shoulders, surprising me.
When Layla is done laughing, she clues me in. “Any other time I’d say yes. It’s nothing big. Cruz and I want to go to a local concert, and Jag volunteered to babysit Bella.”
“We’d love her,” I say without thought.
“Are you sure? She’s a handful.”
“Trust me, she scared the crap out of me earlier when I didn’t know what ‘bubbles’ were.”
Cruz’s shoulders shake. “I saw your panic from the stage. Good thing she has all these men trained.”
We continue talking, waiting for Jag and Bella to finish their wrestling match. I find out the bodyguards are up-and-coming fighters. Hell, I thought it was something official and fancy. It cements the fact these men are a family, one where bonds can’t be broken and your back will always be covered.
“Madré. Madré.” Bella races up, throwing her balled fists into Layla’s thigh. Once she has her mom’s
attention, she pats her little chest over the Diablo Throne’s logo. “I go Wag.”
Layla kneels down and speaks to her daughter in Spanish. The only word I pick up is yes, and whatever else she says appeases Bella. Her eyes light up, she races to her dad and gives him kisses and hugs, then is in Jag’s arms.
“You forgetting someone?” Boss steps over to Jag and holds his arms up.
Bella squeals something in Spanish and loves on her grandpa. She doesn’t leap out of his arms but instead snuggles into his chest while we finish up talking. Layla tells me everything about Bella and the time they expect to be home.
Cruz and Layla finally leave after peppering their daughter with kisses. She couldn’t care less her parents are leaving. I think that might hurt them more than the fact that they are leaving their daughter.
“Come to Wag.” Bella squeezes Boss’ cheeks.
“It’s my bedtime, baby Bella.”
Her bottom lip pops out on cue, and tears well in her eyes.
“C’mon, old man, we have an extra steak and dose of Geritol.” Jag slaps him on the back. “Shit, you can even sleep over. We can pick up a pair of Depends on the way home.”
I hear Boss grumble as we walk out the door. Pretty sure he’d kick Jag’s ass if he weren’t holding his granddaughter in his arms. One of the things I love the most about this town is everything is pretty much within walking distance. Jag holds my hand as we walk the six blocks to our apartment.
Boss and Jag talk about the fight tomorrow. I’m shocked they’re so calm about it. You’d think they were talking about a money transfer or placing an order for a case of ketchup and not a match where one or both men will get beaten to a bloody pulp. I cringe, thinking of the bruises on Jag’s face from the last fight that took a good week to heal up.
Jag unlocks the apartment and holds the door open for all of us to enter.
“Let me go change, then I’ll start dinner,” I announce.
Jag follows me back to our bedroom while Boss and Bella make themselves comfortable on the couch. She’s never been here since I moved, but it’s clear she’s visited her Uncle Jag before by the way she makes herself at home as she kicks off her sparkly shoes.
“Babe, I’ll cook. You worked today.” Jag grabs my hips, pulling my back to his chest.
“It’s not like you’ve been lying around and eating potato chips.” I wrap both arms back around his neck. “Go relax and enjoy. My man needs to win tomorrow.”
“Babe, are you sure?” He kisses the side of my neck.
“Go.” I push off him. “Let me change out of these stinky clothes, and I’ll be out there.”
Jag grumbles and gropes my ass before leaving the room. The happy chatter outside energizes my exhausted limbs. The tiredness in my feet fades away as I move about the bathroom, throwing on comfy lounge clothes.
Bella has the two men entertained when I reemerge and head into the kitchen. I had a salad and cut-up veggies prepped from a few nights ago. It takes no time to cook the steaks on a George Foreman grill. It’s the loaded potatoes that take the most time. Jag had told me he’d need to carb load tonight. I looked up a recipe on Pinterest yesterday and found all the ingredients.
“You keep teaching her bad things, and Layla is going to kick your ass.”
“Ass. Ass. Ass.” Bella follows the men in the kitchen, chirping away.
Jag laughs, encouraging the behavior. Boss scoops the little girl up in his arms, doing his best to correct his wrong. Jag grabs a beer out of the fridge for Boss and pours me a glass of wine. I take a sip and kiss him without thinking. Everything feels so damn natural between us.
We enjoy several laughs and a great meal. Our impromptu visitors are perfect to relax Jag before his big unexpected fight.
Chapter 20
Sunni
The sun assaults my skin through the open curtains, offering up the perfect warmth to keep me in a sleepy haze. I should get up. Layla and Cruz showed up around midnight last night to pick up Bella. Jag and Bella had long since passed out on the couch while watching a marathon of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
Of course, this was before Jag unrolled two entire paper towel rolls and made swords out of the tubes. They didn’t last long, and soon Jag became Bella’s personal trained fire-breathing dragon, and they conquered all the lands. Boss snuck out in the middle of the action. It was nice getting to know him more. I’m not sure if it was the beer and the wine that made our conversation flow or if it was just Jag’s loving nature.
Monster Cock: Roses are red. Violets are fine. You be the six, and I’ll be the nine.
I shake my head at Jag’s insane text. The man devoured me last night and this morning before heading out to the gym. He left at six in the morning to get his head in the right frame of mind.
Me: You did that this morning. Was it that forgettable?
Monster Cock: It was just a taste test.
Me: Focus, fighter. FOCUS!
Monster Cock: Layla will be at the gym early. Come join us around 3?
Me: I’d tell you I have to work, but I’m guessing you…
Monster Cock: Got you off! Hell yes, I did in more than one way.
Me: See you at 3! Xoxoxo
Monster Cock: Can’t wait to eat you…Love you, baby girl.
I toss the phone to the nightstand and shake my head. It’s going to be a long-ass day until the fight is over. My muscles crave the hot sex like after the last fight. Jag was on edge. His adrenaline and bruises pushed the sex way over the top. It’s always amazing, but Jag high on a fight makes it earth-shattering.
***
Layla isn’t as confident as she was at the first fight. I pick up on her nervous ticks of running her hands through her hair and then down her dark-washed skinny jeans. I was quite proud of how calm I was until she saddled up next to me. I know there’s way too much history between these two gyms. The hatred is palpable in the air rolling in the large gym.
It feels weird not to see the logo for Diablo’s Throne plastered on the walls along with their three signature words—Heart, Fire, and Desire. It has everything else a gym would have, including the octagon, but it still feels off somehow.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Layla leaps from our front row seat.
“What?” I stand up next to her, trying to look in the same direction.
Layla doesn’t answer me. She marches to a hall that leads back to the locker room. It’s not long before she reappears with Boss on her heels. I’ve never seen their resemblance until now. Their nostrils flare, chins held high, and eyes that are cold, harsh, and flinty.
I step back as they walk right past me. I can’t help but follow them, intrigued to what in the hell is going on. Someone or something has double-crossed the Diablos, and that means it’s a direct threat to Jag. This can’t be happening right now.
“You son of a bitch.” Boss flies forward, yanking a man down by his collar.
He doesn’t stop and drags him out of the gym to the front sidewalk. I follow the chaos, having a hell of a time keeping up. In the blink of an eye, I see an older Jag standing in front of Boss. A chill creeps up my spine. There’s no doubt this man is his father. The smug bastard has the nerve to smile and hold his head high in his Titan’s Tribe gear.
Boss is going to kill him. I do not doubt that. I’ve learned more of the depth of the abuse this man put Jag through. It wasn’t just being slapped around. Jag was harmed in ways no little boy should ever have to be. Parts of his past were impossible for me digest, not being able to comprehend it.
The evil seeping through the open air makes this man’s intentions clear as day. He’s here to ruin everything for Jag and the people who have supported him throughout the years.
“Something funny, motherfucker?” Boss shoves the man in the shoulder.
He holds his hands up as if he’s innocent in this whole scenario. “Just a man working at his new job.”
“Over my dead body,” Boss grits out, advancing on him. “You and
I both know you’re here for one reason.”
“You talking about my son?” He jerks his head.
The man just sealed his death wish. Boss doesn’t say a word before cocking back his arm and striking the man in the jaw with brutal force. I’ve never seen someone strike a punch with so much hatred.
I don’t think before I move, racing back through the door and down the hall to the locker rooms. I have no idea what room Jag is in.
“Jag!” I scream his name over and over until a door opens and his head pops out. Cruz is right behind him. Their eyes grow wide and frantic when they see my state.
Shit. I need to calm down. Once I tell Jag what I have to say to him, he’ll be wound up enough.
“Boss.” I gasp for air. “He’s outside. Your—uh.”
I stumble over my words. I know that man isn’t Jag’s dad. He may have given Jag his DNA, but that’s where it ends.
“Sunni.” Jag steps up to me.
I shake my head and blurt it all out. “Your dad is here. Boss is going to kill him.”
Chapter 21
Jag
“Stay here.” I push Sunni to the side and sprint down the hall.
Thundering footsteps hammer behind me. Cruz is jerking me back as I blow through the front door. I shrug him off. A crowd swarms the two men in the center. I elbow my way through, knocking down any asshole standing in my way.
“He’s not your son, you sick fuck. Never was.” Boss straddles a body on the ground, both his fists flying and striking brutal punches.
“Boss,” I holler.
He doesn’t stop assaulting his intended target. My gut twists, not wanting to see Satan’s face. The thought of Boss killing a man is enough to make me move.
“Boss.” I grab an arm. Cruz is next to me, yanking Boss’ other arm, while Trick wraps his arms around Boss’ torso. We manage to pull the raging bull to his feet. Even with the three of us using all our strength, we barely manage to hold him back.