Jag (Pandemic Sorrow #1)

by Stevie J. Cole

  The cool climate slapped me in the face as soon as I opened the door to my house. The familiar smell of home immediately made my tense muscles relax. I dropped my bags in the entranceway and jumped over my couch, slamming my head back on one of the cushions and taking a breath.

  One of the housekeepers came out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her pants. “You look beat. Want a water?”

  Turning my head to the side, I smiled. “Yeah, if you don’t mind. And a glass of bourbon.”

  She huffed. Her pencil-thin eyebrows pointed down as she dug one balled-up fist into her thick waistline. “I’m not going to be an enabler, Mr. Steele.”

  “Damn, Beth. Stop calling me Mr. Steele. You’re old enough to be my mom. And you act like it too! And I’m not a fucking Mister.” Beth retreated to the kitchen and I flipped the TV on, skimming through some channels and stopping when I saw River on the screen.

  “Here, sweetie.” Beth handed my water to me and plopped down next to me on the couch. She rubbed her hand over the top of my head like she was petting a Pomeranian. “I never did like that one. Not one redeeming quality about her. And she pitches such fits all the time. Spoiled little girl.” Beth’s lips snarled up and she shuddered a little. “And when she doesn’t have on all that makeup, she’s a little scary.”

  I couldn’t help but snicker. I adored Beth. She was my favorite housekeeper, the only one I’d really talk to. “Yep. Complete cunt,” I said, taking a sip of the ice-cold artisan water.

  She frowned at me, the deep ridges around her mouth exaggerated from her scowl. “Do you have to always be so vulgar?” She shook her head and pushed herself up from the couch, popping her back when she straightened up. “I’ll be back Wednesday. Everything’s clean, I went shopping, got the usuals – and no, I didn’t buy any liquor, and I didn’t fill any of your bogus prescriptions. You’ll have to do that yourself, or get one of the housekeepers with a death wish for you to do it!”

  Beth smiled, then made her way to the door. And once again, I was alone. Lying there, I watched about ten minutes of River’s terrible acting and then turned off the TV. I closed my eyes and tried to find sleep, but I couldn’t.

  I drug myself to my bedroom. The black curtains covering the windows completely blocked out the sun, and I hoped that maybe that would help me. Glancing at the wall, I noticed the holes I’d punched and kicked through it had all been patched and painted. I’d lost count of how many times that’d been done. It wasn’t really that I had anger problems, but that I had something like a drug problem. Well, drug problem’s not exactly the right phrase – more like I had a problem with drugs making me angry. Cocaine can turn even the most docile guy into a raging lunatic. Staring at the spot that I’d punched through, I thought back over that argument with River, which made me think about the fact that I still had those fucking papers I had to deal with. Somehow, I’d failed to mention the fact that I had a kid to my lawyers, my brother, James…to anyone. River only found out by accident, and, honestly, I was surprised that bitch hadn’t spread it all over fucking Hollywood. For whatever reason, it must have been a blow to her ego, because that is the only reason she would have refrained from slinging my name through mud when she was pissed at me.

  I pulled open my dresser drawer and grabbed one of the bottles. The rattling sound caused me to sigh, and I dumped out a few pills to toss back into my throat. Eventually I managed to drift off to sleep, and it felt like I was immediately woken up by my phone blaring next to my head. Grabbing it, I mumbled, “Yeah?”

  “You ready to try and win that bet again?” Stone chuckled into the phone. “I’ll give you an extension.”

  I glanced over at the clock and realized I’d been asleep for fifteen hours. “Man. Have I not spent enough time with you jackasses over the past month? What’s next, having me shove my dick in your mouth?”

  “Get your ass up and come down here.”

  “Where are you?” I asked, groaning and rubbing my palm over my eyes.

  “The Club. Just so you can attempt to get a twenty-thousand-dollar blow job.”

  I hung up the phone and tumbled out of bed, running my hand through my hair as I stretched and adjusted my stiffy.

  Stumbling across my room, I stopped at my dresser and yanked open that drawer. I stared down at an assortment of ways to get fucked up, running my calloused fingertips over the tops of bottles and the smooth sides of bags. I had a pharmacy in my drawer, a plethora of pain relievers, but I couldn’t stop myself from grabbing the bag of coke tucked carefully to the side. The first drug I’d done foreplay with was pot, but I’d lost my virginity to cocaine – that was the drug that gave birth to Jag, and I always had a tender spot for her.

  Chapter 17

  Years ago, you wouldn’t have been able to convince me I’d ever be driving a ninety-thousand-dollar car, much less that I’d drive it high as hell through the congested streets of LA. I had no business driving, but there was no reasoning with Jag Steele, especially not when he was coked out of his damn mind. By this point in my life, I’d been convinced there wasn’t anything that I could do that couldn’t be repaired, paid off, or just forgotten about when the next hit song came out. I mean, shit, I’d overdosed once. Dead on arrival to the ER. I even came back from death! Invincible wasn’t strong enough to describe the way I felt, or maybe I just didn’t care. Maybe just not caring is exactly what it was.

  Driving down the strip, I found a spot directly across from The Club. See? Everything always worked out for me, down to finding a damn parking space in LA. I slung my car into the spot, shut the engine off, checked to make sure my drugs were stuffed way down in my jean pocket, and then I opened the door.

  I bent my head down, letting my hair hide my face as I strutted toward the line and pressed the lock button on my key.

  “Holy shit!” a passerby commented as he walked toward my car. “That’s a Lotus, isn’t it? Yeah. A Lotus!”

  I hopped up onto the curve, head still bowed, hands shoved way down in my pockets.

  “Jag!” Rush called out.

  Damn. Couldn’t just let me go unnoticed, could you, fucker?

  I wedged myself through the crowd to join the guys. And we were quickly ushered to the front and let in, so beginning another night. I was part of an endless party. This life was exhausting.

  We tromped up to the VIP area, where girls were already lined up for us. I sat there and made my expected and highly anticipated perverted comments as I slammed back drinks. After making several trips to the bathroom to refresh my high, I finally shoved my way toward the bar to see if that girl was working. As I was glaring over at the illuminated liquor shelf, I saw her head pop up right in front of me, and as soon as she realized who was staring into her eyes, she rolled them.

  “Let me guess,” she snarled. “A cum shot, a rim job, or a fucking death wish?” She furiously shook a stainless steel shaker by her shoulder.

  She wasn’t worth it. This girl was unfazed by the filter fame provided me, and she saw the real Jag. She saw that I was lost, miserable, and completely alone. She saw me as just a guy; to her, I was no different than the other guys standing around the bar asking for drinks and her number. There was no point in wasting my time trying to fuck with her. I couldn’t let her get to me. I didn’t chase girls. Hell, when you have girls throwing themselves at you, ripping their clothes off to pop a squat on your dick, you forget rejection is a possibility. “Nah. Just a shot of bourbon.”

  Roxy blinked a couple of times, surprised at my lack of a comeback, before grabbing a bottle and pouring a full shot. I reached back to grab my card, and she shook her head. “If I let you open a tab, I’ll get bitched out.”

  I shrugged and reached for the shot glass, my forefinger grazing against her hand as I took it from her. When I was walking off, I heard some guy yell at her. “Hey! Bitch! I’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she groaned.

  I emptied the shot in my mouth and turned, glaring thr
ough the crowd to see which dumb fuck had said that. I watched Roxy walk up to a meathead standing at the bar and felt my fists clench at my side. For some reason it made me livid that she just let that guy talk to her like that. Shoving several people out of the way, I made my way toward the asshole.

  “Hey! Dumb shit!” I shouted. The guy turned, a confused look on his face. “Yeah. You motherfucker! You think you can just go around calling women bitches?”

  Narrowing his gaze, he laughed and rose from his chair. “Well, yeah.” He shrugged. “I mean, she’s just some dumb bitch that can’t even tend a bar.”

  Heat swallowed my body and my muscles twitched. I felt my nostrils flare, and I bowed my chest out at the guy. “Oh, no. You see, I’m the only guy that’s gonna fuck with her!”

  “Oh, that so?” The guy went to grab me, and I decked him right in the nose before curling my forearm around his neck and squeezing. Then I doubled him over and forced my knee against his face, forcing a deep grunt out of him.

  Jerking him up by his hair, I nodded and narrowed my eyes. “Yeah, motherfucker. It’s a damn fact.” I quickly wrapped my arm back around his throat and squeezed.

  The guy squirmed, trying to get away from me, but I just tightened my grip around his neck. One of his friends punched me in the back of my head. I felt someone grab onto my shoulders in an effort to get me off the guy.

  “Hey, man, let him go,” another guy demanded.

  “Security, security!” Roxy shouted over the commotion of people rallying around.

  I continued punching him, anger pouring out from my core. This guy caught the brunt force of everything I’d been dealing with. My dad, Layne, the fact that I was a failure at being sober, the fact that I was miserable – I let all that out on this guy’s face.

  All of a sudden I felt a cold stream of water pelting against my back, but that didn’t stop me. Just as I dug my fingers into the guy’s shoulders to knee him again, I felt hands seize me and jerk me off of him.

  Security had swarmed all around us. As they held me back, the asshole was escorted out. They wouldn’t dare ask me to leave. I was Jag Steele. My presence brought business to them.

  People applauded, probably not even sure why they were clapping. As I pushed my way toward the stairs, I noticed Roxy standing up on the bar top, soda gun still in hand and staring at me. The girl had hosed me down like a fucking animal. All I could do was shake my drenched head. She was nowhere close to normal.

  ****

  Hours later, I walked out to the street with some random girl hanging all over me. Every few steps she would giggle and trip over her own feet.

  “What’s your name, princess?” I asked, supporting her with my arm.

  “Cwissel,” she slurred. Realizing it hadn’t come out as clearly as needed, she cleared her throat and tried again. “Crystal.”

  Opening the door to my car, I helped her in. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

  A drunken smile plastered itself across her mouth, and I couldn’t help but think how great those big-ass lips would feel slurping back my dick.

  “Oh, I’m such a big fan and – holy shit! I’m like, so in your car right now!” She stared up at me, a sex fog falling over her hazel eyes. “I’m so gonna screw you, aren’t I?”

  I laughed as I walked around to the driver’s side. She could do whatever she wanted, didn’t matter to me.

  The door slammed shut, and I immediately leaned over and forced my lips over hers, slipping my tongue into her mouth and caressing the roof of her mouth. The girl let out a low groan and flung her hands up around my neck. She gathered my hair up in her hands, scratching through it at first, and then, as her hormones overtook her, she began fisting and tugging on it. She moaned again and jerked me closer to her, cramming the gear shift in my abdomen. My hands felt down her chest and then sank between her warm thighs.

  This chick’s kiss was sloppy, tinged with vodka tonic, and in the middle of licking all over my face, she panted, “Oh. My. God. When I go to school Monday, no one’s gonna believe that I screwed Jag Steele in his car.” She licked up the side of my neck, drool oozing down my flesh as she let out a high-pitched squeal.

  My hands continued creeping between her smooth legs and then her comment hit me. “What?” I jerked myself away from her. “How fucking old are you?”

  Her eyes blew open and her lips trembled as she stammered. “I – I…umm.” She looked around the inside of my car like she was trying to find something with a date of birth on it. “I’m twenty.” She paused and her eyes widened even more. “I mean, twenty-one.”

  Narrowing my eyes on her, I let out a breath. “How old are you? Don’t fuck around with me. This shit’s not funny!”

  Her head dropped and she chewed on her lip. “Seventeen.” She raised her head quickly, a nervous grin twitching across her lips. “But I’ll be eighteen in a few months.”

  “Oh, no.” I shook my head and scooted away from her. “Fuck no!” I yelled. “Get outta my car!” I demanded, pointing out the window.

  “It’s not like I’ll tell anyone. And even if I did, nobody’s gonna believe me. I absolutely know what I’m doing. I’m not a virgin,” she tried to argue with me, and then greedily reached for my crotch.

  Slapping her hand away, I said, “No. I’ve got enough shit on me. I don’t need fucking a teenager added to my list of offenses. I’m ten years older than you. Shit!” I wiped her spit from my face, my skin crawling with the fact that I’d just had my tongue shoved down her throat.

  She sat up and reached for the handle.

  “Wait,” I mumbled. Arching my back up, I dug my wallet out of my pocket. I pulled a wad of cash out and handed it to her. I didn’t bother counting it, because it wasn’t like I’d miss any of it. I just wanted this piece of jailbait out of my car. “Take a cab. You don’t need to be driving, and you don’t need to be trying to get a ride with some stranger.” I reached across her chest and opened the door. “Now get out!”

  She reluctantly stepped out of the car, peering back in one more time.

  “Oh, and princess,” I shouted. “Next time you decide to get in a car with some stranger, you might want to think about it!”

  “You’re not a stranger. You’re Jag Steele!”

  I groaned and wiped my hand down my face. “I’m a real fuck-up, and sometimes I still have a conscience. You won’t always get so lucky.”

  She grunted. “Oh, my God. What are you, a dad?” She slammed the door and wobbled across the street.

  “Fuck!” I said under my breath. That’s all I needed. I leaned my seat back and stared out the windshield.

  My dick was still hard as shit, and now I had nobody to do a damn thing about it. I’d snorted a line before leaving the bar and just didn’t give a shit. I unzipped my pants, pulled my dick out, and gripped it in my hands. I wasn’t driving all the way home with a hard-on, and I was too lazy to roll out of my car and grab a chick to suck me off.

  I closed my eyes and couldn’t help but let Roxy’s face pop up in my head. I tugged the skin, twisting as I made my way up. It wasn’t enough. I slid my pants down under my ass and grabbed my balls with the other hand. Squeezing them, I pulled up on my dick, then pushed down on it, concentrating right underneath my head with my thumb, brushing against the barbell each time I drew up. The radio was blaring and then “Winter Solstice” came on. I had my throbbing dick in my hand, jerking myself off in my fucking Lotus on the side of Ventura Boulevard, listening to myself sing. Incredible.

  Just as I got into a good rhythm and my leg started to draw up from the pending orgasm, I heard a tap on my passenger side window. I didn’t bother to stop jerking myself off when I glanced out the window to find Roxy standing there, staring in. When she realized what I was doing, her jaw dropped. I smiled and kept going, my hand slapping hard against my lower abdomen. Shortly after, and with her still plastered to the window, I felt tingles shoot over my body. My left leg jerked up toward my chest, and I tossed my head back, gripping
my bottom lip between my teeth. I couldn’t resist the urge to look over at her as I let out a low grunt. She was still wide-eyed and staring through the window at me. I winked and gave myself one last tug, then wiped the come from my stomach with the bottom of my shirt.

  Roxy straightened up and started back toward the club. I shoved my dick back into my pants and opened the door. Leaning over the hood of my car, I shouted, “Did you enjoy that show, princess? Did that get you all wet between those killer thighs of yours?”

  She picked up her pace. “Too short for my taste,” she yelled back over her shoulder.

  “Hey! You’re welcome for saving you from that prick, by the way!”

  “Thanks. Unlike you, he wasn’t bothering me.”

  I watched her disappear into the club, and then I climbed back in my car to head home. I had let that girl get under my skin. And I didn’t like it.

  Chapter 18

  Opening one of my drawers, I took out the crinkled papers and flipped through them. Every time I tried to read through it, my mind bogged down. I still had yet to get past the first few sentences.

  “Jagger Layne Steele.” I read his name out loud. Stephanie had given him my first and last name; given him the name I’d always said I’d give a son, but she never gave me the chance to be his father. Rubbing my hand over my mouth, I stared at that name. I’d never done anything to her. Never once cheated on her, never treated her like I treated women now, and still, she’d left me knowing she was pregnant and not thought enough of me to tell me until my knowledge of it would benefit her. Was I really that fucked up that I couldn’t even be trusted to be called “Dad”? Hell, teenagers fill those shoes sometimes. Then my mind barreled through what all I’d missed. I had no idea what he looked like as a baby, no idea what day he was born, I knew absolutely nothing about him. I was a sperm donor.