by V. Theia
“It’s a tall order, Tag.”
“I know, but is it doable?”
“Anything is possible if you have the right reach. Fortunately, or unfortunately for you, depending how you look at it, I know a guy who can get what you need.” Lawless added. “It’s gonna cost you. And I don’t only mean money.”
“What will he expect?”
“With Jay Benz, you never fucking know until you know. So, be sure this is what you really want to do, because the moment you sign your name in blood to him, he’s got you by the balls.”
“He sounds a barrel of laughs. How do you know this guy again?”
“You could say I was his protégé back in the day.”
“Holy fuck, he taught you how to be an evil shit?” Laughed Tag.
“Nah, I was already that, but he did hone my skills. He’ll be suspicious at first, the man doesn’t trust anyone. Mention my name, that should get you a meeting. The rest is down to you.”
Tag only had a moment to thank Lawless when he heard a muffled voice in the background. “Let’s go, Penn, you’ve had long enough.”
“Keep your panties on.” And then to Tag he said, “gotta go, Champ, he’s a nervous shit. Good luck on Saturday. Try not to get dead.”
Tag chuckled. “Marianna said the same thing, no one has faith in my fists.”
“Course we do. I’ve laid ten grand down on you, so don’t fucking lose.”
Even from prison, Lawless could achieve anything, even putting down a bet.
Lawless had been right.
Tag used the number and got through to a watchdog or secretary, whoever the fella answered Jay Benz’s phone was. He hung up when Tag asked for a meeting. Ringing back again, it only took, “Lawless vouches for me.”
They set up a meeting for fight night.
If all went right, things should happen soon.
Intent on finding his little dancer, he came up short out on the gym floor when he saw a familiar blonde. Gritting his back teeth, he stalked up to Sofia. She’d been plaguing him with calls until he blocked her number. With nothing to say to the woman, he didn’t hold grudges, but he didn’t want to be friendly either.
“Baby, it’s good to see you.” She beamed.
“Not your baby, Sofia. What are you doing here?”
“Can’t I come by to see you?”
“I’m not doing this. Either use the gym or leave.” Unless it was poking her nose where it wasn’t wanted, she wasn’t one to workout. He’d thought it was cute for a minute a long time ago. Now it irritated him. She assumed her job gave her rights.
The vulture circling had a reason, and he didn’t like it.
Her beaming face morphed into something nasty.
“Aren’t you ever going to forgive me, Tag?”
He shook his head, tired of this shit. He’d been raised not to hate women, even though his mom was never the best. Sofia had done a devious thing, but he didn’t hate her. But she was getting on his last fucking nerves. More so when she tried to press her tits into his chest. He was unaffected by her technique.
It didn’t help his irritation when he saw Marianna round the corner and come up short when she saw who he was with. Goddammit.
“This is getting old. Move the fuck on. We dated, it ended.”
“We were more than dating.” Maybe in her crazy mind. Not in his. “Please, can we talk?”
“No.”
“Because of her? The fucking Russian.”
Tag’s eyes pinned to narrow slits, and he set his voice low. “Be very fucking careful what you say next.”
Sofia’s true bitchier nature showed itself.
For the time they dated, she didn’t like any of his brother’s old ladies.
Possessiveness was something he didn’t like.
Though he wouldn’t mind Marianna being possessive over him.
“What the hell do you see in her, Tag? I can give you better than she does. Bet you don’t even know there’s no paper trail of her anywhere.”
That’s all he needed to hear when he grasped her arm, all but dragging her into his office. He slammed the door, yanked her closer until she could see the killer in his eyes. “Didn’t I say be very fucking careful what you say next? You don’t learn, Sofia.”
“Funny how she has no record, isn’t it?” She chimed. “Hmmm. Let’s take a guess why a foreign bitch is not registered in the system. Bet she’d be in trouble if I dropped that information to the right department.”
Tag’s blood went nuclear. “Making shit up only makes you look crazy.”
“I don’t have to do anything with that information if you give me a chance, Tag.” Sweet talk didn’t work on him back then. Didn’t now. “We were good together, you know we were, handsome, you fuck like a dream, I know I made you happy. I’ve missed you, haven’t you missed me?” He stopped her hands from creeping up his chest, pushing her back from him.
“Move on, Sofia. This shit is boring.”
“I won’t lose you.” She hissed. “I don’t fucking lose!” Spoiled brat showed her true goals before she masked her anger. “If you want to save the Russian bitch, think about it...”
Seething inside, he’d fucking destroy her if she ever tried to touch Marianna, no hesitation.
“Get out.” He said, bored. She turned a sickly-sweet smile on him, waving her fingers. “You know we’ll be good again, Tag.” He shut the door in her face.
Fuck him.
His lungs flattened.
She was going to be an irritant.
He either fucked her or she’d rat on Marianna being an illegal citizen.
Anyone else he would have plugged up the problem.
Nothing would get in the way of him protecting his woman.
Sofia being a fucking cop put invisible shackles on him.
Yeah, she hadn’t been his cleverest decision, that was for damn sure.
TWENTY-SEVEN
“Oh, I do enjoy stirring the pot. Call it a hobby of mine.” – Jay Benz
The air was always wired before a match.
The blood lust and violence.
The adrenaline.
And savageness.
“You feel good?” Asked the Butcher for the tenth time. Tag smirked and flexed the tape around his fingers.
“Yes, dad. I’m good. You’ll make sure you and Roux look after Marianna, yeah?”
“Don’t worry, brother, Roux is with her now.”
“If shit goes wrong…” he started, and Butcher nodded. “No need to worry, we got her.”
Rolling his neck, a throat clearing behind them made him switch his gaze.
Arson was in the doorway. “Okay to come in, Champ?” He asked.
“Where the fuck have you been, asshole?” Tag replied, rising to his feet to stand as Arson approached with a slower stride, hands deep in his jean pockets. He looked sober for once.
Butcher chuckled and clapped Arson on the shoulder, “good to see you, brother. I’ll let you kids kiss and make up, gotta see what trouble my woman is getting into. She brought Chains with her, so anything is possible.”
“Three fucking weeks, you took off, no one knew where you were.”
“I told Prez I was taking some time off.”
“Yeah, that’s it. Taking time off. I thought you were dead.”
Arson winced and rubbed at the unshaven facial hair on his jaw. “I had to get away for a bit. Still got stuff to sort through. I’ve been a shit friend, Tag.”
Tag interrupted him. “I don’t give a fuck about being best friends forever, Jase, I give a fuck about knowing you’re okay. Are you? Okay?”
Arson’s wide shoulders rolled up under his Souls leather jacket, half-smiling. “Today I am. Right this second I’m okay.”
“Where did you go?”
“I ended up in Vegas.”
Tag frowned, confused. “What was going on in Vegas?”
“No fucking clue, bro. Woke up in a hotel, smelling of perfume, the room wrecked. So you, know, th
e usual.” His smile was sad, embarrassed.
Tag got the impression his friend hated himself, or at least his actions.
Laying his taped hand on Arson’s shoulder, he gripped him by the side of the neck. “You okay? Don’t fucking bullshit me.”
Arson nodded, if only to give Tag reassurance. Tag was grateful for it, and relief flooded through him. “Did you know Danny’s Mrs makes good fucking toast?”
Frowning, he stepped back and plonked his ass down. “Danny Murphy? You’re seeing the holy man?”
“Not for a threesome or anything like that.” He chuckled. “I think the guy would kill me if I looked sideways at his ginger wife.”
“But she makes you toast?”
“Yeah. They’re good people.”
And then.
“I have a problem, Luke.” Arson shocked the fuck out of him. “I’m gonna sort it.”
“Good. I’m here for anything you need, you got it?”
“Yeah. So…” he smirked, “your girl doesn’t like me much. Saw her outside.”
Tag didn’t make excuses for her, even though she had her reasons for disliking drunks. “You gotta be around for her to get to know you.”
“It’s serious?”
He half-rolled a shoulder. “I’m working on making it so, but Sofia’s put a spoke in my wheel.”
“How is deputy Cruella, she skinning puppies?”
“Annoying. Been hanging around again like a foul smell, playing jealous.”
“She always hated someone else playing with her toys. Warned you about sticking your dick in a cop, they’re all power mad lunatics.”
Hindsight was a bitch.
At the time, he was horny, and she did all the chasing.
“She said if I fuck her again she won’t tell the authorities about Marianna not having legal papers.”
Arson whistled through his teeth. “She’s got some balls, I’ll give her that. She thinks that’s gonna work?”
“I fucking guess so.”
“I don’t ever want old lady drama.” Arson chuckled. “It’ll all work out, even if you have to rent your dick out to save your woman. Who’s to know, yeah?”
Tag shook his head.
He was not screwing Sofia.
He hadn’t even fucked his old lady yet, and he was slowly dying of need.
Tag had a meeting with someone not long after Arson took off.
Slipping into a grey hoodie, he found Jay Benz outside waiting in a blacked-out Merc. The window whirred down, and the guy smiled. It wasn’t what you’d call friendly.
“The champion himself. This is a treat. Get in.” the window went back up and Tag rounded to the other side, sliding into the warm car. The driver in front was a guy in his thirties, watching him through the mirror.
“You piqued my interest and that happens so rarely.”
Gesturing his head to the guy in front, Tag asked, “I can speak freely?”
“Indeed. Marco is a steel vault. You could confess to killing your own mother and he wouldn’t bat an eyelash. Isn’t that so, darling?”
“Sure, Boss.”
“Turn deaf a moment so our friend here can discuss what was so important he had to drop Penn’s name.”
Penn. It sounded weird associating Lawless to anything other than Lawless.
“Lawless said you could hook me up with fake documents. Passports especially. But they have to be legit to get someone out of the country, and not just to wave around for ID in a liquor store.”
“I can get anything for the right price. How many?”
“Four. Two adults and two kids.”
“Social security numbers and license?”
“Just the social security for now and I’ll need them yesterday.”
The club knew very little about Jay Benz. He was based in New York until this past year when he relocated his team to Denver. Unlike other newer factions who came to town, Benz hadn’t tried to step on the Souls toes yet.
“The Renegade Souls are a powerful conglomerate, I’m honored you came to me.”
“Can you get it done?”
The guy chuckled. “Naturally, I can. The price is twenty grand, and a favor owed.”
Lawless nailed that shit.
“What kind of favor?”
The guy only smiled.
There was no way Tag could refuse. This was Marianna’s best chance, and he’d give all the favors to make her happy.
“Marco here will come by your gym tomorrow for the information we’ll need.” Tag started to tell him where it was located. “We have the address, darling.”
Weird guy.
“Good luck tonight.” Benz said as Tag was ready to climb from the car. “I have a considerable bet on you.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
One down. Now he had to win his fight.
If only for his ego, to prove to himself he still could.
He prowled back inside, getting his head in the zone.
* * *
Jay Benz watched the big fair-haired man stomp around the corner and disappear. Pity he didn’t get any queer vibes from him, he bet he was fun to play with.
“Are we really gonna get him fake passports?” Asked Marco from the front as he pulled the car out into the street.
“I gave my word.” Jay replied. He was a criminal, not a liar.
And if he didn’t have his word, he was no better than a sewer rat.
“Do you have an angle?”
Smiling to himself, Jay, dressed for dinner in the city, smoothed out the material of his suit jacket. Tonight was for pleasure and not business for once. This had been a pit stop he couldn’t turn down.
“Of course I do, darling. It doesn’t hurt to have the Renegade Souls owe me one, does it?”
Marco looked at him through the rear-view mirror.
“I wish for once everything we did wasn’t because of Lawless.”
Jay chuckled from the back.
So did he sometimes. But alas, now was not one of those times.
His old friend and protégé was never far from his mind.
It was Jay’s own sickness to deal with.
On the corner, two blocks down, Marco pulled over and looked around his shoulder. He didn’t always play driver, but tonight he was. “This won’t end well, Jay.” Marco wasn’t talking about the passports. That was nothing but a nice, easy profit. No, his right-hand man meant something else and Jay smiled as he opened the back door. “You worry too much, darling. Let’s have some fun, shall we?”
He stepped out. The black wool coat keeping off most of the Colorado chill as he smiled at the approaching figure. Such long limbs for a sweet thing. Her dark hair slapped around her face. “Well, don’t you look a picture.” He praised as his eyes skimmed over the thigh length dress she wore with a figure-hugging leather jacket.
“You said to dress up.” The girl replied, picking at the zipper.
She didn’t trust him yet, and that was okay. Plenty of time.
“Shall we? Our reservation is at nine.” He held the door open and she slid inside. He followed and instructed Marco to drive off.
So far, Jay’s time in Colorado was going exactly to plan.
He did so love when that happened.
The girl was nervous, and it showed as she squirmed on the seat, keeping her hands in her lap. He smiled to put her at ease.
Jay wasn’t a monster – most of the time – just a man looking to have a nice meal.
“So, Angela. Tell me all about yourself… and don’t leave a single morsel out.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
“A lucky bastard going for the double win.” - Tag
Marianna was passive by nature.
Tag’s domineering and persuasive personality meant he could override her easily.
But why would he insist she came if he knew cops would be here?
Recognizing well known faces from the TV news too.
Her fight or flee instinct was strong, urging her to leave.
&n
bsp; But she was already so worried about Tag getting hurt, she didn’t know what to do.
Her two bodyguards stuck close.
For once, she was glad of chaos going on around her.
Tag’s fight was next. Ugh, she felt sick over it.
A hand around her wrist brought her thoughts back. “Don’t get lost in the crowd, babe. Tag would lose his mind.”
“I must leave.” she said in a panicked tone. Snake frowned. “The fight isn’t on yet.”
“I know, but,” she looked at the tattooed male. “I recognize that man from the television, police chief, yes? And that other male, is it a, how you say, man of the law?”
Snake cocked his brow and looked over her head. “Yeah, babe, he’s a D.A.”
“Yes, well. I prefer not to be around men of the law.”
He seemed to understand when he cracked a grin. “You don’t get it, but you’re safer here on Souls soil. No one is gonna fuck with you, got it?” She frowned, unsure. “Think about it, a cop and a DA, who’s tanked out of his skull at an illegal fight. They ain’t busting anyone, Marianna. It’s cool, relax.”
Roux said much of the same. She breathed and accepted the glass of wine from her.
“Your man is the favorite to win.” Roux said. Marianna nodded, as one warm up fight ended, and the entry song began for the main event.
Oh, god. Please let him be okay.
Every inch of her heart was invested in Tag.
She hadn’t told him earlier when he grabbed her for a good luck kiss. Instead, she’d told him to win and absolutely not to die.
Ugh. Why didn’t she confess how crazy good he made her feel?
What if something happened, and it was too late to tell him?
Sticking close to Butcher and Roux, she squirmed in her second-row seat, nerves so untamed under her skin.
The man in red shorts looked vicious.
But Marianna’s eyes were drawn to the other fighter in white shorts, looking like death as he swaggered into the cage.
She would absolutely put money on him. Her Tag. He looked downright villainous.
The blond Prince had morphed into a villain, and her heart thumped loudly.
Such a showman was Tag. He prowled around the cage, letting the crowd get a good look at the champion before he lowered the hood. When he was close, her blood sizzled as he turned to her and threw her a panty-melting wink.
