Jagger

by Dee Garcia

  Because what I felt for her was more real and magnetic than anything I’d ever felt before. To me, she was mine. When I held her, when I kissed her, touched her, fucked her…she was mine.

  Obviously, I was wrong.

  That’s why losing Vida hasn’t just fucked me up mentally. I’ve been struggling at work, too, unable to reconnect with the panty-melting stripper the ladies expect to see when they scramble to their seats before a show. My routines are half-assed, VIP is even worse. Betty has also threatened to fire me on one occasion.

  But that hasn’t kicked my ass into gear either.

  I’m just not feeling it and I couldn’t help but wonder if SIX is next to go down the drain too. It’s taken everything else from me, so why not, right?

  After another robotic routine I barely remember, the boys and I congregate in the dressing room before dispersing as usual. They’re all hyped, laughing and fucking around with not a care in the world. Meanwhile, I’m hanging off to the side, sipping my Red Bull in a daze. They’ve grown so accustomed to my new reserved self, none of them bother asking what’s up my ass anymore since I never share.

  So when they start out the door to head back into the main room without waiting to see if I’m tagging along, I’m surprised to see Sinclair close the door behind them and drop down on the couch beside me.

  Sighing, he leans onto his knees and claps his hands together. “Alright, man—give it up already. What's wrong You've been stomping around here like a ginormous fucking asshole for the last month. I haven’t pressed because I know what it’s like not wanting to share, but if you don’t get it together soon, Betty’s literally going to throw you out on the street.”

  "It's Vida,” I all but blurt, pinching the bridge of my nose at how fucking desperate I sound.

  “I figured as much, but what happened?”

  “A disaster I shoulda seen coming when I opened my big ass mouth.”

  He motions for me to continue, so I scrub a hand down my face and take a deep breath.

  “The short version? Her ex showed up unannounced after we had dinner, she didn’t seem too pleased to find him standing on the other side of the door, and when it became apparent he had no intention of leaving, I couldn’t stop myself from letting him know she wasn’t alone. I basically pissed all over her in the process and she didn’t quite care for it.”

  Sin sucks in a heap of air between his teeth and shakes his head. “I don’t even need to hear the rest. Bad call on your part, that’s for sure, especially when she was just your weekend piece. I’d understand if it were Ca—”

  “Vida isn't just a weekend piece,” I growl defensively.

  An amused grin spreads across his face as he holds his hands up in surrender. “My bad, man, my bad. Do tell though.”

  “There's nothing to tell—she’s just different.”

  “Different how?”

  “When I’m with her,” I start, but words quickly fail me, leaving me there with my mouth popped open like a little bitch.

  Jesus Christ, I’m pathetic.

  Sin apparently thinks so, too. His amusement grows in tenfold the longer I struggle to speak. “Well?”

  “I don't know, man, I can't explain this shit.”

  "Pussy's that good, huh?" he asks, waggling his eyebrows.

  “Shut the fuck up,” I grate.

  “Alright, alright,” he laughs, “so she’s not a weekend piece and you’re pussy whipped. What else?”

  I flip him the bird but, somehow, manage to form some sort of a sentence. “She’s just…more. So much more. Exactly what I want and need.”

  “Then why not go after her?”

  “I have, she doesn’t answer me,” I explain, my tone defeated and desperate as I drop my head into my hands.

  “I don’t mean calling her, Monroe. I mean physically going after her. Actions speak louder than words, bro. Women need to see that shit.”

  “I don’t want another fucking door in my face though.”

  “But do you want her?” he counters, snapping my gaze in his direction.

  “Obviously, fucktard.”

  “Then that’s a risk you’ll have to be willing to take. Think of it this way… If you go see her and she welcomes you with open arms, then good, that’s what you want, right? But if she shuts you down and tells you to fuck off, at least you’ll have a firm answer rather than being up in the air. Sometimes closure is better than nothing.”

  Sometimes closure is better than nothing…

  Of all the people to give me good advice, I never expected it to be Sin the emotionless dickhead.

  Talk about mindblown right now.

  “I don’t want fucking closure, I just want her,” I assert.

  “Then stop moping your ass around here and go get her. I’ll cover for you,” he assures me, clapping me on the back.

  So I left.

  With Sinclair’s help, I jump in the LC and speed through the streets to Vida’s apartment, feeling more pumped than I have in weeks.

  He’s right.

  Vida needs to see how badly I both need and want her in my life. She needs to see how sorry I am.

  All I can do now is come up with the best apology ever and hope she’ll even care.

  I’ve been face to face with her door for a good five minutes.

  Banging my fist against it frantically.

  Calling her name out in pleading.

  But she won’t answer it.

  Either she’s not home or she isn’t going to give me the time of day.

  Defeated doesn’t quite cover how I feel. Why I expected anything a different outcome? I don’t know. Maybe it’s the pretty picture Sin painted out for me during his Dr. Phil spiel.

  Fucking asshole.

  That’s unfair of me, I know. The man was trying to be a good friend and, in reality, I have no one to blame but myself.

  But I want to blame him, cursing him to hell and back as I turn away from the door with the intention to leave.

  Until I hear a little squeak from the floor board on the other side, that is.

  Yes.

  Yes, fuck yes.

  “I know you’re standing there, Vida.” My voice bounces off the stucco walls of the hallway. “Answer the door, please.”

  “Just go away, Jagger,” she says steadily.

  The fact that she’s standing right there gives me a sliver of hope. “No, not until you hear me out.”

  “I’m listening.” That’s all she offers, and while it isn’t exactly how I want this go, beggars can’t be choosers.

  “I just… I just want you to know that I’m sorry, okay? I know I’ve said it a million and five times already, but it’s the truth. I’m sorry for crossing the line. It was unwarranted and inappropriate, especially after our conversation prior to Carl showing up. I can do better, Vida, I swear to you.”

  Silence.

  And silence.

  And more silence.

  That little sliver of hope shreds into confetti before I can even grab hold of it tight. She isn’t going to budge, no matter what I say or how hard I try. She made it clear over the last month, but it’s crystal as fuck now.

  Sometime’s closure is better than nothing.

  Sin’s words ring out in my head and, although, I don’t want it, her resistance in this moment speaks deafening volumes. It has to be done regardless of how painful it might be.

  Of how much it’ll fuck me up until God knows when.

  Damn it.

  Pressing my forehead to the door, my hand curled in fist on its cool surface, I sigh. “I miss you, Vida. I miss you so fucking much. But I can’t keep doing this, to you or myself. I only came here tonight because I wanted you to see I was serious, that I was genuinely sorry.” It’s a struggle to get the next bit out, but on a deep breath, I force myself through it. “I don’t know that I’ll ever find someone like you, but I do know I’ll never forget you. ”

  And with that, I push myself away from the door and dart down the stairs wit
h a heavy heart. Said heavy heart completely splits in two mangled pieces by the time I slide into the LC and start up the engine.

  It’s over.

  It’s fucking over and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it. Now I have to live with the fact that I screwed it all up, that I lost a one of a kind—a once in a lifetime woman—to an immature, testosterone-fueled show of propriety.

  God, I’m stupid.

  So fucking stupid.

  Rage and self-loathing consume my emotions. I slam my fist down the steering wheel over and over again with alarming force before thrusting myself back into the seat one, two, three times.

  I’d have kept at it, too, if it wasn’t for my phone blaring in my pocket.

  Idiotically thinking it could it Vida, I fish it out with such a quick hand, it nearly fumbles from my grip onto the floor. The screen doesn’t reveal the name I want to see, of course not, because you know, that’s the type of shit you only see in movies.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey,” Calla says, voice soft, almost meek. “You got a minute?”

  “Yeah.” I reply testily, squeezing my eyes shut.

  “I, um—I realize this is extremely last minute, again, so if you can’t do it, I totally get it, but…would Mila be able to spend the night with you next weekend? You’re off right?”

  At her request, I sit up a little straighter. With the whole Vida situation bogging me down, I hadn’t dared to ask Calla about Mila sleeping over on a regular basis. I just couldn’t handle another potential blow.

  “Yeah, I’m off, and of course she can stay. You don’t have to ask me, Calla. I want her to stay. I told you that the last time...”

  “I know,” she agrees. “I guess I just wanted to make sure.”

  “Is everything okay?” I hedge.

  “It’s fine, everything is more than fine. I just um—I’m going on a date with this guy I recently started seeing, and he asked me to spend the night.”

  I cringe, but it’s not because she’s dating other people. She has been since she left me. I’m cringing because, not too long ago, that was me.

  And it’s yet another reminder that I lost it.

  “Jag?” That’s Paulie as he pokes his dark head into the dressing room the following night.

  Taking another sip of my Red Bull, I tip my chin from the couch not so far away in response, prompting him to step inside. He shuts the door behind himself, drowning out the blaring sounds of Pretty Ricky from one of Ronin’s routines.

  “Sin needs your help in VIP. There’s like six of them in there,” he explains, looking extremely fucking uncomfortable considering he knows what my answer will be.

  “Seriously?” I bark and he nods thoughtfully.

  Goddamn it.

  After my break up with Vida…I couldn’t do it.

  I didn’t want to.

  I didn’t want to because now I understood—in great fucking detail—why Betty didn’t want us fucking in there. Not only was this place not licensed for that, it could also make shit very complicated should we decide to get involved with a client. Still, we did, and up until now it’d been easy breezy for all of us.

  All good things must come to an end though.

  So while I’m barely fighting the aftershocks of such chaos, the boys cover for me on the regular, even if they don’t know why. Betty hasn’t noticed, but I know it’s only a matter of time before she catches on.

  I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t already. That woman—as batshit crazy as she is—is typically so in tune with everyone and everything.

  And when she finds out, she might fire me for real this time.

  With a begrudging groan, I shoot from my seat and toss my can into the trash, following Paulie out of the room.

  He glances over at me as we fall into step and claps me on the shoulder, a thoughtful smile hitching one corner of his mouth. “I’d do it but he says they keep asking for you.”

  That’s his story and I accept it because, honestly, it’s not his fault. These chicks might’ve been here to see us, but they call the shots in VIP. They ask, we deliver, and if they’re adamant for me to join in, Sinclair is going to make sure my ass comes into that room, whether they have to drag me in there or not.

  Stepping out from the behind the curtain, we wade through the slight mayhem of the main room. It’s packed but my vision tunnels on the clear path leading to VIP. I brush past any and every hand reaching out for me, ignore the sounds of my name being called. I just want to get this over with and take my ass home.

  The faster, the fucking better.

  At the mouth of the hallway, Paulie and I fist bump before heading our separate ways. Just being in this corridor holds memories I don’t want to think about.

  But I push them aside and curl a hand around the knob, throwing the door open. I expect to see Sin huddled around six rowdy women as per Paulie’s story.

  But what I find awaiting me is anything but.

  “Vida,” I rasp.

  Idly, I hear the door shut behind me as I stand there, motionless, shocked to absolute shit. My feet root to the floor beneath me as I take her in. I can’t even possibly tell you what she’s wearing because I’m convinced this is some kind of fucked up nightmare I’m about to wake up from any minute now.

  “Hi.” She smiles, running a nervous hand through her hair.

  “What are you doing here?” I blurt, expecting to blink her away.

  “To see you,” she answers.

  “Why?”

  “Because… Because I don’t want to lose you.” Her voice is so hushed I would’ve missed it had I not been watching her.

  “What did you just say?”

  “I-I don’t want to lose you.”

  Speechless. I’m speechless. Unsure of what the fuck to do. Am I supposed to just believe her? Am I supposed to just fucking forget this shitstorm between us ever happened?

  “Don’t play, girl. Are you serious?” My chest heaves in anticipation, heart jackhammering thunderously.

  Vida nods, wringing her fingers together. “Very. More so than I realized I would when I let you walk away last night. I feel so stupid, so utterly terrible for putting us both through what’s clearly been hell. If it’s too late now, I have no choice but to understand. But I just wanted you to know that—”

  That’s. It.

  That’s all I need.

  I’m on, wrapping her in my arms and pulling her into my lap before she take a full breath. And as instantaneous as ever, that fire that burns only in her presence is there, sparking my blood anew.

  Stronger than ever before.

  Thrusting a hand into her hair, I pull her close, relishing the feel of her in my grasp. Reveling in her scent. “Jesus Christ, Vida, you had me out of my right mind.”

  “I know, I’m so sorry,” she grates in a trembling tone.

  “Do you though? I was a mess, woman, all because of you. I literally feel like I went to hell and back. I was losing my shit. What have you done to me?”

  “Whatever you did to me.” It’s the same answer she gave me the first time I asked her that all those nights ago. “I was miserable, too, ‘ya know?”

  “So why do this then?” I squeeze her tighter. “Why? I could’ve done without the insanity.”

  “Blame my pride.” She shrugs. “I’m stubborn and hard-headed, set in my ways. I can hold a grudge for eternity and, when I’m angry, I just want to stay angry. It’s easier than feeling pain, than feeling grief, so I kept telling myself I was angry with you even though I wasn’t angry at anyone but myself for doing this to us. Your messages broke me, day in and day out. Your voicemails too. All I wanted to do was call you back, tell you everything was okay, that we were okay, but by that point I’d let it go on so long, I figured it’d be better for both of us if I just let it be.”

  “What changed your mind?” I question, searching the depths of those green orbs.

  “What you said last night. Knowing I’d never hear from you again, that I�
��d never see you again. It was the slap of reality I needed. I’m never going to find this with anyone else, Jag. It’s what you read about in books, what you see on TV and in the movies. I’m not letting it go, not letting you go. As crazy-fast as this is, I wanna do crazy-fast with you.”

  I grin like a fucking love-sick lunatic, already tasting her on tongue. “Well, don’t get used to it, ‘cause we’re about to slow things down, baby. I wanna savor this.”

  And I would—everyday, without question, without borders.

  Her eyes.

  Her lips.

  Her tight little body that was made for me.

  Her fucking everything.

  Mine. For real this time.

  And hopefully one day, forever.

  The End

  About Dee

  Self-published author Dee Garcia was born in Miami, Florida. A voracious fan of romance novels and a long time lover of the written word, her mission is to craft unique, compelling stories that will give her readers a place to briefly escape the monotony of everyday reality. With fierce, headstrong heroine’s and swoon-worthy, possessive Alpha males weaved into her thrilling tales, Dee hopes to leave her mark on the Indie world, one decadent plot twist at a time.

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  Also by Dee

  • Volatile Obsessions (Dark Romance - Standalone)

  • Snare (Zombie apocalypse/Dystopian - Novella)

  • The Scarsi Family Series (Mafia)

  X-394 (Book One)

  Dead or Alive Part 1 (Book Two)

  • The Bloodshed Duet (MMA fighter)

  I Am Lioness (Book One)

  Hear Me Roar (Book Two)

  ——————

  Co-writes:

  • The Saint Cecilia Slayings Serial

  (Dark Erotic Romance/Crime Thriller)