by Loren, Celia
She knew Jagger had gotten in with the wrong crowd back in high school. He'd made excuses, but she wasn’t oblivious. She knew that the nights they didn’t spend together were nights he was out there risking his life. She didn’t know what he had gotten involved in, but she knew it wasn’t good. At that time, all that mattered to her was that they were together. Now, that meant nothing. Now, it was her job to find him and take him down.
Britton graduated from Quantico with full intentions of going straight after Jagger Stromm and his crew of bikers. She knew too much about them, having focused her thesis on his group, the Harbingers of Sorrow. She hated that name. It made her teeth grind together, her fingers stiffen, but most of all, it made her heart ache. She leaned her head back, recalling her return to Las Vegas.
College was her way out. After the accident, her only goal was to get out of Nevada and never look back. Still, she couldn’t help but want revenge on the man who practically left her to die. When the FBI offered her a choice of any branch in the country, she could do nothing but request the town she grew up in. She knew he was still there. She knew a return would be the only way to face him again.
Britton worked hard, never giving up on a case until it was solved. After a year and a half with the FBI, her boss had called her into his office.
“Special Agent Howard, you wanted to see me?”
“Britton, you can call me David.”
“Yes, sir.”
He snickered as he gestured for her to take a seat.
“I have something for you.” He threw a file onto the desk in front of her. A picture was stapled to the top. His picture. Britton froze. This is what she had wanted since her decision to pursue a career in law enforcement, but now that it was literally staring her in the face, she couldn’t take the leap.
“I can’t.”
“You will.”
“Sir, I know this man.”
“I know you know him. I read your thesis paper.”
“No, I personally know him.”
“Britton, I’ve done my research. I know about you. I know about your relationship. I think we can use it to our advantage. I want you to go undercover.”
“I’ve never been undercover.”
“I think this is the perfect case for you to start with. You already know him, so just be yourself before you joined the bureau.”
“I… I…” she stumbled. Words refused to leave her lips. She couldn’t be herself before the FBI. She was no one before the FBI. Jagger left her as a shell of a person. She was lost without him. It wasn’t until joining the FBI that she had found some semblance of an idea of the woman she could become away from her family, and away from him. Now she was being asked to go back to that life. It was all she'd wanted for so long, but now, faced with the reality for the first time in so many years, she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“Agent Ramirez, I’m not asking you. You start tomorrow. You have an interview with the Halanu Star Casino at 10:00 a.m. Don’t be late, and make sure you get the job.”
“Yes, sir.”
She was startled out of her daydream by her alarm clock screaming from the bedroom. It was 7:00 a.m. and she had a meeting in two hours with her boss from the casino. She had no idea what it could be about. She had been nothing but a perfect employee for the past eighteen months. Everyone loved her. She was punctual, diligent, never called out sick, and often had regulars come in just to sit at her table. There was no way they could fire her. There was no way she had spent all that time working this case to fall short and be thrown out. There was no way.
A thought crossed her mind. What if she was getting a promotion? It could be just the promotion she needed. Britton knew that she would have no chance of running into Jagger until she was promoted to the high roller’s room. Her ex-boyfriend, the love of her past life, was through those giant golden doors, and every night was just another night he got away from her.
She walked into the empty casino and moved swiftly to Larry’s office. She spent enough time around men to know how to get what she wanted, and the outfit she had donned would do exactly that. Preceded by a small knock, she cautiously opened the door. Larry smiled as she walked in, but was suddenly taken aback. He always thought Britton was gorgeous, but he had only seen her in the casino uniform: black pants, a button up shirt, vest, and a bow tie. He couldn’t help but hold his breath as she fully walked into his office. This woman had a body.
She was wearing deep purple suede heels to contrast her tight white dress. Britton had thought the white dress would make her appear innocent, like she didn’t have a strategy that led beyond this casino. Larry was too focused on the curves of her hips. He immediately pictured himself grabbing them in the throws of passion. His eyes traveled down. Her dress was short, leaving little to the imagination. Her legs were tanned and muscular. He was completely lost in his own fantasy to remember why he'd asked her into his office.
“Larry, are you okay?”
“Yes, of course, sorry. Wow, Britton, you look gorgeous.”
“Oh, this old thing?” She couldn’t believe she'd just said that. What kind of a line was that? She was obviously nervous.
“Well, I don’t want to hold you up, but a few of our regulars have taken a liking to you. It’s been suggested that you move into a dealer position in the high roller’s room to bring more regulars to the higher table minimums. Would that be something you’d be interested in?”
Her heart stopped. It was happening. The case she had been working on for half her career was finally coming to a point. She was going to take down the bad guy. She was going to get her revenge on Jagger Stromm.
“Wow, absolutely, Larry. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. You won't regret it.”
“I’m sure I won’t. You’re welcome to pick your own wardrobe, but may I suggest you stick to this sort of thing?” He tries to conceal his excitement as he motions to her form-fitting frock.
“Yes, that’s great. Again, I really appreciate this.”
Britton could barely contain herself as she shook Larry’s hand and ran out of the casino. She hadn’t felt that great in years. She couldn’t stop the corners of her lips from rising. She was smiling. She was actually smiling. She was going to see Jagger again. Britton paused. Was she happy to that she would finally be able to take him down, or was it because she missed him. At that moment, she had no idea. The thought terrified her.
“David,” she yelled into her phone. “I got the promotion. I’m moving into the high roller’s room.”
“Well done, Britton. Well done. I am so proud of you.”
She loved to hear those words. If her first goal in life was to catch Jagger Stromm, her second was to make David Howard proud. He was the first person to ever tell her he was proud of her. It felt childish at first, but she found herself craving his acceptance, craving his pride. And today, he was proud of her. He continued.
“How shall we celebrate?”
“I’m hungry. How about brunch?”
“The usual?”
“Perfect.”
Britton’s stomach growled. Her stress was subsiding. She had been so nervous about her first undercover case, but now it was all falling into place. She didn’t realize how happy she could be that her body was asking for food. She jumped in the car and headed to meet her boss at their favorite brunch café.
David was already seated when she walked up. He was beaming. She reached the table, and he stood up to greet her. They ordered and began their meal. Food never tasted so good.
“I got you something.”
“What do you mean?”
“I got you a gift to congratulate you.”
“David, you did not have to do that.”
He pulled a box out of his suit coat jacket and handed it to her. She lifted the lid and gasped. He had gotten her jewelry. It was a beautiful white gold bracelet with a single charm. It was a casino chip.
“I thought it would be a fun way to remember your firs
t undercover case.”
“David, this is too much.”
“It’s not…”
David smiled and placed his hand on top of Britton’s. Her heart jumped. She quickly raised her eyes to his, and for the first time, she actually saw him. He was a good-looking man, maybe ten years older than her. His hair was light, with specks of gray. His smile was real, and it reached his bright blue eyes. His hands were strong but gentle, and she felt heat radiating under his touch. How had she not seen this before? How blind was she?
The Bureau would never allow it, so he would have never acted on it, but this man cared for her, and he cared more deeply than she had realized. For the first time, she briefly pictured herself with a man other than Jagger. She tensed, feeling a sensation that she had forgotten. At that moment, she found confidence. She would be able to face Jagger, and she would be able to beat him. No longer would he have this hold on her. After finding closure, she would be free to be with other men, to move on with her life, to love again.
They finished brunch and said their goodbyes. David politely outstretched his hand, and Britton returned the farewell. They smiled at each other, and Britton knew what he was thinking. She knew what he was wishing. She didn’t know it was possible for anyone else to look at her that way. It felt wonderful.
CHAPTER THREE
Britton ran through the line of FBI high fives at work as everyone wished her luck. She was leaving the office early to get ready for her new job as a dealer in the high roller room. Tonight she could possibly see Jagger. What would she do? She toyed with all the possibilities. Would she ignore him? Would she pretend not to recognize him? Would she not recognize him? How much might he have changed in ten years? Would he come up to her first? She was so nervous.
She undressed and turned on the shower. As she was about to step into the tub, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She had no idea where this night would lead, and needed to do a quick assessment. Her body had definitely changed since he had last seen her. Her hips were wider and her chest had filled out. She was a woman. Britton placed her hand on her stomach, imagining that it wasn’t her own. She yearned for the touch of another, and now she could admit it.
After Jagger, there had been a few men she had used to try and rid her memory of him, but with no success. After awhile, she gave up. She didn’t want a companion. She wanted to be alone, but the last few days, things have felt different. She imagined David’s hand on hers. She felt that spark shoot through her body. Her hand traveled up, between her rising breasts, and landed on the top of her chest, cupping the base of her neck. She wasn’t able to touch herself. It scared her. This scared her. All of a sudden, her mood completely changed. She found herself fearing him again. She needed to gain control. She couldn’t walk into that room and show this weakness. She needed to be strong, stronger than him. She needed to be stronger than Jagger.
The time to leave her house was rapidly approaching as she opened her closet door. Which dress would she wear? Which would make him want to tell her all his dirty little secrets? She slid her clothing to one side and noticed a flash of red, draping from the final hanger. That was the dress he had bought her. She had forgotten she still had it. Why had she held onto it for so long? She knew it could never fit her; her body was completely different than it was in her teenage years. Still the urge to try it on could not be denied.
Britton slipped off her robe and slowly stepped a single leg into the dress. She remembered the feeling of this fabric. It quickly brought back the painful memories of that night. She wanted to take it off. She wished she hadn’t seen the dress. Her breathing hastened, and she threw the dress across the room. Her legs gave out from under her and she fell to the floor. “No!” She screamed at herself. She couldn’t do this. Not today. Today she had to be resilient.
Now she had to wear the dress. It would prove to him that she had moved on; that she had no memories of him haunting her. She confidently stepped in and let the fabric cling to her body. She looked at herself in the mirror. To her surprise, she filled the dress out quite nicely. She let her mahogany splashed hair fall from its clipped confines. She was ready.
Britton pulled up to Halanu Star Casino, her home for the past year and a half. She had a few minutes to spare, so she grabbed the file she had spent the last year and a half memorizing.
Jagger Stromm
Twenty-eight years old
President of the outlaw motorcycle club, Harbingers of Sorrow
Suspected of drug trafficking and possible money laundering
Spends evenings at the Halunu Star Casino, high roller’s room
That was all she needed to read. She was ready. Britton stepped out of her car and confidently made her way to the employee entrance of the high roller’s room. She couldn’t have imagined the beauty and elegance of this place. She had seen pictures, but they didn’t come close to the grandeur she was witnessing before her eyes. This is where she would spend the remainder of her time undercover. She shook at the thought that, in a few hours, she might come face to face with the man who left her to die on the side of the road.
She was stationed at the blackjack table. She loved blackjack. Growing up, her siblings and her would play by flashlight when they were supposed to be sleeping. They would place obscenely high fake bets, fantasizing that they were a wealthy family of royalty, having nothing to do but hang out in all the fancy hotels in Vegas, and winning a ton of money.
She briefly thought about her siblings. They didn’t know she had been back for three years. When she left so long ago, she knew she was abandoning them. She had to make a decision, a choice: them or her. She chose herself, and it’s a choice she'd struggled with every day. That’s why she couldn’t reach out to them now that she was back. Britton also knew if she found them, it would mean that they didn’t make it out—knowing for sure that they were still stuck in the hell they grew up in would be too much. She wanted better for them, and for her sanity she had to believe that they all left Nevada.
Time slowly ticked by, though the high-roller room was more exciting and filled with the tension of serious money at stake; she was waiting for one specific person to enter. Just as she began to think she'd wasted her dress, her head started to spin as the scent of his cologne filled the room. She searched the faces, trying to find him, but she couldn’t. That scent took her back ten years. She was straddling him. She was biting his neck. It was the same scent. It had to be him. Then, the crowd of guests seemed to part as he walked toward her.
CHAPTER FOUR
Jagger Stromm didn’t want to go out that night. He had a strange feeling that something was off. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but being someone in the seat of such power, he was accustomed to these feelings of clairvoyance. After all, it was his ability to stay three steps ahead that kept him at the top.
He peered around his bedroom. He had kept the blinds drawn all day. Business from the night before needed his attending to and he didn’t end up stumbling in until 10 a.m. There was a woman in his bed. He didn’t know her name. He didn’t care. He didn’t actually remember if he had slept with her or not. He shook her. She didn’t wake up. He shook her again, more violently this time. She moaned and rolled over, but seemed to have no intention of waking up.
She was pretty: blonde, short hair, thin, and full breasts. He liked breasts. He liked to grab them, and pull them, and bite them. He felt himself growing, ready to take this woman as she slept, but decided against it. This time. Although he was physically attracted to her, he felt nothing. He never felt anything. He had grown too comfortable turning his emotions off. In his business, he couldn’t afford to care about people outside of his club. They were his family, the only ones who mattered. Everyone else was trash.
He decided he couldn’t stay in his house while this woman was taking over his bed. He snuck out of the bedroom and into the vast living room. Jagger stood in the window, baring his nakedness and gazing at a patch of trees near his house silhouetting in t
he moonlight. No one could see in, and there were no other houses for miles. Still, if they came wandering by, he’d be happy to show them. He was proud of his body. He was proud of the man he had become, and he wasn’t planning on hiding that from anyone.
He found his way to the casino, still feeling on edge. Something big was going to happen; he could feel it. As per usual, when he entered into a room, people stared. He was, by any account, a striking man; his disheveled hair hung around his high cheekbones and strong, chiseled chin. He had just a hint of stubble, deciding not to shave that evening, for fear that the sound of his razor would awaken the blonde woman, and he would be forced into an awkward conversation.
He looked around the room, contemplating his first table. Then he noticed her out of the corner of his eye, a dealer he'd never seen before. She was beautiful—her long, shining hair, olive skin, almond shaped eyes, and that blood red dress. There was something familiar about her, something that he was drawn to. He caught her gaze and their eyes locked. Britton. It was Britton. How did she find him here?
