Jagger

by S. Nelson

  Threat aside, I understood the man’s hatred toward me, but that didn’t give him the right to pull up on me right out in the open. If he wanted to exact his revenge against me, he needed to step inside the ring in an attempt to right the so-called wrong I’d done him.

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?” I yelled, releasing Kena’s hand and throwing my body toward him, catching him off guard, and in the process knocking the gun from his hand. There was no reasoning with the guy and I knew it, making a snap decision in order to spare not only my life but everyone else present. Mainly the two women behind me.

  Snake was part of the Savage Reapers. Even if he didn’t have a beef with me for accidentally killing his brother, his hatred toward our club would be enough of a reason to pull the trigger, possibly killing anyone else who got in the way.

  I heard a few screams behind me, and I was sure one of them came from Braylen. Not having enough time to turn around and explain, I followed Snake to the ground, landing on top of him to break my fall. My fist connected with his face before he had time to react, blood spurting from his nose and mouth and covering my shirt. But I didn’t care. Not only had I probably blown any shot I had of seeing Kena again, I was enraged this bastard had the balls to pull a gun on me. He knew the dangers of the ring as well as I did; he couldn’t possibly have thought I killed his brother on purpose. Either way, I showed him I wasn’t gonna tolerate being threatened. Add in the fact he was part of our most hated enemy and my aggression poured from me with ease, beating the man unconscious. He never had a chance, which was why he’d brought his weapon with him in the first place.

  Two bouncers rushed outside in the midst of the commotion, and luckily for Snake they pulled me away before I killed him. It would have been another accident, so to speak, although I wouldn’t have let his death eat at me like his brother’s did.

  Staggering to my feet, I ran my bloodied hand through my disheveled hair, trying my best to catch my breath. Once security realized I’d calmed down, they approached the limp body lying on the sidewalk, grabbing the fallen weapon before tucking their hands under his arms and dragging him around the corner, away from any spectators.

  Turning around, I assumed I’d be met with the absence of Kena and her sister, but they were still there, staring at me with matching looks of horror. Braylen more so than Kena.

  Taking a tentative step forward, I threw my hands up in surrender, showing them no more threat was present. “Are you okay?” I asked to no one in particular, although my question should have been poised directly to Kena. She looked down at the ground as soon as I took another step closer, her shoulders trembling in fear.

  Regret shrouded me that she had to witness what just happened, but I didn’t have another choice, unless she wanted to see my brains strewn all over the sidewalk. Call me crazy, but I thought that would have been more disturbing.

  Braylen stepped in front of her sister, shielding her entirely from me as I approached. “Don’t take another step,” she warned. When I stopped, she came at me, albeit verbally. “What the hell was that, Jagger? What are you into? Did you really kill someone? Are you part of a gang?” She peppered me with question after question, her ranting making me mentally dizzy. Never allowing me a chance to respond or explain, she seized Kena’s arm and dragged her away. “Don’t contact her again or else,” she threatened, both of them disappearing around the corner before I could even think to stop them.

  I reached for my phone to text her when all of a sudden it rang, the shrill sound slicing through the air and distracting me enough to answer it.

  “Yeah,” I shouted, clutching the cell to my ear so tight my lobe started throbbing. I’d welcomed the pain.

  “Hey, man,” Stone chastised. “What the hell’s up your ass?” I opened my mouth to answer when he cut me off. “Doesn’t matter. Get to the clubhouse. Now. We’re making a plan tonight.” Silence greeted me on the other end as he hung up.

  Arriving at the compound, I parked my bike and rushed inside to find out what the hell was goin’ on. I had a feeling, but I wanted to hear it from our leader’s mouth. Throwing my cell on the table outside Chambers, I rounded the table and took my seat. Hawke, Ryder and Zip strode in behind me, Trigger and Cutter following after them. Marek, Stone, Breck and Tripp were already seated. Once everyone was prepared to start, Marek uttered four words which would change the course of our night completely.

  “We’re pickin’ him up.” Resting against the worn leather of his seat, he thrummed his fingers on the tabletop, the rhythm he created hypnotic. A calm descended over our prez, and I knew why. Finally, after what seemed to be forever, he was gonna seek the justice he needed to avenge what had happened to his wife. Hopefully after the deed was done, they could both start to heal and move on.

  The need to desecrate the man who’d violated Sully ran deep in my veins. Adrenaline coursed through me in waves and I prayed Marek would allow me to be part of Yanez’s death in some way, although I’d never request such a detail. He tolerated me, his harsh demeanor toward me lessening each time we interacted, but I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize our “progress.”

  “Where?” Stone asked, worry etching deep into the lines of his face. He had more to lose than most of us, Addy and his daughter waiting for him at home. I couldn’t even imagine how he felt, realizing he was walking into an unpredictable situation. But I was sure Marek wouldn’t send us into enemy territory. Not intentionally, at least.

  “Reynosa,” he answered, expelling a deep breath.

  “Fuckin’ Mexico!” Trigger shouted, lowering his voice once he saw the glare on Marek’s face.

  “Yeah, fuckin’ Mexico,” he yelled back. “Carrillo is doin’ me a favor by handing Yanez over so we can finish him off. He’s been holding him for the past four days, delivering his own brand of justice for going against the cartel.” He took a moment to compose himself. “He said if we want him, we have to come and collect him. Obviously, I agreed.”

  Leaning forward and resting his arms on the table, he laid out the carefully orchestrated plan. “Stone, Tripp, Ryder and I are takin’ the cage.” Pointing at Cutter, he said, “You take Trigger and Breck to the safe house and get set up.” Turning his head toward Zip and Hawke, who were sitting side by side, he instructed, “You two are gonna stay behind and man the compound. No one knows about the trip, so you shouldn’t have an issue with any surprise attacks. But just in case, I put a call in to our Laredo chapter. Salzar is bringing ten of his best guys with him. They’ll be here tomorrow night.”

  A solemn air fell all around us, thoughts of the assigned duties driving home the severity of the upcoming event. And by event, I meant the torture and death of Rico Yanez.

  Marek had stopped talking to the group at large, instead having his own sidebar with his VP. It appeared everyone had their orders—everyone but me, that was. Chancing an argument, or the silent treatment, I interrupted Marek and Stone.

  “Prez,” I called out, counting my heartbeats until he looked my way. “What do you want me to do?” I held my breath in anticipation. He could dismiss me altogether, or acknowledge me and treat me as a rightful part of this club, even though I wasn’t fully patched in.

  Stone nudged his friend with his arm, leaning in and whispering into his ear. Marek nodded before turning his attention back on me.

  “You’ll go to the safe house. We need someone to clean up, after all.” A cocky grin tilted his lips, and I realized he was giving me a shit job. But I’d take it. When I disposed of Yanez, I’d gain my own sense of closure over what had happened to Sully, burying the bastard where no one would ever find his body—or what was left of it.

  “When do we leave?” Trigger asked, smoothing his straying hairs back into place.

  “We leave first thing tomorrow. You guys will head to the house later on. So get as much rest as you can because we have a long couple days ahead of us.” Striking the gavel against the wood signified our meeting had come to an abrupt end. The so
und boomed, slicing through hesitation and tension. Everyone knew what they had to do, and because we were loyal to our leader, we all did as asked without a second thought.

  With everything else going on, I barely had enough mental energy to deal with the issue with Kena. Thinking I’d completely blown my shot with her, I threw all caution to the wind and decided I didn’t have anything to lose. It’d been a couple hours since the incident at Rustic, and there was a good chance she’d turned in for the evening, but I decided to contact her anyway.

  Jagger: Are you awake?

  I ventured home after our big meeting, but instead of passing out for the evening, I stayed awake in the hopes I’d get the opportunity to explain myself to Kena. All different excuses ran through my mind, but none of them were any good. Some were the truth, some elaborations on fact, but all were clearly not sufficient enough to warrant her ever giving me another chance.

  An hour passed.

  Then another.

  And another.

  As I sprawled across my bed, phone clutched tightly in hand, my eyes drifted close. The faint light in my bedroom slowly becoming dimmer, until there was nothing left except blackness. A few more minutes and I would’ve been out cold, but the alert from an incoming message jolted me back awake. I swung my hand up so fast to check that the cell slipped from my fingers and plonked me right in the face. Curses flew from my lips while I clutched the bridge of my nose, massaging away the quick bite of pain. When I finally swiped the screen, I saw a response from Kena. Wasting no time, I checked her message.

  Kena: I don’t want you to contact me anymore.

  Jagger: You don’t? Or Braylen doesn’t?

  Kena: Both.

  I had to convince her to let me fully explain myself, but I sure as hell didn’t want to do it over text. I wanted to do it in person, but that wouldn’t be for another few days at least, depending on how long Marek was gonna keep me at the safe house.

  Jagger: I have to go away for a few days, but when I get back can we please meet up? I need to explain what happened. And if you don’t want to see me ever again after that, then I won’t bother you. But please just give me a chance to tell you my side.

  Breathing had quickly become difficult. My palms started to sweat the longer I waited for her to respond. Having no clue why it meant so much to me to have Kena hear my excuses threw me into instant aggravation. I hated feeling defensive, like I had to justify my life to someone, but I also knew she was different. I couldn’t explain it, though; I just . . . felt it. Deep inside.

  A text popped up, and with it hope that she’d give me an opportunity to right what she thought was a wrong.

  Kena: Kevin said you’re part of an illegal biker gang. Is that true?

  Fuckin’ Kevin.

  Jagger: Yes and no. Yes, I’m part of a biker club. Not gang. And no, it is not illegal.

  May as well disclose everything.

  Jagger: Not anymore.

  The detail about finishing off Yanez I’d keep to myself. Residual tactics had to be dealt with, but the Knights were more legit than not.

  Twenty excruciating minutes passed before my cell dinged again. I really should have put the issue on the back burner until I was able to give her my full and undivided attention, but the need to explain weighed heavy on me.

  Kena: I don’t know.

  Jagger: You don’t know what?

  Kena: If I should see you again.

  I hated that I couldn’t talk to her, that she couldn’t hear the sincerity in my voice when I explained I would never hurt her. That I didn’t want to scare her. I just wanted one more chance. My fingers slid over the keys when a thought popped to life.

  Jagger: Can I call you?

  Kena: Did you forget I can’t speak?

  Jagger: No, but I have an idea.

  Kena

  Unease settled around me while I curled up in the corner of the couch. Phone clasped in hand, I stared at the screen, re-reading Jagger’s texts. There wasn’t a lot of information in them, but for some reason the strange need to allow him to explain possessed me. Plus curiosity pushed me to hear his side of the events.

  Danger had never been a friend of mine. Nor was drama. I stayed tucked away in my own little bubble, never venturing too far outside my comfort zone. Then one day I allowed Braylen to convince me to go to an abandoned warehouse where men would pummel each other for money. And it was at that match that Jagger had come to my rescue. Fighting whatever feelings he’d evoked within me, I’d never retracted my sister’s invite for him to meet us at Rustic.

  Even now, I still had this pull toward him. My head told me to run far, far away from the sexy, dangerous fighter, but my heart told me to take a chance and hear him out.

  Damn emotions.

  He wanted to call me. I had no idea what he thought he’d achieve by doing so, but again, I was intrigued as to what would happen. The one thing I was positive about was that his voice would surely undo me, destroying any uncertainties I had toward giving him another chance. The rasp in his tone did strange things to me, and I knew if I heard him on the other end of the line that I’d cave and give in to whatever he asked of me.

  Before I typed my reply, my mind wandered to Braylen and how upset she’d seemed on the ride home. She’d ranted all the way back to our house about how I’d better never see “that lunatic” again. She confessed her initial judgment of him had been misconceived, and I lost count how many times she apologized for pushing me toward going out with him. Seeing someone pull a gun so close to where we were standing shocked and terrified her, as it did to me. But whereas she closed the door on Jagger altogether, I left it open just a crack. I wasn’t ready to shut him out completely. Not just yet. Not until I’d at least heard what he wanted to tell me.

  Making sure my door was shut, I walked back to my bed, crawled on top and rested against the headboard, my phone staring at me like it held the answer to some great riddle.

  Blowing errant strands of hair away from my face, I chose two letters which just might change my world as I knew it.

  Kena: Ok.

  A few seconds passed before my phone rang. I had no idea how to lower the volume, seeing as how no one had ever called me. For obvious reasons. But no mind; I swiped the Answer button and held the device to my ear.

  Then waited.

  “Kena, thank you so much for taking my call,” he said breathlessly. Even if my voice had worked, I wouldn’t have been able to speak right then, nerves strangling my thoughts, let alone any words I would have been able to form in my throat. “I know you can’t answer me in the traditional way, so I thought if I asked you a yes or no question, you could tap one of the buttons as your response. One tap for yes and two for no. Can you do that? Does that make sense?”

  I waited a heartbeat before hitting a key one time. I swore I heard the smile in his voice when he spoke again.

  “Good. That’s good,” he affirmed, his deep breaths helping to soothe my wayward nerves. He had no idea what he did to me. Even now, he had no clue that my heart raced inside my chest, that my breathing had become erratic at hearing the growl in his tone. My mind raced with images of him, picturing him sitting next to me at the bar, the way his touch jolted me when he brushed his fingers over mine, or when he clasped my hand in his. How warm I’d felt from the contact.

  “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am that you had to see that. I’m sure you were scared, and I hate that I put you in that position.” He sounded sincere, and I couldn’t help but feel as if I should’ve been the one comforting him in some way. “Anyway, I wanted to know if I could see you again when I get back in town. Shouldn’t be any more than a week, at most. Please let me apologize in person, Kena. Then, if you never want to see me again, I won’t bother you. I promise.”

  Silence made the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. Contemplating his request, I mentally weighed the pros and cons, the cons vastly outweighing the pros. Something dangerous surrounded Jagger, and the night’s eve
nts only proved my suspicions. He belonged to a biker gang—sorry, “club.” Although I had no idea what the difference was. Kevin told me they were into some illegal shit, but wouldn’t explain any further. Maybe he didn’t know, or maybe he’d tried to spare me the gory details. Either way, he had warned me away from the likes of Jagger, promising nothing good would come from seeing him again. Kevin told me they’d gone to the same high school, and while he wasn’t friends with him, per se, he told me Jagger was always getting into fights, trouble following him all the time. Then there was the little fact that a scary-looking man had tried to shoot him, out in the open, without a care in the world, screaming that Jagger had killed his brother.

  Red flags littered my internal struggle, shrouding me in waves of uneasy doubt. And even though I shouldn’t have ever granted his request to call me, I had. For some inexplicable reason. And because confusion over my lack of sense baffled me, I decided to give in to him once again, agreeing to see him so he could apologize in person.

  Only then would I know how I wanted to proceed.

  My forefinger hovered over a key, prepared to answer his question. It was a simple response but one which eluded me. His voice cut through the line again, startling me before I’d made my decision.

  “Please,” he begged. “Can I see you again? To explain?” The voice drifting through my ear was poignant. Gentle. Convincing.

  Without hesitation, I pushed a random number key.

  One time.

  Yes.

  A quick exhale of relief barreled down the line. “You won’t regret it. I promise. I’ll text you in a few days and you can decide where you want to meet. Good night, Kena,” he said before disconnecting the call. He hurried off, but I couldn’t say I blamed him, probably afraid I would change my mind if given more time to think about it. And while I appreciated he didn’t keep me on the phone, I hated the absence of his voice.

  Lying in bed, I stared off into the darkness and prayed I’d just made the right choice. Although I was sure Braylen would tell me otherwise.