Chapter 23
Gangsta’s Paradise
Jagger’s stuck to my left side like glue, and Asher has his arm slung over my shoulders as we wind through oversized shipping containers down at some sort of docklands.
I have a gun strapped to my thigh that the boys insisted I learn how to use.
But even with that and their protection surrounding me, I feel uneasy.
“Is it safe to be out in public?” I whisper, checking over my shoulder as we slip through two huge red containers to an open space inside a warehouse, the walls lined with seats like a stadium filled with emblem-wearing bikers.
Jagger pulls me a little closer to his side. “I know it looks shady, but I own this place, and security is at a premium tonight. Any sign of Serpents or your family, we’ll know.”
Jagger’s words don’t ease the churning. The last time we left the house, I had a front-row seat to a brutal car chase I’m still having nightmares about. I don’t need a repeat.
Asher smiles at me, clutching my hand a little tighter. “This fight is important to Cruz. We can’t miss it, and we can’t leave you alone.”
We take the rickety stairs up to the top row of seats in a section roped off by security.
“You could have left me alone. A night to myself sounds like a dream, a bath and a bottle of wine maybe.” I smirk, knowing even the idea is going to piss Jagger off. But right now, his snippy attitude is getting to me, so why not get a little entertainment where I can.
Asher kisses my cheek. “You can have a bath and a bottle of wine when we’re around. That sounds like a fine night in. I might join you next time.”
My glare narrows on Asher. “Then it wouldn’t be a night alone, asshole.”
His cheeky grin has me softening. “It would be more fun, and you know it.”
I shake my head and let out a heavy sigh.
I’m sure it would be all kinds of dirty fun, but right now, when this is all too much, I need my space.
I have been locked up with the three of them too long.
And after the call from my brother two days ago, I’m on edge even more than I would normally be.
He said he would come for me in two days, and I believe him.
A couple of men in dark suits wait by a red velvet rope, guns visible in a way that sends a shiver down my spine. “Evening, boss.” The larger one of them nods in Jagger’s direction.
The other opens the rope so we can pass.
His eyes linger on me in a creepy way that has goosebumps rising on my arms. What’s his problem?
I mean, I know I have a leather miniskirt on and a low-cut top that shows off a little cleavage, but you think he would be less obvious about ogling me when his boss is Jagger.
By the glare Jagger gives him, I’m not the only one who notices. Jagger moves aside, allowing us to pass through, while the second guard pulls the rope closed.
Asher pulls me along to our seats.
Their hushed voices become muffled behind us. I’m sure Jagger is threatening his life.
Asher leads me to our seats, that have a full bird’s-eye view of what looks like the makeshift stage from the top row.
They would be the perfect tickets if I wanted to see the show, but watching a live underground fight has never been on my bucket list, even if Cruz is one of the competitors—actually, especially when he’s one.
I don’t want to witness him in full psycho mode again.
Nor do I want to see him get the shit beaten out of him for a little cash.
It seems so barbaric to me. But I know this is important to him, and he’s been training like crazy to be up for it.
Asher’s arm is back slung over my shoulder, and he leans in, stealing a quick kiss. When he pulls back, our eyes lock. His lips twist up at the sides. “You’re too pretty to have that look on your face.”
I roll my eyes, his charm not easing the tension in my body. “You know I hate violence, Ash.”
“I’m sorry, princess. Try think of it more like a sport. I know you have a little competitive spirit in there someplace.”
I sigh heavily. “I guess. Hopefully it will be over quickly.”
“Most girls go all kinds of silly over Cruz when he participates in these events. Being his girl, you should be front row with pompoms.”
I raise a sassy brow. “Can you see me with pompoms? Really?”
“I can imagine the cheerleader uniform.” He chuckles playfully.
I laugh back. “I’m sure.” A small slither of jealousy slips under my skin at the idea of other girls lusting after Cruz. “Do they really go nuts for him?”
Asher motions to the front corner of the warehouse where a crowd has gathered.
There are girls all dolled up in trashy-as-hell miniskirts much like my own and crops that have Cruz’s face on them.
And there is the man himself signing stuff for them.
One girl pulls down her top and motions for him to sign her breast.
My fists curl at my sides, and I stand, ready to take off down the stairs. “Oh, you have to be kidding me.”
Asher chuckles, pulling me back to him with his arms wrapped tightly around my middle. “You don’t want a Cruz shirt? I’m sure he would sign it for you. He would happily sign your tits as well if that’s what you’re after.”
I throw him a disgusted face. “I want them to back the hell off. Skanks,” I spit.
He bites into his lip, still holding me close so I can’t escape him. “You’re so cute when you’re all jealous.”
“I’m not, it’s just weird. He’s not like famous or anything, so why are they all carrying on?”
“To this crowd he is a celebrity. These are his people, princess. They’ve followed his journey from the beginning when he was just a scrawny kid with an attitude problem.”
Cruz finishes signing some other girl’s bare stomach.
He’s grinning from ear to ear and looks happier than I think I’ve ever seen him.
I guess I see what Asher is talking about, he’s in his element.
And here I am wishing I was anyplace else.
I guess I should be trying to support something that is important to him.
His line of sight rises directly to me, and he winks cheekily.
I can’t help but smile back, especially when the bitch off to his side throws me a death glare and places a hand on her hip as if she’s pissed I’m taking his attention away from her and her trashy friends.
I kiss my hand and send it his way because I have no other way of getting them to back the hell off.
He catches the imaginary kiss and places his hand on his chest.
It sends a thrill through me. He has all that attention, and I’m the one he was searching the crowd for. “I guess I have nothing to worry about.”
“Were you really worried?” Asher laughs. “That boy has been into you from the first second he laid eyes on you.”
Jagger slides into the seat beside me. “Try not to draw attention to yourself, flower,” he mutters, unimpressed.
My eyes narrow in on him as he and his damn perfect scent invade my senses. “I thought you said I was safe with all the security around.”
“You are, but it only takes the wrong person to snap a shot of you here and send it to your family and we have another ambush waiting for us.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, sickness churning in my stomach. I’m sick to death of being stuck in that place with them, but I don’t like the uneasy way I feel out in the world again as well.
“Shit, Jagger, you’re scaring her,” Asher warns.
“Maybe it’s time I went to the top. We all know my papa is the one calling the shots.
And after that conversation with Dante a couple of days ago, I have been thinking maybe I can put a stop to all of this somehow,” I suggest, knowing we can’t go on like this forever.
Even once Asher and I are married, there will still be trouble, I just know it.
My family doesn’t give up on something they want that easily, and for my brother to be so invested, he’s getting something substantial out of it.
A growl comes from Jagger, and I glance at him to find his furious expression. “We handle this my way.”
I raise my hands in defense. “Okay, it was just an idea.”
His forehead creases, his grumpy mood in full force tonight. “Leave the ideas to me.”
“That would be right. I’m just a stupid girl, after all,” I huff, folding my arms over my chest. I slump back in my chair, facing away from him as much as I can when I’m so close to him.
I thought after the other day he was starting to see me differently, giving me a little independence with my own gun and all.
I thought maybe he was starting to respect me.
Asher gives me a sympathetic smile, but he doesn’t disagree with me or fight Jagger on it.
They really are as bad as each other. If they let me, I might be able to help, maybe get to the bottom of what they really want.
Maybe there’s another solution, and now that I’m feeling stronger, I want to fight for my freedom.
The lights dim, and the people on the ground floor scurry to find a seat.
An announcer takes center stage of the ring, a microphone in hand.
“I know you were all expecting a rematch for our title, but unfortunately, we’ve had a last-minute pull out from The Goon Rangoon, and we’ve had to do a little reshuffle. ”
The crowd boos.
The announcer chuckles. “Don’t fret, people. You’re in for a treat tonight. We still have The Stryker in the flesh.” He motions for the crowd to make some noise.
“Walking on Sunshine” blares through the speakers, and Cruz enters the ring with two oversized suited men at his sides.
An erratic energy about him as he bounces around with his best psychotic grin on his face.
The crowd below goes nuts, his cheer squad being shoved back by security as they try entering the ring to get their outstretched hands on him.