Chapter 46 Jagger
JAGGER
By the time I get home, it’s almost three in the morning. I’m used to late nights, though. What I’m not used to is Roman pacing the kitchen when I walk in.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
Roman digs his fingers into the back of his neck. “You’re not gonna like it.”
“Like what?” I push. “Is Cobie okay?”
“She’s fine,” he rushes out. “Asked me to pick her and Ford up since he was drunk off his ass. Made sure she was tucked in bed before heading out again.”
“And?”
“And that’s when I caught Morgan going into your girl’s place in The Drift.”
“What?”
“Him and a couple buddies,” Roman clarifies.
Fear prickles my line of sight, but I blink it away, demanding, “Was Violet there?”
Roman shakes his head. “Nah. The dad wasn’t home, either. Just walked in like he owned the place.”
Okay. Violet’s okay. Nothing else matters. Holding onto my scraps of logic, I ask, “What about Lexie? Was she there for some reason? Maybe he was looking for her—”
“She’s at work. Hawke confirmed it.”
I shake my head. It doesn’t make any sense.
“Why would Morgan walk into Violet’s home when no one else is there?”
“Not sure,” Roman grumbles, his gaze on the floor. “But I have a guess, and you’re not gonna like it even more.”
And there it is. The truth. Or at least a solid assumption. Cocking my head, I wait for him to fill me in, no matter how much he’d prefer not to…which means it must be bad. “Rome,” I warn.
His eyes flick to me. “Rumor has it, your girl’s dad made a bet and lost. Big time.”
“What’d he lose?” I push, but I have a feeling I already know the answer.
Why else would Morgan be at Vi’s home? Or maybe he was only looking to collect on Virgil’s payment.
It’s definitely plausible. And if that’s the case then, fuck him.
Maybe Morgan’s doing me a favor. Wouldn’t it be a nice change of pace for once.
“He bet the house,” Roman says.
So much for Morgan doing me a favor.
The muscle at the back of my jaw twinges. “Who’s name is on the title? Violet’s mother’s?”
“Violet.”
“So, it’s not his.”
“Not sure Morgan cares who’s name is on the title.”
I drop my keys on the counter. “Set up a meeting.”
“Jag—”
“Better yet, bring Virgil here. I don’t care if you have to knock him out and put him in the trunk. I’m done with the asshole’s bullshit.”
Roman runs his tongue between his upper lip and teeth. Clearly, he’s lukewarm over the idea of following my order. “Might take me a few to find him.”
The bastard’s like a slippery worm.
My fingers dig into the bridge of my nose as I fight to stave off a headache. “If we’re lucky, maybe he’s in a ditch somewhere.”
“I have a feeling we’re not that lucky,” Roman mutters. “He’s been missing since the game ended.”
After I first met Vi, I had Ford fill me in on every bet Virgil had made. His trends. His weaknesses. His winnings versus losses. The guy’s won big more than a few times, though his losses far outweigh them.
“Which game?” I ask.
“Lions,” Roman answers, mentioning the professional hockey team from Lockwood Heights Virgil has a habit of betting against. Fuck.
If only Morgan wasn’t in the picture, this wouldn’t be a problem.
Virgil wouldn’t have had any other connections to sports gambling after I cut him off, thanks to certain state restrictions.
Part of me wonders if this is my fault. If I hadn't embarrassed him during the last event, if I hadn’t told Ford to refuse taking any more bets from the asshole, would he have still searched out Morgan?
Would this have still happened? I shake my head, refusing to play the should’ve, would’ve, could’ve game, no matter how easy it is to fall into the trap.
“When you find him, let me know,” I tell Roman. “I’ll be waiting.”
“Sure thing.” He hesitates at the doorway. “You gonna tell Vi?”
Tell her how her father found a way to screw her all over again? Even after all the shit he’s put her through? The idea alone is enough to leave me nauseated, but I force myself to nod, anyway. “Better she hear it from me,” I tell him.
With a quiet sigh, Roman taps his knuckles against the doorjamb, then leaves me alone in the quiet kitchen with nothing but my thoughts for company.
I dig out my phone and send Violet a text.
Me
Hey, you awake?
I’d be surprised if she is. She was exhausted.
Now that I think about it, so am I. I set my phone on the kitchen counter and brew a pot of coffee.
There’s no way I’ll be able to sleep anyway.
Not with my pending conversation with Virgil.
As I grab a cup from the cabinet, my phone buzzes with a message.
Little Thief
Yeah. Hey.
Damn. I almost hoped she could get a good night’s rest before I shit all over her day, but it is what it is. Rubbing at the corner of my eye, I type my response.
Me
I know it’s late, but I need to talk to you, and I think it’s best if you hear it from me. If you’re up for it, I can tell you right now, or you can call me in the morning. Thoughts?
Her response is almost instant this time.
Little Thief
Doubt I’ll be sleeping for the foreseeable future, considering who was banging on my front door a few minutes ago.
The blood drains from my face, and I dial Violet’s number. It only rings once when her quiet voice replaces the ringing.
“Hey.”
“Tell me you’re okay,” I rush out.
“Y-yeah.” She hesitates. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Vi—”
“Seriously, I’m okay.” She sounds more sure this time, less dazed. Or maybe she’s faking it in hopes of putting me at ease. I wouldn’t put it past her.
Slumping against the counter, I force myself to calm down and focus on the facts. “Was it your dad?”
Silence.
“Talk to me, Little Thief,” I push.
“Yes.” The word is nothing but a breath, and my blood turns to an icy sludge. “It, uh, it was my dad.”
Turning the call to my speaker, I pull up my text thread with Roman and pass along the information, while maintaining as much composure as I can. “Is he gone, Vi?”
“Yes.”
Relief spreads through me, and my head hangs forward. “Good. That’s really good, Vi,” I repeat, turning off the speaker and lifting my cell back to my ear. “Do you know why he went to your place?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
The spreading relief shrinks as I register the slight tremble in her response. What did he do? Pressing my free hand to the cool countertop, I let it steal my heat, focusing on the temperature difference while forcing myself to stay calm. “Did he tell you about the bet?”
Please say no, I silently beg. Say no so I can take care of this without putting you through unnecessary fear or discomfort.
“Yes, he told me.”
I scrub my hand over my face. “I’m going to take care of this, okay? I promise you—”
“Jagger, I have a brother.”
The confession blindsides me, and I pull my cell from my ear, checking the name on the screen in case I somehow got connected to, who? The Easter Bunny? I don’t even know, but even that would make more sense than Violet revealing she has a brother.
“What are you talking about? I ask.
“I have a brother.”
“How do you know?”
“My sperm donor told me,” she murmurs as if she’s in the same daze as when she answered my call.
“Why?” I yank at the tie strangling me, undoing the knot and tossing it on the kitchen counter as if it’s personally offended me. “Why would he tell you that?”
“At first, I think it was an accident, but then, he realized he could use the information as leverage and…” Her voice cracks, taking the organ in my chest right along with it.
But it’s the silence that really does me in. As it eats my stomach lining, I shift my phone to my opposite ear. “Violet, talk to me. Please talk to me.”
“He said he’d give me my brother’s name if I…” Her voice quivers. “If I would sign over the house, and…”
The ache in her tone guts me. “Baby,” I rasp.
“His name’s Oliver,” she chokes out. “Oliver Reeves. He’s a professional hockey player for the, uh, the Lions, I guess?
” My blood runs cold. “And according to Wikipedia, he’s also like, married with some kids,” she continues, “and he’s like…
a lot older than me, which is weird. But, I don't know. I don’t know what to think. What if he lied?”
That sonofabitch lying? It wouldn’t surprise me. Hell, I’d probably bet he is in every case except this one. Why? Because of one word she mentioned. Lions.
“Listen, I don’t know if this is going to hurt or help, but I’m going to be honest with you, Vi.” I undo the top button on my shirt, careful of my next words. “I, uh, I don’t think he’s lying. Not this time.”
“How can you be so sure?”
The words are nothing but a squeak, and my head falls forward even more.
I hope above anything else in this world that I’m not about to break this girl’s heart or get her hopes up or…
I don’t even know. All I know is she deserves the truth.
She deserves so much more than the truth, but it’s all I have to give her right now.
“A little while ago, I asked Ford to tell me about your dad’s gambling habits.” I swallow thickly. “He always bets against the Lions. Every game. If he’s as much of an asshole with his son as he is with you, it makes sense.”
The same gut-wrenching silence follows, but I let it wash over both of us, giving my Little Thief time to process everything she’s experienced tonight, including what little information I can offer her.
“Yeah.” She sniffs. “Yeah, I guess it does.” She sniffs again. “At least it’s worth it now.”
I close my eyes, hating how a small part of me already knows what she’s going to say. “What’s worth it?”
“Signing over the house,” she whispers.
“What did you sign?” I try to keep the frustration from my voice, especially when I’m not pissed at her. I’m pissed for her. “You know what, don’t even worry about it, okay? I’ll fix this, Vi. I promise.”
“Jagger—”
“I will,” I push. “I know how much you cared about the house. I’ll take care of it.”
“I’m not sure how that’s possible.”
“I’m a Harden, remember?”
A quiet, pathetic laugh slips through the phone’s speaker. “How could I forget?”
My hands itch to reach through my cell and yank her out of it so I can look at her. So I can hold her. So I can wipe away the tears I know are falling down her cheeks. So I can give her whatever she needs, even if it costs me everything.
“Do you want me to come pick you up?” I offer.
She hesitates. “I’m okay. I think I just want some sleep.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” she whispers. “I’m really glad you texted me.”
“Roman saw Morgan going into your dad’s house, and I felt like you should know what your dad did. Never thought you’d be put in this position, though.”
“Yeah.” The word is nothing but a breath. “I loved that home, Jag. I know it’s stupid. I know I shouldn't care. That I should be happy I might have a brother—and I am—but…I don’t know. I guess it’s finally sinking in. That my mom’s home. The only thing she left me. Is gone. Forever.”
Fuck me. The rawness in her voice. The slight tremble. My fingers dig into my cell. She’s been crying. Hell, she still is.
“I’m coming to get you,” I decide.
“Jag—”
“I can’t hear you like this—”
“I’ll be okay,” she promises, but I don’t miss the slight sniffle tacked on at the end. “Besides, I don’t want June here all by herself in case my dad shows up again, you know?”
The lock on the front door unclicks, and my attention snaps to the heavy oak door. “Trust me. It won’t be a problem. Look, I need to go, but I’ll see you in the morning.”
“See you,” she whispers.
I hang up the call as Roman drags in a stumbling Virgil. Grabbing a chair from the kitchen table, I motion to it. “Take a seat, Virgil. Seems you and I should have a chat.”