Chapter 49 Jagger
JAGGER
The drive is long, though I feel like I make it there in two seconds flat.
It’s late. I’m exhausted. But I could only avoid home for so long.
I already know the guys are waiting for me.
I just wish I knew what to say. Pushing open the front door, I toss my keys into a bowl on the side table as the sound of scuffing feet echoes from the front of the house.
“Jag, that you?” Roman calls.
Everyone’s in the family room. Ford’s ass is planted on the couch, while Roman stands by the fireplace with Hawke beside him. Seems I wasn’t the only one a little anxious this evening.
“Where’s Cobie?” I ask.
“Asleep upstairs,” Hawke answers.
Asleep? My brows dip as I check the time on my phone. It’s just past one in the morning. I haven’t slept in over thirty-six hours. Damn. No wonder my thoughts feel foggy.
“How’d it go?” Roman asks.
How’d it go? Well, let’s see. Not exactly great. Pretty shitty, actually. The asshole gave me an unwinnable ultimatum, but I don’t see any way around it, not without sacrificing my girl’s childhood home, which she loves, so…yeah. We’re fucked.
“Jag?” Hawke prods.
With a sigh, I take a seat on the arm of one of the couches. “He’s moving out on Sunday.”
Surprise paints each of their faces, like they’re shocked as hell I actually came through. Then again, considering what I had to agree to, I guess I understand their reactions.
“What’d you have to do?” Hawke asks.
“Gave him what he thinks it’s worth.”
Ford asks, “So, he’s good? Everyone’s happy? No issues?”
My nod is jerky at best. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re good.”
“How much?” Roman questions.
Nausea swirls in my stomach. I don’t want to lie to them.
But I also don’t want to tell them the truth.
If I do, they’ll be pissed and will respond in one of two ways.
One, they’ll try to talk me out of it. We’ll get into a fight.
Shit hits the fan. Everything ends in disaster.
Or two, they’ll let me go through with it but pad the bets or withdraw from making their own wagers entirely, which will be a major red flag and more ammunition slash evidence of us rigging a Harden Event.
And then? Shit hits the fan. Everything ends in disaster. And we wind up right where we left off.
Talk about a rock and a hard place.
The problem is, I don’t lie to my brothers. None of us do. It’s an unspoken rule. Something so crystal clear we didn’t have to discuss it. Not when we were little, and not now.
Squeezing the back of my neck, I choose my response carefully. “Trust me, you don’t want to know what I had to give up for this.”
As Ford considers my reply, he scratches his jaw and exchanges a look with Roman while Hawke pins me with his stare, still leaning against the fireplace.
Hell, I can practically see the wheels turning in each of their heads.
Usually, I appreciate it. Their constant vigilance for sniffing out bullshit. Now, it only makes my skin feel itchy.
“Why the frowns, gentlemen?” I say, calling them out.
“Nothing, it’s just…” Roman hesitates then offers a shrug. “I guess we’re a little surprised he caved so easily.”
“I wouldn’t say easily,” I defend, giving them as much of the truth as I can. “But it’s done. We came to an agreement. My girl will be happy. My family’s safe. And, as a bonus,”—a lump grows beneath my Adam’s apple, and I choke it back—“Morgan agreed to another fight.”
Ford’s brows raise. “What?”
“The asshole and I agreed to a rematch,” I announce. “One week from today.”
Damn, I think I might puke.
“Hold up.” Roman raises his hand into the air. “Morgan agreed to a rematch even after you beat the shit out of him at The Bean Scene?”
“Guess he feels like he has something to prove,” I offer.
“No shit?” The disbelief in Ford’s tone is so thick, it’s like molasses.
I sit up a little taller, forcing a cocky grin. It feels nothing but hollow while all the potential fallouts flash through my mind like a fucking laser show. “No shit.”
“All right, I’ll see what I can do.” With his hands on his thighs, Ford stands from the couch and starts toward his room.
“Hey, Ford,” I call.
He glances over his shoulder at me. “Yeah, man?”
“Let everyone know it’s a rematch between me and Morgan.”
His brows raise. “You want me to announce it before the fight?”
“It’s what the people want, isn’t it?”
“Well, yeah, but…” Ford’s attention shifts to Roman and Hawke.
“How’d you convince him to agree to a rematch?” Hawke challenges. “He would’ve lost if he hadn’t cheated the first time.”
Damn. The man’s too astute for his own good. Well, for my own good, considering the circumstances. I shouldn’t be surprised. Hawke’s bullshit meter has always been spot-on.
“Guess he doesn’t see it that way,” I reply coolly.
“Who’s to say he won’t cheat again?” Roman interjects.
“I’m not worried,” I lie. “Besides, do you really think I’ll let him get away with taking Violet’s house without any repercussions?”
“We’ll have two refs cover the fight,” Ford decides.
“Make a big deal out of it. Build up the hype.” He grins.
“Damn, Jag. You really are a genius. With a brawl like this, we’ll clean up so much with the winnings, it’ll be like you didn’t dip into your account to buy her house at all.
Hell, you might even make money from it. ”
A stone falls in my gut. “Exactly.”
“Next Saturday, here we come.” Ford jogs up the stairs, taking them two at a time until Roman, Hawke, and me are the only ones left in the family room.
“All right, I’m gonna head home,” Roman announces.
“You’re not staying here?” I ask.
“Nah, I should probably check on my place.” He moves toward me and offers his hand, pulling me into an embrace and slapping my back. “Glad you’re safe.”
“Thanks, man,” I murmur.
Letting me go, he heads out the front door, but I stop him at the last second. “One more thing.”
“Yeah?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Morgan, uh, he mentioned the haunted house. Not sure what he knows, but…”
“I’ll do some digging,” Roman promises. Tossing his car keys into the air, he catches them, then strides out the door until it’s only me, Hawke, and the crackling fire.
With an exhale, I squeeze the back of my neck again, massaging my sore muscles from the stiffness that’s built up over the last twenty-four hours.
I need some damn sleep. Everything will look better in the morning.
It’s what my mom used to say. The sentiment has proven true more times than I can count over the years, and I’m grateful for it.
The wise words from my past. The promise of tomorrow.
I let the reminder ground me. Sleep. I just need some sleep.
“All right, man,” I mutter. “I’m exhausted. I think I’m going to try to get some rest.” With a sigh, I wipe my palms against my thighs and start to stand but hesitate at the last second.
Scrutiny. You can’t see it, but damn, can you feel it when it’s directed at you. And Hawke? The man’s staring at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“There a problem?” I ask.
“Does Violet know?”
“Know what?”
“What you’re giving up?” It isn’t the question.
It’s the way Hawke says it. The subtle inflection.
The disappointment and resignation. Fuck me.
Does he know? The truth? Between Roman and Hawke, not much slips past them.
Were they watching? Despite my insistence of going alone?
If they’re good at anything, it’s blending in and being ghosts, and I knew I was being watched, but I never would’ve guessed it’d be my own brothers following me. Or maybe brother, as in, singular.
My eyes thin as I slowly push to my feet, refusing to show my hand without confirmation of what he does or doesn’t already know. “What are you talking about, Hawke?”
“Five times what it’s worth.” Hawke whistles. “It’s what you offered, right?”
So, he was watching. Sneaky sonofabitch.
“You really think I was going to let you go in there alone?” he challenges, reading my thoughts.
“Does Rome know?” I ask.
Hawke shakes his head, and relief floods my system. Good. It’s one less thing for me to worry about. One less person for me to justify my actions to.
“You could always buy her a different place, you know,” Hawke adds. “Maybe even one on the right side of town.”
“She’s given up enough for her dad,” I remind him. “And if you’re worried about money or the business—”
“This isn’t about money.” Picking up a picture of my mom and sister from the mantle, Hawke examines it. “That’s Ford’s thing, not mine.”
I nod, knowing he’s right. Hawke’s never cared about money or status or…anything at all, really, outside of his family. “And the business?” I prod. “Is that what you’re worried about?”
“Right now, I’m talking about you and Violet.”
My brows wrinkle. “What about Vi?”
“I like Violet. I like her a lot.” He sighs. “I just don’t want you to regret it.”
The severity in his gaze makes me pause. “I’ll never regret Violet.”
“I’m not talking about Violet,” he murmurs.
“Then, what are you talking about, Hawke?” I demand.
The muscle in his jaw jumps, and he sets the frame back onto the mantle. “Sometimes, I think we sacrifice so much for the people we love, the resentment builds until we forget why we love them in the first place.”
“What’s your point?”
“All I’m saying is, I don’t want it to happen to you.” His shoulder lifts in a shrug. “Call me crazy, but I think Violet would rather have you than the house with a million haunted memories tainting it.”
“And a million good ones,” I argue.
“I get it,” Hawke concedes. “If she was my girl, I’d do the same thing.”
He’s right. He would. Hawke’s the most loyal person I know.
One of them, at least. Between him and Roman, it’s a close race, though neither of them are competing.
Still. If I know anything about Hawke, it’s that he’d die for the people he loves, and if he ever finds a girl, I’ve no doubt he’ll burn the world to the ground for her.
Analyzing him, I say, “So, what’s the problem?”
His head rolls forward. “The problem is, I know you, man.”
I frown. What the hell does this guy know?
“Some things you can’t control,” he clarifies, moving toward me. “I just wanna make sure you’re choosing the right battles.”
“And if I’m not?”
“Then, we’ve got your back. Like always.”
Silence grows in the stifling family room, nothing but the crackling fire to break it.
Finally, Hawke slaps his hand against my shoulder. “You should call her. Tell her the good news.”
He’s right. Again.
The weight of his palm leaves my shoulder, and he starts toward the door, but I call out, “Hey, Hawke?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks, man.” I hold his gaze, unsure what else to say. “I know you mean well.”
He nods. “You’re always so busy looking out for everyone else, I think you forget we’re capable of looking out for you, too.”
My head bobs, but I don’t say anything else, afraid I’ll blurt out the truth, even if he’s already privy to it.
I don’t know. It’s like, if I say it out loud, if I admit how I potentially ruined our entire business by agreeing to throw the fight, it’ll be true.
It’ll be final. There won’t be any going back. It messes with my head.
“Call your girl,” he repeats. His knuckles rap against the doorjamb, and he disappears from view.
With a deep breath, I find myself in front of the crackling fireplace as I pull out my phone and dial Violet’s number.
“Jag?” she answers. Her voice is rusty with sleep. “Hey.”
“Shit, I didn’t even think about what time it is,” I mutter. “Go to sleep. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
“Uh-uh.” She clears her throat. “No deal. You’ve awoken the beast. Now you have to talk to her.”
My mouth lifts. “Pretty sure you’re the beauty and I’m the beast.”
“You do get pretty growly sometimes,” she teases. “So, what’s up?”
“I have good news,” I announce. “The, uh, the house. I met with Morgan tonight, and, uh…” Shit. How is this harder than when I told my brothers? “I took care of it.”
Suspicion winds its way through Violet’s voice as she asks, “And how did you take care of it?” I can’t help but wonder if she sees right through me the same way Hawke did. The same way Roman and Ford did until Ford became distracted with another fight night to plan.
I squeeze my eyes shut, my free hand pressed to the mantle as I take in a deep breath through my nose. “It’s yours.”
“Jagger.”
“Violet,” I volley.
“How did you…? What did you…?”
“I said I took care of it,” I repeat. “I called because I was excited to tell you, okay? Now, get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Jagger-–”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I repeat.
Silence rings out through my cell until her quiet voice cuts through the static. “Okay,” she breathes out. “I, uh, I…”
I wait for her to finish her sentence, but I’m only greeted with another round of silence. She what?
What were you going to say, Vi?
Something knocks me in the chest as I consider the short list of options. She wasn’t going to say loves me, was she? Would she? Does she? I shift my cell to my opposite ear. “Yeah?” I urge.
“I…I miss you,” she rushes out. “And thank you.”
My mouth lifts. “No need to thank me, Vi.”
“You didn’t have to step in. You know I would never ask you to, but…you did it anyway, and…I know I’m not used to someone looking out for me, but…thank you.”
Doesn’t she get it, by now? I’m in this girl’s corner no matter what. Even if it kills me.
“Anytime, Little Thief.” And damn, if it isn’t the truth.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she murmurs.
Still smiling in spite of the shitty night I’ve had, I reply “See you, Little Thief.”
Then, the call ends, and I tap the edge of my phone against my chin.
Even now, I can’t make myself regret it.
The deal I made with Ethan. Because if it means I get to hear my Violet’s relief, then it’s enough.
Hell, it’s more than enough. But for now, I gotta figure out what I’m going to do from here.
And that, is a problem.