Chapter 52 Jagger
JAGGER
Ihate the morning of a fight. I’m always amped up and ready to go with nothing to do but wait.
Thankfully, Violet had work and some studying to catch up on, so I was able to disappear for the majority of the day.
Not that I didn’t want her with me. Fuck, do I want her with me.
But faking it is the hardest part. Pretending everything’s fine, and I’m confident I’ll take the W by the end of the night while knowing I’m about to lose my entire family a shit-ton of money and potentially a lot more if anyone finds out I’m throwing a bet on purpose.
Fucking breathe, I remind myself.
The warehouse is packed. Hell, it’s like a can of sardines.
Ford clearly did his job of spreading the word about tonight’s event very well.
Rolling my shoulders, I watch from the edge of the room.
A guy staggers toward a girl, spilling beer all over her shirt.
She squeals in horror. Yeah, he definitely did it on purpose.
A couple stands under a light. The two are so wrapped up in each other, I’m surprised they haven’t dropped their pants and started having sex where they stand.
At least it isn’t Ford. I continue my perusal, trying to distract myself, when I catch Morgan laughing with a couple of his friends.
Taking a wad of cash from his pocket, he hands it to the buddy beside him, then glances at me and grins.
I lift my hand in response, giving him the middle finger before crossing my arms and continuing my lazy survey of tonight’s crowd.
That’s when I glimpse her. My Little Thief. With a smile, she moves through the sea of people waiting for the fight to start.
“Hey!” Rising onto her tiptoes, Violet kisses my cheek. The simple touch cuts through the toxic cloud hanging over me. It makes me feel like I can almost breathe again.
“Hey, you made it.” I slip my hand along the side of her face, angling her head for me as my mouth descends on hers.
She drove separately so she could bring Lexie and June, and while I was grateful for it this morning, I missed her more than she knows.
Opening her mouth for me, she lets me in, sucking on my tongue and grasping my wrist with her dainty little fingers as I kiss the shit out of her.
I need it. Need her. The reminder of why I’m doing this. Why I’m risking as much as I am.
Don’t think like that, I silently remind myself.
It’s one fight. One measly fight. Hell, maybe I can even convince Morgan to a rematch in the future with no-holds-barred. No restrictions. And I can beat his ass once and for all.
Holding onto the possibility, I squeeze my eyes shut even tighter and lose myself in Violet’s touch. Her taste. Her strength. She smiles against my mouth, her body swaying toward me.
“All right, you two, keep it in your pants,” Lexie grumbles. “I’m going to go say hi to my brother. June, you want to come?”
“Uh…” She grimaces. “No offense, but your brother kind of scares me.”
“Meh, he scares everyone,” Lexie defends. “Don’t worry. He’s all bark and no bite. I’ll be back.” As she traipses off, Ford approaches with two girls by his side. He stops short, seeing Violet’s roommate at the edge of our group. “Why, hello, June Bug.”
June’s eyes fall to the cement floor as she scoots closer to my girlfriend. “Hello.”
“Fancy seeing you here.” Ford cocks his head, studying her before turning to the two girls beside him. “Ladies,” he says. “Come find me after. Daddy’s got some work to do.”
“Daddy?” Violet snorts.
“Give me a break,” Ford defends. “I gotta keep up the larger than life persona of the Harden name since Jagger’s been failing ever since you two started dating.” He looks at June. “Trust me, I’m nothing but a big ol’ teddy bear.”
“Which I’m sure half of campus can attest to,” Violet quips.
My mouth lifts. Fuck, I love this girl.
“Come on, Jag.” Ford throws his hands up in the air. “Not even gonna try and come to your baby brother’s defense?”
“Pretty sure you can handle yourself,” I return.
“Speaking of handling things,” Ford muses. “I still can’t believe Morgan agreed to this.” Looking around the packed warehouse, Ford tacks on a whistle. “The guy thinks he can beat you twice? Even after all the shit he’s put you guys through?”
My eye twitches, but I rub it away, taking in the crowd for the hundredth time tonight.
There’s a buzz in the air. With how charged it feels, you’d think it was being streamed on every sports channel instead of being run by an underground group of partiers.
Usually, I feed off the energy. Tonight, it only leaves me nauseated.
“Hey, you good?” Hawke asks. I barely restrain my flinch as I look over at him.
Fuck, I was so distracted, I didn’t even notice him.
Maybe I really am gonna lose, and it won’t be an act.
Won’t put our business in jeopardy. Regardless, if I don’t get my head in the game, I’m going to wind up on a stretcher.
Brows stitched with concern, Hawke repeats, “I said, are you good?”
“I’m not,” Violet interjects. “Call me an overprotective girlfriend, but I’m a little stressed.”
“It’ll be fine,” Ford tells her.
Despite his response, Violet peers up at me and only me. “You think?”
“Yeah.” I breathe in deep through my nose, determined to keep my expression in check. “Everything will be fine. I promise.” The words leave an acrid taste, but I deliver them so flawlessly, I’m convinced I should take up acting for the hell of it.
With a shy smile, she touches my bicep, dragging her hand along my shoulder before cupping the back of my head and kissing me like she did when she first arrived.
My brothers whistle around us, and I shake my head, smiling against her soft lips.
For the first time since I left Violet’s side this morning, I almost feel okay.
I’m going to get through this. I have to.
“I love you, Jagger,” she murmurs.
“Love you, too.”
“I’m sorry?” Ford scoffs. “Did I just hear you two using what constitutes a very controversial four-letter word in the Harden household?”
“Says the guy who drops F-bombs every thirty seconds.” June slaps her hand over her mouth as if she’s as surprised by her own two-cents as we are.
Impressed, Ford folds his arms and rocks back on his heels. “There a problem with the word, fuck, June Bug?”
“No problem,” she squeaks.
“You sure?”
Her head bobs up and down. “Mm-hmm.”
“Then, uh, why do you look like you’re staring up at the boogeyman?” he challenges, moving closer to her.
Blindly stepping backward, she mirrors his movements but stops short when she realizes there’s nowhere else to disappear. “It’s just…is there a problem with the word love?”
“Love’s gotta exist for me to use it. Although.” He turns his attention to me and Vi. “You two do make a good argument for it.” Giving June some space, he adds, “Anyway, I should probably get back to work. This money won’t collect itself, am I right?”
“Wait.” Violet digs into her back pocket and reveals two crumpled hundred dollar bills. The sight alone is enough to make me want to vomit. “Put this on Jag for me—”
“Keep it.” I snatch the cash from her fingers, fold it back into her pocket, then kiss her nose, hoping it’s enough to take away the sting from my out-of-line behavior.
“Oh, come on,” she pouts. “I want to show my support.”
Dread and resignation coat my insides as I shake my head. “Sorry, Little Thief, but I’m not letting you bet on me. Not tonight.”
“Why not?” she asks.
“Because…” I force my vocal cords to work no matter how clogged they are with deception. “Because it’s called gambling for a reason.”
“You saying we should be worried?” Ford interjects, and I don’t miss the humor in his tone.
My mouth curves up in a smirk. “I wouldn’t go that far.” Leaning down, I kiss Violet one more time. “Stay by Roman, okay?”
She nods. “Okay.” Her fingers dig into my T-shirt. “Hey, Jag?”
“Yeah?”
“Knock him dead, all right?”
“Oh?” Ford says, surprised by my girl’s tenacity.
Violet nods again. “After all the shit he’s put me through? I’d say he deserves it, don’t you?”
He does deserve it. Deserves so much more than a solid ass whooping.
Instead, I’m about to hand him a win, bragging rights, and more money than the asshole knows what to do with.
That’s a lie. I think he knows exactly what he’s going to do with his winnings.
He’s going to stake his claim in The Drift with it. Bile floods my mouth at the thought.
What the hell am I doing?
“Jag!” Roman calls from the edge of the mat. “It’s time.”
I shake my head and reach for the collar of my T-shirt. Pulling it off, I hand the dark material to Violet when Hawke stops me.
“Be careful, all right?” he warns.
“I will.”
Technically, it isn’t a lie. I will be careful. Doesn’t mean I’ll win, but I’ll make sure to keep up the facade as best as I can even if it kills me. Because if I don’t, it’ll only put our business in more jeopardy, which is the last thing any of us needs.
I know he wants to say something else. To tell me to pull my head out of my ass. He won’t, though. It’s just like he said; he has my back. No matter what.
Tongue in cheek, he moves aside, and I step up to the mat.
People gather around. They’re whistling and cheering and holding up red Solo cups.
I don’t hear any of it, though. Nothing but the whooshing in my ears as I tear my attention from the crowd and turn to Ethan Morgan on the opposite side of the mat.
His cocky grin hits like Tabasco, and I squeeze my hands into fists at my side.
What I wouldn’t give to smash the arrogant motherfucker’s face against the mat.
“Jag, let’s get you taped up.” Roman grabs my hand and begins wrapping the white tape along my knuckles. “You good?” he prods, casting me a sharp glance between taping.
I nod but don’t say anything else.
“We’re gonna clean up tonight,” he continues. “All you gotta do is channel that energy toward the right person.” He gives me another look, this one is more pointed. “You got this.”
I should have this. But I won’t. Irritation heats my limbs. “Thanks, Rome,” I mutter.
He claps his hand on my shoulder, then steps aside. “Go get him.”
Bouncing on the balls of my feet, I head to the center of the mat toward a waiting Morgan.
One of the refs steps into my line of sight while the other stands at the edge of the mat acting as nothing but another pair of eyes.
“No biting, no eye gouging, no crotch shots. We clear?” the first ref says.
I blink, forcing myself to focus on the fight, surprised by the strong hit of deja vu accompanying his words.
I’ve done this a hundred times, but this is only the second time I’ll lose.
Both of which will be in front of Violet.
The realization messes with my head as heat ripples through my body.
I glance behind me. My girl stands beside Roman, flanked by her friends.
When she gives me the cutest little wave, my chest tightens.
“Jagger?” the ref prods.
I face him again. “Yeah, we’re clear.”
Satisfied, the ref turns to Morgan. “We clear?”
The asshole stares back at me, his eyes nothing but slits. “Of course. This is only a friendly fight, right?”
Friendly, my ass.
Thankfully, the ref doesn’t buy his bullshit answer, either. A twinge hits the back of his jaw, but he continues. “It’s tap out or pass out. Each with two minute rounds. We go ‘til one of you can’t. Any questions?” He doesn’t wait for either of us to answer. “Touch knuckles.”
I raise my fists. Morgan does the same, brushing our closed fists against each other before we bring them up to protect our faces.
Then, the bell rings.