Jagger: SRMC #1, page 11
“I . . . I’m so sorry for the way I acted and the things I said to you,” I began, and she pinched her lips as I continued. “You didn’t deserve my anger, and I can’t say I’m sorry enough.” I looked down at the table and then back at her. “I never saw myself as good enough for anyone, let alone someone as amazing as you. When I thought Nana was hurt, I immediately blamed myself but lashed out at you. There isn’t any justification for my actions, but I hope I can prove to you how sorry I am and how I’ll never do anything like that again.”
“Your words cut me to the bone, Lincoln. You took a beautiful moment, something unique and special, and basically made it another roll in the hay that you were regretting.” She crossed her arms and glanced to the side as she said, “You acted like I was nothing, and I deserve more. I deserve someone who puts me first, not who treats me as an afterthought.”
I reached across the table and held my hand out, hoping she would take it. Eventually, she reached out and let me hold her hand as I explained. “You were never an afterthought. If anything, you take over all my thoughts. You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I swear to you, on the patch on my cut, I will never put you through anything like that again.” I tried to crack a smile as I tacked on, “If I do, then I deserve the ass kicking your father and Cheyenne will give me.”
Her cheeks pushed up as she replied, “Granny’s the one you need to look out for. She’s got mojo that scares even me sometimes.”
“I’ll remember that.” Lifting her hand, I leaned over and kissed the back as I asked, “So, do you think you can forgive me?”
She lifted her soulful green eyes, and when she nodded with a smile, I stood from my chair and yanked her up into my arms. Just before I slammed my lips to hers, I whispered, “Thank fuck.”
There was nothing nice or gentle about this kiss. This kiss was filled with passion, longing, need, and a frenzy that I’d never experienced before. Her lips tasted faintly of chocolate from her dessert, and as our tongues tangled together, I reminded myself to not push past this. I didn’t want her to think I was a horn-dog, even though the only thing I wanted to do was eat her perfect pussy until she passed out from pleasure.
Slowing the kiss, I leaned back from her and saw the smile she was beaming up at me. Trying to be a better man, I guided her back to her seat and kneeled in front of her. “I’m going to get your clothes from the dryer, if you want to take a shower.”
“You . . . we’re . . .” she began, and once again, I lifted her hands up to my lips and kissed them.
“We can get to that later. I want to make sure my woman is taken care of so we don’t have to go back out into the snow tonight. Besides, I forgot my laptop in my saddle bag and need to grab it.”
She seemed unsure, but as I stood, I assisted her back to her feet. Pulling her close to me, I whispered, “I want you more than you can imagine, but we don’t have to put a clock on sex. We’re going to have the rest of our lives for that.”
Biting her lip, she fluttered her eyes, and I winked at her before releasing my hold on her. As she walked toward the bathroom, I popped her on the ass, and she squealed as she grabbed her cheek and looked over her shoulder at me. Wiggling my eyebrows, I watched as she walked into the bathroom, and when I heard the door lock, I grabbed the key and walked out into the cold.
I had a few layers on, with a black-and-white flannel jacket under my cut, but the temperature was dropping. The snow wasn’t falling as heavily as it had earlier, and as I walked to the little laundry room and grabbed Jackie’s clothes from the dryer, I thought about what was going to be waiting for us back in Rapid City.
I put my phone on vibrate when I checked us in earlier, and after leaving the clothes on the bed and grabbing my laptop from my bike, I secured the door and took a seat. There were countless messages between Roughstock, Phantom, Animal, and strangely enough, Devlin Callahan.
Looking over them all, I decided to call Roughstock while I could still hear the shower running. I didn’t want to talk about this in front of Jackie, but I needed to know what was going on.
Dialing his number, I listened to it ring three times before he answered.
“Hey, brother. Cheyenne said you and Jackie are holed up about an hour from the ranch. How’s it going?”
I glanced to the closed bathroom door before answering. “Things are good. Motel has a little restaurant, so we’re covered, but I hope to be on the road early in the morning.”
“Weather should cooperate for you.”
“Did Animal bring back the box?” I asked.
“He did, and we have a lead on how they got to Dozer, whoever they are.” I sat up, listening as he spoke. “When we told his wife, she let Warhol look over his records. It looks like he was digging something about forty minutes west of your current location. There aren’t any specifics, but from what Warhol can piece together, it was some kind of a bunker or underground shelter.”
I thought about what he said and asked, “When did he do this work?”
“There were actually two different jobs he did in the same isolated area. One was two years ago, and the other was about four months before Pops died.”
Standing from the chair, I walked closer to the bathroom door and heard the water still running, so I stepped back to the front of the room and lowered my voice. “Why does it seem like someone is tying up loose ends?”
“That’s exactly what I said to Devlin. Someone—be it Blur, a Bastard, or someone working with Blur—seems to be going after anyone who can make the pieces fit together,” Roughstock reasoned.
I heard the shower turn off and the curtain open, so I spoke softly and quickly. “Then the box was a warning.”
“I think so, brother. You need to make sure Jackie is covered at all times until we can get this stopped.”
Shaking my head, I ran my hands through my hair as I muttered, “She’s gonna fucking hate that.”
“Then make her understand. Even if it means telling her everything and letting her get scared. I’d much rather have her scared than in danger. Or worse.”
The bathroom door opened, and Jackie stepped out, looking like a dream come to life. Her damp hair fell halfway down her back, and as she secured the towel around her upper chest, I secretly wished it would fall to the ground. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her as she smiled and walked to her pile of warm clothes.
“Are you listening, Jagger?” Roughstock asked, and I shook off the lustful haze I was swimming in and gave him my attention.
“Yep,” I returned, and he chuckled through the phone.
“Call me in the morning but think about what I said. Secrets put her in danger, and maybe she’ll have some insight since she’s been spending a lot of time in the back country, where I believe all this is going down.”
“Yep,” I replied and lowered the phone from my ear.
Jackie pulled a pair of panties from the pile and pulled them up her legs under the towel. Her moan as she grabbed a shirt and pair of shorts made my cock lurch in my pants, and just before she walked back into the bathroom, she looked over at me.
“There’s nothing better than underwear fresh out of the dryer.”
She disappeared into the bathroom with a smile, and I looked down at the phone, thinking about what Roughstock said. I fucking hated to scare her, but Jackie was the one who stumbled onto all this, and if the severed head of someone who may have had a connection to the trafficking being left on her doorstep was a warning, then it was time to lay all the cards on the table and hope she didn’t shut down on me.
When she returned, she was dressed, and she reached into the pile of clothes and retrieved a pair of fuzzy socks. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she pulled them on as she asked, “Who was that on the phone?”
“I called Roughstock to check in,” I began to explain, and she turned to look at me. “I think we need to talk.”
“Is everything okay?” she asked as she wrung her hands together.
Exhaling, I took off my cut and hung it over the back of my chair then I removed my flannel coat. I had a long-sleeve shirt on with an undershirt beneath it, and after removing the outer shirt, I pulled my boots off and tossed them to the side. The entire time, she watched me intently, and once I was more comfortable, I walked to the bed.
Lifting the pile of still warm clothes into my arms, I placed them onto a chair and took a seat on the bed next to her. The pile of extra pillows and blankets was far enough to the top that I could sit directly next to her, so I took her hand in mine as I started to fill her in.
“I’m going to cover a lot, and I don’t want you to get scared. I swear, I won’t let anything happen to you, but we believe you need all the information to ensure your safety.” She nodded, so I continued. “The contents of the box . . . there was a man named Dozer who did some work for the ranch and hung out at the clubhouse from time to time. He owned a heavy equipment company, and from our best guess, he did some work for someone that may have led to him being killed.”
Her eyes grew glassy, and I took her face into my hands, looking straight into her eyes as I tried to calm her down. “You’re safe, and no one is going to hurt you. You believe that, right?”
I needed to know that she believed I could protect her. That whoever was trying to send a message, threaten her, or worse, didn’t have a chance to get close to her. She nodded, and I kissed her softly and rested my forehead against hers.
“You’re safe with me, and I’ll never let anyone hurt you,” I whispered to her.
Sitting back, she asked, “Am I allowed to ask questions?”
Jackie was smart and intuitive, and it was at that moment, I felt like she may have had the key to the missing piece. And if she did, we were going to end this, so we wouldn’t have to look over our shoulders, worrying someone was after us.
We would be free to live our lives in happiness. And when I thought about it, that’s all I’d ever wanted to begin with, I just never realized it.
Chapter 16
Jackie
Iknew whatever was in that box was bad, but knowing it was someone, or part of them, terrified me. If I hadn’t been wondering around the reservations, documenting the conditions, I wouldn’t have ever discovered that house, taken the picture, and brought about all this pain and heartache.
“This is all my fault, isn’t it?” I asked him, and he shook his head as he took my hands into his again.
“The person at fault is Blur and whoever he recruited to do his dirty work,” Jagger explained, but I still didn’t believe him.
“Two people that we know of are dead. How can you say it’s not my fault?”
“Jackie, darlin’, you were doing something good for your people and you stumbled upon something that needed to be stopped. You had no way of knowing all this would happen, and I need you to stop blaming yourself. I know no one else blames you, and I’m going to tell you something Nitro used to say. Give yourself grace.”
I closed my eyes and tried to push the fear into the recesses of my mind. I refused to be a victim, so when I opened my eyes and looked at Jagger, I tried to channel the strength and courage of my ancestors, knowing they had faced worse than this.
“Can we start at the beginning?” I asked, and he gave me a nod.
Standing up, Jagger grabbed a black leather bag from a chair and came back to the bed. Unzipping the bag, he pulled out his laptop and opened it. After entering a password, he turned back to me while it was starting.
“You took the picture of the house when, four years ago?” he asked.
“Four years and . . .” I held up a finger and stood to retrieve my phone. Opening it up, I checked my calendar and said, “Four years, eight months, and a few days.”
“Okay. So, you were in the back country, taking photos, when you stumbled onto the house. Without knowing it, I believe you uncovered a house where trafficking victims were kept. Maybe long term, maybe for a few days, but whatever the case, after you gave your father the photo, he called Nitro.”
“And then Nitro began looking into the situation, and during his digging, he found their operation and Blur got wind of it. That’s when he . . . attacked Nitro,” I surmised, continuing the timeline.
“For the next few years, we looked for whoever was responsible for Nitro’s death, and I think it was after the connection to the reservation was discovered that Blur got scared and started making impulsive decisions,” Jagger pondered.
“Like kidnapping Cheyenne and that poor girl,” I tacked on, and we both sat silent for a moment. “I don’t want to ask about club business, but I have a few questions.” He rolled his hand, so I asked, “How did Blur discover that Nitro was looking into this? I mean, Phantom didn’t know, he didn’t ask for your help, and he kept Trent in the dark.”
Picking up this laptop, he remarked, “That’s a good question.” He opened a Word document and began to type the question out. “What else is uncertain?”
“Well,” I began and stood. I thought better when I moved around, so I began to pace in front of the bed as I spoke out loud. “Where were the women being sent to? Who’s helping him? Where is Blur now? Why is he moving back this way when the Bastards know he’s got a target on his back?”
“All good questions,” Jagger remarked as he typed away on his computer. “Can I ask something?” I nodded. “Did you recognize the house in the picture that was sent to you?”
I shook my head instinctively but stopped to think about that question. I’d spent the last few years crisscrossing South Dakota and parts of North Dakota, capturing images of the lives of Native Americans on the reservations. I’d seen hundreds—hell, probably thousands—of houses, trailers, and shacks being used for homes.
“Do you still have it?” I asked, and he nodded before standing and retrieving it from the inside pocket of his cut.
He handed it to me and took a seat back on the bed as he watched me inspect the image. I was able to glean some information from it, but not enough to tell where it was.
“This was taken in North Dakota.” He stood and looked as I pointed to the background. “The two states look the same, but North Dakota has more trees. And this is a wildflower native to the north. You may see it close to the border between the states, but I’ve never seen this flower on the south reservations, only the few I’ve visited in the north. And unless something has changed, the permit sticker on this trailer is from North Dakota.”
“Why would someone send you a picture of some random trailers in North Dakota?” I shrugged, and he slipped the picture back into his cut.
“Can we talk about Blur?” I inquired.
Jagger’s face twisted, and I could tell he didn’t want to discuss him, but if we were looking for him and the Bastards still had him under protection, then maybe we needed to dig deeper and figure out why Jamison was protecting him. I’d never met the Royal Bastards National President, but I’d heard he’s a narcistic fucker who thought he was better than everyone else, pushing edicts onto chapters that he didn’t follow himself.
“I’ll tell you what I know, but I don’t think talking about him is going to get us anywhere,” Jagger remarked.
He moved his cut from the back of his chair to a hook on the front door, then he lifted the clothes and placed them back onto the bed. We both took our seats at the table, and I tried to think of where to start.
“The Bastards are still protecting him?” Jagger nodded. “And no one can figure out why?”
“Normally, I won’t walk about club business, but we’re Sinners Revenge now, so speaking of the Royal Bastards isn’t violating my oath.” He took my hands and began to explain. “Jamison, the National President, when presented with the information that Blur was responsible for Nitro’s death, told us to back off and leave him alone. That’s what facilitated the change in colors. We couldn’t figure out why someone like Jamison would protect a random brother from a chapter he never even bothered to step foot into. So, we asked Roughstock’s cousin, Jackal, to speak with his friends and see if he could help us locate Blur.”
“The Callahans?” I asked, and he nodded.
“The brothers were able to uncover a few details about Blur. He was adopted from Mississippi when he was three, and his adoptive parents moved to Louisiana when he was around eight, I think. He left the south and came up this way when he was in his twenties. That was a few years before the purge of the Bastards, when Jamison was run out of the country and quite a few brothers were killed.”
“And Jamison won’t tell Roughstock why he’s protecting Blur?”
“He won’t tell anyone anything. He plays his cards close to his chest, uses people for his own personal gain, then finds new lackies to kiss his ass and make him feel important. Honestly, I met him one time, wasn’t impressed with him, and didn’t care if I ever saw him again.” He paused before speaking again. “The Callahans sent someone to New Orleans to meet with Blur’s adoptive brother, the only family he had left, and his brother was as shocked as you would imagine at hearing what his brother was into.”
“And he didn’t know anything about Jamison?” I asked.
“What are you thinking?” Jagger asked me, but I hesitated before answering.
“If it’s not his adoptive family that connects him to Jamison, could it possibly be his birth family? I mean, what if Blur discovered his real family and uncovered a connection that we’re not seeing?”
He lifted one cheek in a half-smile and leaned over to kiss me softly. “I never gave one thought to his real family.”
He sat back down as I reasoned, “It’s the only piece of the puzzle that doesn’t have any information. I may be far off base, but I would suggest investigating his birth family to see who they are.”
“I’ll send the Callahans a message right now,” Jagger remarked as he pulled his phone out and began typing away.
My mind started spinning, trying to place the house from the picture. On impulse, I stood and grabbed my backpack before returning to my seat. Jagger was watching me as I pulled out my computer and started it.
