Full Contact (Redemption #3)(31)
Jess licks her lips. “Sounds delicious.”
We stop at the edge of the parking lot and Blade Saw slides his arm around Jess’s waist as we chat about the fights. Rampage is desperate to get into the ring but afraid of getting caught and ruining his fledgling amateur career. One of the few super heavyweights in the league, Rampage has a good shot at the amateur title, and he doesn’t want to mess it up.
“Hey, Tag. Didn’t know you were here.” Rampage steps to the side to let Tag join our group and peppers him with questions about what he thought of the fight. Jess and I share a puzzled glance. Tag never comes to the fights because they remind him of what he lost when his shoulder didn’t heal properly, and he had to drop out of the amateur circuit.
When Rampage pauses to catch his breath, I pull Tag to the side. “What are you doing here?”
“Heard about the fight. Knew you’d be here. Mom told me she’d borrowed your car for the day, so I came to give you a lift home.”
“And you watched the fights?”
“Yeah.” He glances over at Jess with Blade Saw’s arm around her waist and his jaw tightens.
“You okay?” My question is directed at him watching the fight, but as I catch him watching Jess, I wonder if he thinks I’m asking something else.
“Yeah.” He takes a step away from me to rejoin the group. “Jess? You with Blade Saw?” He interrupts Rampage midsentence and everyone startles.
Jess swallows and I feel her pain. Tag has barely spoken to her in years, much less noticed her, and now, when she’s finally sort of hooked up with someone, he decides to pay attention. “Uh…yeah.”
“I lucked out, man.” Blade Saw pulls Jess into his side and presses a kiss to her temple. A pained expression crosses Tag’s face.
“Well then,” I say too loudly. “I was going to ride in Rampage’s Hummer, but it looks like I get to be a criminal again today.” Only then do I notice Tag is not in uniform. But then, he couldn’t show up in uniform at an unsanctioned fight without scaring everyone away.
“Cuff me, Officer. Or am I just a regular citizen today?” I hold out my hands wrists together, but Tag doesn’t laugh at my joke.
Instead he draws in a ragged breath and then turns away. “Let’s get going.”
We wave good-bye to Rampage, Jess, and Blade Saw, and I follow Tag across the street. “She wanted you for years, Tag. I told you. But you didn’t pay any attention to her. You said you weren’t interested. What was she supposed to do? Wait forever?”
Tag jerks to a stop but doesn’t turn. “I’m happy for her. Really. I’ve got too much going on right now to be getting involved with anyone. This case I’m working on is taking all my time and it’s really tearing me up. I can’t even look after myself, much less someone else, and emotionally, I got nothing left at the end of the day.”
“If you ever want to talk about it, you know I won’t tell anyone.”
He sucks in his lips and sighs. “You’re the one person I can’t talk to about it.”
“Well, thanks for coming to get me.” I put my arm around his waist and give him a squeeze. “You didn’t have to do it, especially the way you feel about the fights. There’s always someone around to take me home.”
“Gotta look out for my sis.” He squeezes me back and we let each other go. “Only one I got.”
We walk in silence down the road, and I spot Tag’s Pathfinder parked across the street under a street lamp, only seconds before I see Ray heading toward us along the sidewalk. He’s wearing jeans, tight in all the right places, and a gray T-shirt with a UFC logo on the front. Even slightly disheveled, he takes my breath away, and my heart ties itself in a knot when he stops in front of us. Is this a chance encounter, or was he looking for me? What should I say? Thankfully, Tag steps into the awkward silence.
“Good fight. No. Great fight. If anyone deserved that pounding, it was Misery.” He dissects the fight, asking Ray about particular moves and strategies. Ray just shrugs and says he knew what Misery did to Makayla and Amanda, and the minute he got in the ring, all he could think about was pounding on Misery until he was mush. No strategy involved.
Of course, this does not go down well with Tag, who teaches about control and strategy in all his classes. He gestures me to his vehicle. “We’d better get going.”
“I thought it was a great fight,” I say to Ray after my tongue untangles. “I watched every minute.”
“I know.”
“You saw me?”
“I always see you.” His deep voice rumbles through me, warming me to my toes. “You want…I’ll take you home. I’ve got my bike.”
“No motorcycles.” Tag glares, first at Ray and then at me. “First, you can’t ride without a helmet. It’s against the law in California. Second, motorcycles are dangerous. The coroner’s office has shelves lining the walls filled with motorcycle helmets from accidents. Look what happened last time.”
“Last time?” Ray frowns.
“She has a reckless side,” Tag says. “When she was seventeen, she started seeing some biker wannabe. I told her not to go, but she didn’t listen. He took her up to Napa Valley at eighty miles an hour and then crashed his bike on the way down. Only reason they weren’t killed was ’cause they were wearing helmets. Sia was so badly bruised up, she couldn’t go to school for a week.”