Fighter(10)

Jax parked right before the garage and hopped out. He left my pepper spray, handcuffs, and stun gun in the truck and came around to my side. The door opened, and before I could say a word, he pulled me out of the truck and cradled me against his chest.

Well. His chest had cooled during the drive, and I pressed a hand against him, feeling his heart pick up its pace. This was lovely. I refused to look up. I could feel his eyes, and there was no way I was going to get pulled into his web. It could get sticky, and I’d probably not want to leave.

He carried me inside and set me on the kitchen counter before going back outside. I glanced around, but the room was still dark. I couldn’t see much. Jaxon came back in with a bag over his shoulder, which he tossed to the side, then flicked the lights on. I looked around a cramped kitchen with dirty dishes in the sink. There were bread crumbs on the counter, and Jax scooped them off, letting them fall from his hand over the garbage. He flashed me a half-smile, going to the refrigerator. “You want a beer?”

“Tell me you don’t live here.” There were two couches in the living room, both covered by blankets to hide the cushions. But the blankets didn’t cover the bottoms of the couches, and I could see the insides hanging out. Just looking around the place, I could feel my allergies kick into high. “Jax, if a piece of mold grew legs and scurried under this table, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“It’s not that bad.” He grabbed two beers and handed one to me. Leaning back against the counter, he dipped his head back, taking a long swallow from his bottle. As he did, I looked away. A man shouldn’t be that beautiful just taking a drink. “Besides, this is your fault,” he added.

“Mine?”

He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and pointed his bottle to me. “Yep. I had a better place to hide out today, but your brothers found me. Thanks to you, I was ousted. Besides, this is just for the weekend, and I needed a place where no one would find me.” He spread his arms out. “Voila. Casa de Jaxon’s Hideouto was birthed.”

I made a throwing-up sound. “We can’t stay here. Whose place is this?”

He shrugged. “I have no idea. I asked Lady G for a place I could hide, and she gave me this address.”

“Lady G?” This went from worse to the worst, if that made sense. “You asked your grandmother? Is she in town?”

“Nah.” He chuckled, taking another drink from his beer. “She’s on some cruise, but she asked around. I told her it had to be low key.”

“You told her about the warrant?”

He nodded. “And about Libby and the Monroes’ promise.”

Mold and dust came over me in waves. I was starting to struggle to breathe, and a headache had formed at the base of my skull. I shook my head to clear it. “Wait a minute. Let me get this straight…what about the money? If you win?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Chris said I could keep it. I’m assuming they’re betting on me.”

“Or they’re going to have you throw it?”

“What?” He looked dumbfounded. “No f*cking way that’s happening. I fight. I win. That’s what Jax Cutler does.”

“And.” My eyebrows shot up. “Follow the bouncing balls.” Lifting my finger in the air, I pretended to point them out. “Dot, dot, dot. You’re known for winning. That’s your reputation. They told you to fight. They’re going to get in touch with you right before the game and make you throw it. I bet you anything.”

He snorted. “No way. I mean, yes, I love my sister, but I have some dignity. My reputation would be down the drain then.”

There had to be a way to fix all of this. Then a light bulb went off, and I snapped my fingers in the air. “Do what they want.”

“Throw it? Are you serious?” He gave me an incredulous look.

“Yes. Do it for Libby.” I shot a finger up in the air. “But, challenge the winner afterward to another fight.”

His eyebrows furrowed together. One of his hands lifted to rub at his jaw. “And Chris Monroe?”

“You did what he wanted, or what we’re assuming he’ll want. I mean, hello? Chris is going to want to make money. Having you fight is a no-brainer. You’ll win. Everyone will be betting on you, but if you challenge the winner the next weekend, you could win back your reputation and maybe even some money.”

“The pot was fifty thousand.” He sounded wounded. “I’m going to lose out on that money.”

“Jax.” I snapped my fingers. “Libby.” Did I need to say more?

He sighed and finished his beer. “I know.” He tossed the bottle into the garbage, a clean shot, and reached for my beer. I hadn’t drank from it, and he took it out of my hands. “Just let me have a minute,” he added. “There’s a man’s ego at risk here. I’m going to have to take a beating.”

“Literally.” I flashed him a grin.

He nodded. “Exactly, but I’ll be fine. I’ll regroup. I’ll slam the f*cker back down, whoever beats me, and Libby will be safe. All is good.”

“And I’ll get to take you to jail that night.”

“You’re right. You win too.”

“Uh-huh.” My head bobbed up and down, but as we talked, darker sensations had begun to stir in me again. I felt the air grow thick with tension, and I was engulfed by nerves, excitement, lust—all that bang and buck together. It was like my body knew the talking was nearing an end and had started to remind me how much it wanted that man again.