Fighter(9)

Jax was rarely serious. The two times I’d seen it hadn’t gone well. The first time he’d put someone in the hospital, and the second was when I ended things between us. I felt a little uneasy, but I pushed that away. I needed to concentrate on what he was about to tell me.

“There’s a warrant for my arrest because I beat up my sister’s boyfriend a while back,” he said. “I was arrested, and I was supposed to go to a court hearing, but I couldn’t that day because Libby decided to go missing. I had to search for her. I was scared she’d gone back to him.”

“To her boyfriend?”

“Yeah.” His jaw firmed. “The guy’s an *, but she’s infatuated with him. He’s nothing but a sniveling little weasel, and he hit her.”

I gasped. “Libby?”

He nodded. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her. She knows he’s bad news, but she keeps going back. This has been going on for a while, but anyways, I found her that night. She was at Monroe’s.”

“What? Why?”

“Trust me. I wasn’t happy either.”

Monroe’s was the closest thing our town had to organized crime. It was a candy shop, but the basement was where the real action occurred. There was an illegal casino, and if Libby was there, I didn’t even want to think what that could mean.

“Her boyfriend’s a weekly customer,” Jax added. “He’s worked up a good debt to them, and Libby was trying to pay it off. She was going to work there—”

“No!”

“I got there in time and promised I’d pay off his debt as long as they don’t let him gamble there anymore.”

“They agreed to that?”

“No.” He shook his head, his shoulders lifting and settling back down as if they carried an unbearable weight. “They didn’t agree to that. But they do want me to fight this weekend, and they promised that if I win, they’ll never touch Libby. She won’t work there. She won’t even be allowed in Monroe’s, and they won’t use her to collect his debt. That’s the best deal I could do.”

“So you have to win the whole thing?”

“Yeah, and now do you see why I can’t go to jail? Even if it’s just for an hour, I can’t risk it. I’ll be disqualified. They’ll know I went in. Someone there helps recruit fighters for the whole thing, so I’ll be ratted out, and I can’t risk it. This is too good of a deal, and Chris Monroe is an all-right guy.”

I nodded. Chris had gone to school with us. He was head of the Monroe crime family now, but Jax was right. Chris had an honor about his criminal life. If he promised something, he’d follow through, and I’d never admitted this to Jax, but I’d always felt like Chris had a thing for Libby. Part of me wondered if he wouldn’t protect Libby anyway, but it was too risky. I knew why Jax was doing what he was doing, and with that, I let out a defeated breath.

Fuck. I was going to help him. I was probably going to jump him in the process, but I was going to help him keep fighting.

“Does that sound mean what I think it means?”

I looked at him, holding his gaze as he kept driving. The corner of his mouth curved up, and the cocky Jax was back in action. He winked at me before turning back to the road. “Thanks Doil—Dale. I mean it.”

“I get to walk you in, though—on Sunday, after your last fight.” That was my only condition.

“Sure. No problem.” He flashed me a smile, one of those heart-stopping and bone-melting ones. “Thank you, Dale. It means a lot to me.”

Well, it should, because I knew we’d have trouble ahead. My brothers were smart and savvy. They were already biting at the bit to get him, but because I was with him now, they’d be worse. I had no clue how to work it so Jax could get in and out of the next match without getting caught. But the other problem—like an annoying, pesky tickle at the base of my spine—was Jax himself. Somehow, in some way, I knew he’d get out of this unscathed, but I wouldn’t. I never did when I spent too much time with him.

I had to help him, but I’d have to help myself too, and that meant keeping a cement wall around my heart.

Jax reached out and patted my leg. Just like that, one touch, and a frenzied need coursed through me. My body grew hot, and I squirmed, wanting that hand to go farther north.

Cement wall, Dale, I told myself. Cement wall around the heart. But as his finger caressed my leg, I already knew a cement wall around my whole body would’ve been pointless. It always had its own mind when it came to Jax Cutler.

Chapter Five

He pulled onto a long and winding gravel road with trees on both sides. When his headlights flashed over them, I could see how thick the forest was. I wanted to ask again where we were going, but I knew Jax wouldn’t tell me. He’d make a smart-ass comment because he didn’t trust me—not fully, not yet.

After a curve in the road, an old house appeared. It was a two-story, and it should’ve been white, but it looked more gray and black from not being washed or painted in so long. Piles of newspapers sat in front of the door on the front porch. A chair and lawn chair were set up next to the papers, but as we drove to the garage in the back, I saw the spider webs covering them with a white film. I wrinkled my nose. I hate spiders. The urge to go over there and start wreaking havoc with a broom, hose, and shovel for all the newspapers had me gripping the door handle. I squeezed it and told myself to leave the spider webs alone. This wasn’t my hideout.