Chapter FOUR
Jagger Stromm didn’t want to go out that night. He had a strange feeling that something was off. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but being someone in the seat of such power, he was accustomed to these feelings of clairvoyance. After all, it was his ability to stay three steps ahead that kept him at the top.
He peered around his bedroom. He had kept the blinds drawn all day. Business from the night before needed his attending to and he didn’t end up stumbling in until 10 a.m. There was a woman in his bed. He didn’t know her name. He didn’t care. He didn’t actually remember if he had slept with her or not. He shook her. She didn’t wake up. He shook her again, more violently this time. She moaned and rolled over, but seemed to have no intention of waking up.
She was pretty: blonde, short hair, thin, and full breasts. He liked breasts. He liked to grab them, and pull them, and bite them. He felt himself growing, ready to take this woman as she slept, but decided against it. This time. Although he was physically attracted to her, he felt nothing. He never felt anything. He had grown too comfortable turning his emotions off. In his business, he couldn’t afford to care about people outside of his club. They were his family, the only ones who mattered. Everyone else was trash.
He decided he couldn’t stay in his house while this woman was taking over his bed. He snuck out of the bedroom and into the vast living room. Jagger stood in the window, baring his nakedness and gazing at a patch of trees near his house silhouetting in the moonlight. No one could see in, and there were no other houses for miles. Still, if they came wandering by, he’d be happy to show them. He was proud of his body. He was proud of the man he had become, and he wasn’t planning on hiding that from anyone.
He found his way to the casino, still feeling on edge. Something big was going to happen; he could feel it. As per usual, when he entered into a room, people stared. He was, by any account, a striking man; his disheveled hair hung around his high cheekbones and strong, chiseled chin. He had just a hint of stubble, deciding not to shave that evening, for fear that the sound of his razor would awaken the blonde woman, and he would be forced into an awkward conversation.
He looked around the room, contemplating his first table. Then he noticed her out of the corner of his eye, a dealer he'd never seen before. She was beautiful—her long, shining hair, olive skin, almond shaped eyes, and that blood red dress. There was something familiar about her, something that he was drawn to. He caught her gaze and their eyes locked. Britton. It was Britton. How did she find him here?
Her heart began to race as he approached the table. Did he realize who she was? He flashed that exact same smile she remembered seeing the last time they were together.
Britton wanted to run. She wanted to call the whole thing off and never come back, but she couldn’t. This was what she had been waiting for, and training for. She was an FBI agent after all.
Jagger cautiously sat down in front of her. He wanted to gauge her reaction. Being the head of a giant crime syndicate, he could never be too careful. Still, this was Britton. This was his first love, his only love. But why was she here? Things weren’t adding up—it would be too much of a coincidence. Plus, he knew she had gotten out of Nevada. Why would she ever come back and drudge up all the shit from her past?
She gave him no reaction to gauge; she just politely smiled as he sat down. Did she not remember him? That seemed impossible. He thought about her all the time; all the time. He replayed the night of the accident as he looked into her eyes.
She was breathtaking. At sixteen, he had never seen a more beautiful woman, and she was all his. They'd known each other for eleven years, and in those eleven years he had watched her blossom into a strong, powerful, and stunning creature. He stared at her from across the room. He knew she was trying to get his attention. He knew all her ‘laughs’ were to make him jealous. Okay, he thought to himself, let’s get out of here. He recognized he shouldn’t have gotten behind the wheel. He had been steadily drinking for the past four hours. Still, he wanted her. He wanted to be inside her. He needed to take her to their secret place. He needed to take her now. That single thought glazed over his realization that he was too drunk to drive. Besides, he knew those roads. What was the worst that could happen?
He loved when she took control. She climbed on top of him, teasing him. He felt the car glide around the curve. He was hydroplaning. Jagger panicked, slamming on the brakes, and sending them straight into a tree. Britton was thrown from his lap, into the windshield.
He opened his eyes. Where was she? Why was it so dark? Where was she? He managed to open the collapsed door and slide his body out. He reached inside, fishing for her. He grasped her shoulders and pulled, cradling her in his arms. He had to get away. His affiliation with the biker club had already landed him in juvie a number of times. Now he was eighteen. He was legal. This time could land him in prison. He would take Britton and flee the scene.
Jagger took a step forward and crumbled to the ground. His leg was broken. There was no way he could carry her. He had to leave her there, alone. It would be the hardest decision he ever had to make, but there was no other choice. Jagger laid her down on the pavement, clearing away the shards of glass. He lowered his face to hers and lightly kissed her goodbye. He choked back an audible sob. He would call the cops as soon as he could get to a phone. He would make sure she was safe, even if it was from afar.
As he sat in front of her, Britton could see the confusion in his eyes. Did he recognize her? Had he been with so many women in the past ten years that he would forget his first? She wouldn’t have been surprised, especially having read his file. He was a womanizer, always surrounded by beautiful, leggy, big chested women. She didn’t let this shake her. She was there to do a job.
“Place your bets.”
Jagger put down a hundred dollars. While this was a hefty amount for a single bet, she didn’t think it gave him the right to confine himself to the high roller room. She placed a 7 and a 2 in front of him and, in front of herself, she placed a 6 up-card and a hole-card face down. They stared at each other. He put down another hundred dollars to double-down on his bet, his 9 against her 6, a sound bet to make. This, surprisingly, was cautious for him, Jagger was known to play $500 minimum hands, but he still wasn’t sure about the situation he was getting himself into tonight. He knew nothing about her anymore, and he didn’t think she knew anything about him. For the first time in his career, since the last time he saw her, he felt ashamed. He didn’t want to tell her what his job description entailed, or that he hadn't changed for the better—only gotten worse.
“Double.” His voice rattled her.
“Good move.” She was able to hide the shaking in her voice.
He nodded, looking her square in the eye.
She handed him a third card, and he smiled. She flipped over a 10, adding his cards up to nineteen. She flipped her hidden hole-card, revealing a jack and totaling 16 for the dealer. She still had to take another card.
“Monkey, monkey, monkey. ” He chanted, excited by the 16 laying in front of her.
She pulled a card swiftly from the shoe and flipped over a 5 to make 21. The House won. She reached forward to collect his offering just as he shot his hand out and grabbed hold of her wrist. A pain shot through her body. It was worse than she remembered. Britton had forgotten how much she yearned for him. She ached for him. This touch made her want to scream out. She quickly inhaled and innocently stared into his eyes.
“Where did you go?” he queried.
“I’m sorry?” She said, feigning confusion.
“Britton. Where did you go when you left Nevada eight years ago?”
“I went to college. Now let go of me.”
Her tone surprised him. No one spoke to him like that. He wasn’t quite sure how to take it. He felt his blood boil; it had been so long since anyone dared to defy him. He felt the sickening urge hit her, the way he hit anyone who spoke out of line, but the feeling quickly passed. He stood up, towering over her. She had forgotten how tall he was. At six feet and five inches, he was practically a foot taller than her. She'd once felt safe around him, but now, with the look of rage gleaming in his eyes, she couldn’t help but feel frightened.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to grab you.”
She continued to deal the cards, and he continued to bet. Sometimes he won, and sometimes the house claimed its edge.
“Why did you come back?”
“I had nowhere else to go.”
“And you’re working here now?”
“It pays the bills.”
He didn’t want her to work. He wanted to take care of her. He wanted to support her the way he always dreamed he would. He fought the urge to tell her to quit and that he would take care of her. They knew so little about each other. Jagger wanted to change that.
“What have you been up to?”
She knew she had to lie. She had spent the last year and a half fabricating her cover story, but at this point, she just wanted to tell him the truth.
“After college I was living in D.C. It was fine, but it didn’t feel like home, so I came back here. I’ve been here for three years, and working at this casino for the last year and a half.”
She couldn’t believe that was all she could muster up of her story. She had planned the whole thing, including boyfriends, and travel in Europe, and finding herself back here only because her car had broken down. But she couldn’t lie to him. Even if she did leave out some important information, she still told him the truth.
“What about you?”
He wanted to boast. He wanted to tell her about his amazing house, his cars, his power, and his family. But, he was a criminal. He knew that what his family did was wrong, and he didn’t want to disappoint her. He didn’t mean to fall into the leadership position, but he climbed that ladder so quickly that he didn’t even realize how deep in he was until he had taken over the president’s chair.
“I have people here who care about me. It’s all I ever wanted.”
He didn’t lie. It was the honest truth. Britton felt like a knife jabbed into to her stomach. It hurt so much that this criminal, this man who had left his girlfriend on the ground after he crashed into a tree, had people who loved him, and she had no one. She forced a smile.
“That’s wonderful, Jagger.” It hurt to say his name. Her lips were stinging. She couldn’t do this. She wanted to sneak away and call David. He would know what to do.
“My shift is up. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She walked out, slammed her back against the stairwell wall, and sunk to the ground. She didn’t even say goodbye. She had failed. Britton would never find out what was truly going on inside his organization. She might as well give up now instead of waste everyone’s time. She dialed David’s number.
“Hello.”
“Hey.”
“Britton, are you okay?”
“Not really.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No…” she looked down at her wrist. It was still red.
“What happened?”
“I couldn’t do it. I froze.” She began to cry. She couldn’t help it.
“Did you reveal yourself as an agent?”
“No, no, I didn’t say much of anything. I just told him my shift was over.”
“Britton, do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Get back in there.”
“I already left. I’ll look stupid.”
“You could never look stupid.”
It was a silly line, but still comforting to hear. She needed some comfort.
“I feel like I failed you.”
“You could never fail me. This is hard work. You are up against your past. I wouldn’t have offered this case to you if I didn’t think you could do it. What, did you actually expect to get all your answers in one night?”
“Yes.”
“Well, at least you set high standards.” he laughed.
Britton laughed through her sobs. She felt better after talking to him. She could go back in there. She just needed a few minutes to breath, and maybe a compact to fix her mascara now.
“I can do this.”
“I know you can.”
“Thank you.”
Just then, the door swung open, and Jagger loomed over her. His eyes softened as he saw the tears streaming down her face. He missed her. He missed her touch. He missed the smell of her hair. And he missed this. He missed how they'd always helped each other through the hard times.
“David, I’ll talk to you later.”
She hung up the phone and looked up at him. A rush of jealousy spread throughout his body. Who was David? And why was he talking to Britton? She’s mine! He took a breath. She wasn’t his any longer. He had given up that privilege ten years ago. Why was he jealous? He calmed himself and slouched down across from her.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it's just so difficult to see you again, and especially in these circumstances.”
“It's difficult for me too.”
Britton wanted to ask him why he had left her. It was the only answer she truly cared about, but she knew if she asked, it would seem as though she had spent half her life suffering by his hand. She couldn’t let that side of her show.
“So you’re a high roller now, huh?” She chuckled.
“I like to gamble, and you have to bet big to win big.”
He reached over and wiped away her tears with his rough hand. She wanted to follow that hand. She didn’t want it to leave her skin. She fought the urge to purse her lips and kiss his palm. But she didn’t. She held firm. He continued.
“You know, seeing you like this reminds me of the first time we met.”
“Ha, what a day, huh?”
“Do you see this?” He pulled down his shirt over his shoulder, uncovering a colossal scar. Every time I look in the mirror, I am reminded of that day. I am reminded of you.”
Why didn’t you take me with you? She wanted to scream. Instead she reached out and grabbed his hands in hers. It was comforting, and it felt like home. She had forgotten what that was like, but this was for show. She had the upper hand, and she would use it to her advantage.
As they sat there together in the stairwell, Britton silently recalled the night they met:
Britton had just heard the news. She bolted from her house, and didn’t stop until she hit the far away patch of trees she would stare at from her sixth floor window. She had never been there, but always dreamed of stealing away to that place, far from her family. She was only five, but she knew what it felt like to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. Her parents had been out all night. Every cent they made went to feed their lifestyle of top shelf liquor and outrageous gambling.
At first it was fun. They would exchange stories of what they would do when they won the jackpot. Britton planned vacations and looked at gorgeous mansions in the real estate section of the newspaper. She had such high hopes, but pretty soon it became apparent that their dream would never come to fruition and her parents were not equipped to care for them. Two adults and six kids were all living in a two-room apartment, and her parents spent every dime at the casinos. No dreams of jackpots would ever change that reality.
That morning, her older brother was preparing to go to school. He had a project to present, and he was very excited about it. The kids couldn’t wake up their parents; they were passed out. Mateo knew the way to school and decided to walk himself. On his way, a group of teenagers involved in a gang initiation shot and killed him. He was only six. That was the moment that Britton swore to one day leave Nevada and never look back.
She ran deeper into the trees, coming across an old stone fireplace. She stopped, catching her breath, and slowly stepped forward. A twig cracked under her shoes, causing her to jump back. Then she heard a voice.
“Hello?”
“Hello? Who’s there?”
A little boy, no older than seven, peeked out from behind the fireplace. He had been crying. Their faces were the same color: bright blush-red. Britton extended her hand.
“Hi. My name is Britton. I’ve had a rough day. How about you?”
“I’m Jagger. I’ve had a rough day too.”
He reached his hand out to grab hers, and she noticed the massive wound across his shoulder.
“What happened?”
He hesitated, but decided to show her the cuts across his thighs, the gashes under his chin, and the cigarette burns on his back. He said his dad had a very stressful job, so when Jagger stepped out of line, he got angry. He blamed himself.
It was an instant friendship, one based out of a need for a real, loving family. They vowed to meet each other every day at their secret place.