“You’ll learn.”
“And what about things here?”
“I don’t know. That’s up to you, but it doesn’t look like you’ll be leaving much behind.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a card, and offered it to me. “Think about it. If you’re interested, and I can tell you are, come by the clubhouse and meet the other guys. If all goes like I think it will, you’ll start the prospecting process.”
“Prospecting?”
“Just get to the clubhouse. The sooner the better.”
With that, the four men got on their motorcycles, roared out of my driveway, and disappeared into the horizon. Once I was certain they were gone, I glanced back at my so-called home and listened to my father and Eugene carry on about the game on the TV. I didn’t have a bad life. I had a roof over my head, and my father wasn’t the greatest, but he was mine. It was enough, but I wanted more. I had my chance for more, and I damn well was gonna take it.
Menace
“What the hell happened?”
“It’s nothing.”
“The fuck it is.” I sat there looking at the bruises and cuts on my brother’s knuckles and the gash on his cheek, and it was all I could do to keep myself from completely losing it. I knew Jagger could hold his own. Anyone could see that. At six-five and two-hundred and seventy pounds of pure muscle, the guy was a fucking beast. His dark, shaggy hair had grown long, making him look even more vicious, and with his Ruthless Sinners’ tattoo sprawled across his massive bicep, it was hard to believe anyone would dare to fuck with him. Enraged by the whole damn thing, I slammed my hand down on the table and growled, “This kind of shit isn’t supposed to happen. You’re under club protection!”
“And that protection comes at a cost.” Jagger remained perfectly calm. “Deluca has put his neck out for me more times than I can count. Last night, it was time for me to return the favor.”
“What the fuck happened?”
“I handled it.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means, I’m handling things, so stop worrying about it and let it fucking go.” His coal-black eyes grew fierce as he leaned over the table and barked, “And while you’re at it, stop with all the fucking visits, brother. You got a life. Don’t be wasting it by coming out here. Go live it.”
“Not gonna happen, brother. I’m gonna keep on coming here week after week until you get out of this godforsaken place and don’t say a fucking word about it ’cause we both know you’d do the same for me.”
Jagger didn’t argue because he knew I was right. He would’ve come to see me as often as he could. That was just the kind of man he was. Jagger had no business being behind bars. He was a good guy who’d found himself in an impossible situation. His sister, Stacey, was a known drug addict and all-around troublemaker, but Jagger always stood by her and helped out any way he could, trying his damnedest to make up for the sins of their mother and father.
None of us were surprised when she’d gotten herself tied up with a short-fused, loser boyfriend. One night, the two wound up in a heated argument and things got out of hand. Knowing Jagger would come rushing to her rescue, Stacey called her brother, pleading for his help. By the time he’d arrived at her place, Stacey was hysterical. She was covered in cuts and bruises, her lip was busted, and her wrist was broken. Jagger had lost it. He’d laid into the boyfriend and didn’t let up until the guy was no longer breathing. The cops came, and Jagger was arrested for voluntary manslaughter.
The guy was in a difficult position—one any of us could’ve found ourselves in. Hell, I would’ve done the same fucking thing if Mallory called to tell me she was in trouble. We’d hoped that considering the circumstance, he’d get off a little easier, but after an agonizing hearing, he was sentenced to six years in prison with the opportunity for parole in four. It could’ve been worse, much worse, but I couldn’t stop myself from feeling guilty for not doing more to keep him out of this fucking hellhole altogether.
Jagger shook his head as he grumbled, “Stubborn ass.”
“Damn straight.”
Deciding it was time to change the subject, he asked, “How are things going down at the club?”
“Good. Busier than ever. So much so, we’ve decided to hire a couple more girls to the lineup.”
“That’s gotta be tough,” Jagger mocked. “Having to check out all those hot chicks for the guys.”
“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
“You realize you’re saying that to a man who hasn’t seen an ass or a set of tits in almost three years.”
“Damn.” I grimaced. “Sorry, brother. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Don’t sweat it. I was just fucking with ya.”
“Yeah, but I know that shit can’t be easy.” Since he opened that door, I used the opportunity to ask, “Have you seen or talked to Sadie lately?”
Sadie was Jagger’s ol’ lady. They’d been together since high school and were good together. Where he was standoffish and often hard-edged, she was sweet and outgoing. She kept him grounded, and he loved her for that. We all thought they’d end up married with kids and the whole nine yards, but after a few months of Jagger behind bars, they’d called it quits. He’d never admit it, but we all knew it wasn’t an easy decision for him. He loved her, and they could’ve had a real future together, but being in prison changed him. The longer Jagger was locked up, the more closed off he became. He tried to convince himself and everyone else that he no longer wanted any part of the outside world. His face was void of expression when he answered, “You know I haven’t.”
“Because you pushed her away.”
“She had no business hanging on to me or to what we had. That shit ended the second I was put behind bars.” Anguish marked his face. “We had a good thing, but it’s over. Been over for a long time. Seeing or talking to her isn’t gonna change that.”
Before I could say anything more, the guard called out, signaling our time was up. Jagger quickly stood, then bro-slapped my bicep. “Guess that’s my cue. It was good to see ya, brother.”
“Good to see you too.” When he started to walk away, I called out to him, “Take care of yourself back there, and let us know if you need anything.”
“You know I will.”
I waited until he was out of view before going back through security. As soon as I made it out to the parking lot, I got on my bike and headed to Stilettos. I had a long day ahead of me, and I wanted to get an early start on the bar inventory. On the way over, I couldn’t stop thinking about Jagger. I hated that he was stuck in that fucking place when any one of us would’ve done the same thing in his situation. It was a no-win predicament, but I wasn’t giving up. I’d keep at it until I found some way to get him out of there.
Thoughts of Jagger were still rattling through my head when I pulled up to the back door of the club. I was so out of sorts I didn’t notice Hawk in the parking lot until he called out to me, “Yo, Menace. What are you doing here? I thought you were going out to see Jagger.”