Jagger (Broken Doll Book 2) (17 page)

I turned the corner into the kitchen slash living area, which seemed to be the only room on the bottom floor, and stopped. Jag was on the phone, hissing his extreme displeasure to whoever was on the other end while standing in front of the stove and stirring something that smelled wonderful. Frank and another man I didn’t recognize were hunched over a bunch of computer equipment that was taking up half the kitchen table.

No one noticed me.

Heart pounding, I crossed the room, ignoring the shocked stares of Jag’s employees, until I was at Jag’s side. I felt his muscles tense and his conversation came to an abrupt halt. Jag growled as he ended the call.

“I’ll talk to you about this blatant screw-up later. This is
not
over.” He slid the phone into his pocket and pulled me into his arms, hugging me with such tenderness, it was difficult to believe he threatened someone a second earlier. “Good morning, doll. Hungry?” My stomach growled again and my face flamed hot. Jag laughed and kissed my forehead. “I’ll take that as a yes. Why don’t you sit and I’ll bring you some juice while the eggs finish cooking.”

I didn’t want to leave his side. Having been apart for almost two weeks, plus those horrible days spent as a prisoner with Cat, the last thing I wanted was space between us. Jag misread my hesitation as nervousness around the other men.

“Leave,” he barked sharply. I jumped and almost fell down.

Frank and the other guy scrambled to their feet and vanished. Pasting a smile back on his face, Jag gently guided me to the table and pushed me into a chair. Before I could say a word, I had a glass of orange juice in front of me and Jag was scooping scrambled eggs onto a plate and buttering a slice of toast.

“Is there any coffee?” I asked, glancing at the countertops until my eye landed on a half-filled pot.

Jag placed his own plate on the table and sat next to me. “Coffee is bad for the baby,” he said before digging into his breakfast, avoiding my gaze.

Okaaaay
.

Jag was acting weird. His body was stiff and his movements rigid, completely lacking the fluid grace he usually possessed, plus Jag wouldn’t look at me. We still hadn’t discussed anything—the baby, my escape from his protective detail, showing up here, what would happen next. The tension was so palpable, the few inches between us may as well have been a bottomless chasm.

He was pissed. No not pissed. Jag was furious.

“Jag, I—”

“What the fuck were you thinking, Miri?” I flinched at his harsh tone, recoiling as if he’d slapped me across the face. Blinking, I struggled to keep the tears at bay. “You shouldn’t be here, especially with…” Jag pointed at my stomach with his fork. “This is no place for you.”

I knew Jag didn’t mean to hurt my feelings. I knew he was overwhelmed. I knew he was lashing out because he was afraid for me, for the safety of the baby. But knowing it didn’t make it hurt any less. My lip trembled and I ducked my head so Jag wouldn’t see how much his words stung.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, Miri.” A warm, rough hand landed on my bare thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. As always, I melted under his touch. Jag’s other hand brushed the underside of my chin, tilting my face toward his. “I’m sorry, doll. I’m just…” He huffed in frustration. “I want you with me more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. I just don’t want you
here
, in the line of fire. If anything were to happen to you or…” Jag’s eyes flicked down to my abdomen and back up.

“I’m sorry. I-I needed you to know about the baby.” Moisture trickled down my cheek. “I was afraid. Afraid you’d hate me for getting pregnant, for forcing you into being a father. But if something happened to you and I hadn’t told you…” I choked on a sob. “I was hoping, if you knew, that maybe…” My throat tightened and a thick band cinched around my ribcage.

“You hoped if I knew about the baby, I would forget about killing El Cuchillo and leave?”

Jag’s blue eyes glistened with love. He put both hands on my cheeks and framed my face, his long fingers spanning all the way to the nape of my neck. His thumbs brushed across the pulse points on my throat in a move so sexy and possessive, if I had been standing my knees would have buckled. I clung to his forearms, the corded muscles tense beneath my hands. Jag tilted my head to the side and lowered his mouth to mine, the kiss soft at first. I wasn’t sure who moaned, but the ragged, needy sound set my body on fire. I shifted to the edge of my chair and tried to deepen the kiss, but Jag untangled my hands and pushed me back into my seat.

“Finish your food. You need to eat more.” I wasn’t hungry, but didn’t want to upset Jag any more than he already was, so I slowly ate everything on my plate. “Good. Now, I need you to go upstairs and wait. I called George to send someone to get you.”

I shot to my feet. “What? No!”

Jag stood and shoved his chair back, the feet scraping on the old wood floor. He towered over me, angled chin jutting out, jaw twitching. “This is not negotiable, Miri. I will not have you here while I’m luring in the man who kidnapped, tortured, and violated what is mine!” He put his hand on the back of my neck and squeezed, hard enough for me to feel it as he steered me toward the staircase.

“No, please. Don’t make me leave.” I dug in my heels and tried to turn around, but the pressure of Jag’s fingers pushing into my flesh held me in place. When I refused to climb the stairs, Jag swept my legs out from under me and slung me over his shoulder. “Stop! Don’t do this.” I struggled, uselessly hitting his back with my fists.

Jag deposited me on the bed and half-climbed on top of me, our noses almost touching. The look on his face was almost feral. His blue eyes were wild, his lip curled in a sneer showing a hint of teeth. “You are leaving. This is not a request and it’s not a question for you to answer because I’m not fucking asking. It’s an order. I insist you not be here, Miri.”

He backed off the bed before the first tears fell, hot and angry down my cheeks. The door clicked shut and I was alone. Always alone. Inside, I knew it was fear for my safety that drove Jag to the edge of his control. He would never hurt me physically. As much as my rational side knew he loved me, it still felt like rejection when he demanded I leave his side.

I lay on the bed for an hour or so, my hands resting over my midsection while I wondered what our baby would be like. Would he look like Jag? Tall and dark and intimidating? Or would she be small and freckled with red hair? Despite all of the horrors that happened the last few months, I couldn’t wait to meet the child we conceived amidst the chaos.

If Jag cared about the baby even half as much as he cared for me, it would have more love than anyone needed in a lifetime. Jag would be a wonderful father. I didn’t doubt that for one minute. Despite his rough and violent past—despite his fears of being inherently evil and undeserving, despite the streets he came from, the gang he grew up with, and how he had to live his life to survive—I trusted my lover with my life and that of our child, without question. We both had our sins, and as far as I was concerned, we’d both paid enough penance for ten lifetimes.

I took a deep breath and slid off the bed. After a quick trip to the bathroom for a minor bout of nausea—but thankfully no vomiting—I sat on the mattress and fidgeted, unsure how to let Jag know I would do what he wanted. I wouldn’t fight him on this and would go back to the hotel to stay safe. Jag was only sending me away because he loved me, and because I loved him, I would do it… for him.

“
I
can’t fucking believe
she came here,” I muttered as I walked the small length of the main living area, turned and doubled back. “Son of a bitch!”

“Are you sure you want to wait for George, Boss?” Frank asked, watching me pace, his eyes betraying his uneasiness. “I can leave now and take her back. Or Sammy could if you want me here as backup when El Cuchillo shows up.”

“Fuck… No.” I ran my hands through my hair, clasping them behind my neck. “No. I mean, I want her the hell out of town as soon as possible, but I need both of you here to confront that little bastard. No way am I leaving it to chance that he gets away again.” My emotions were betraying me, something I still wasn’t used to. Usually, I was cold, calm, and without concern. Miri changed everything. I couldn’t stop caring about her any more than I could will my heart to stop beating.

My phone buzzed with an incoming text. I whipped it out of my pocket as soon as possible. “George is an hour out.” Frank nodded.

“Boss, we got a problem.” Sammy was sitting at the table across the room in the kitchen, staring at one of his screens. His typical clinical way of speaking was off. Fuck, if Sammy was worried…

Crack!

The front door flew off its hinges as splintered wood flew everywhere. I had no time to react before hearing the loud gunshot. Frank fell to the ground behind me, blood staining his shirt at his shoulder.

Not a fatal wound. I tensed and turned back to the gaping front door, meeting the savage stare of a madman.

“
Hijo de tu puta madre!
You ruined me! I am going to kill you.”

Instinct overtook my rational mind, the primal part of my brain bursting to the surface, ready to protect my family—Miri and my child. I faced El Cuchillo head-on, feet braced shoulder-width apart, hands fisted, muscles tense and at the ready. I flexed my wrists, somewhat soothed by the tight sheaths with their blades tucked inside.

“Fuck you, you asshole!” I roared, sick and fucking tired of this piece of shit’s games. He came here to confront me, then he could damn well fight me like a man.

Cuchillo aimed the barrel at my head. “Move out of the way and tell me where you are hiding the cunt.”

The monster inside snarled at the sound of Miri’s name falling from Cuchillo’s lips. That, along with the slur he aimed at my doll, had the monster begging to rip into his flesh, spill his blood, and spit on his lifeless corpse. “Over my dead fucking body.”

A gruesome smile twisted his face. The man no longer looked human. He was disheveled, blood misted on his previously white shirt. His hair was sticking up in all directions. Life on the run hadn’t been kind to the motherfucker. Good.

“I will make that happen soon,
cabrón
. After I slowly kill the
puta
in front of you.” He took a step forward and I readied my hands to catch my blades. He would have time to shoot me, but I could still take him out before he could get to Miri. I meant what I said about him having to kill me to get to her. At that moment I cared nothing about my own life, only hers. “Now where is she?”

Just because I was willing to die, didn’t mean I would make this easy for him. A low growl rumbled in my chest. “She’s not here. You’ll never touch her again, Cuchillo. I’m going to tear you apart.” I stepped toward the man, trying to throw him off his game and get close enough to ensure my aim would be accurate.

Cuchillo grinned again, this one even more hideous than the previous. He scoffed, waving his hand in the air. “You think I’m
estúpido, pendejo
? That weak little man at the gas station told me the redhead came by yesterday. Right before I put a bullet between his eyes.”

Over the lunatic’s shoulder, I saw a flash of red hair and a single green eye.

No! Goddamn it, Miri, stay the fuck upstairs!

Cuchillo narrowed his dark eyes, catching the bolt of fear as it tore through me. I made my face blank, unwilling to give away Miri’s presence even though every cell in my body was urging me to scream and tell her to run.

Oh fuck.

Standing in the open doorway, behind Cuchillo, was a big-ass motherfucker. A huge, snarling Mexican dude with a gun of his own at the ready. And my Miri was on the stairway between Cuchillo’s henchman and Cuchillo himself. I had to do something, or Miri would end up dead.

I took another step forward, ready to end this shit. My blades were at the ready. All I had to do was flick them out and throw, making sure their mark was true. I could only hope Cuchillo’s aim would be off once he was hit with the knives. I locked eyes with El Cuchillo, the man who broke my doll right as she was beginning to heal from the horrors of her young life. He touched her. Tortured her. Made her scream. And according to Miri’s report from the doctor, he did it all while she was fucking pregnant with my child!

Cuchillo was going to die for his crimes.

I tensed my wrist, about to release the knives, when my sweet doll stepped out of the hall. A handgun was clutched in her tiny hands, looking enormous by comparison. The monster in the doorway raised his own gun, aiming at my doll. Miri was trembling as she lifted the gun. There was no way I could hide the anguish on my face. Cuchillo sensed the change in the atmosphere. The electric charge that sparked as fear rippled down my spine. He took his eyes off me for one second.

One second was all I needed.

I dropped to the floor and threw the blades as a gun went off.

Cuchillo jerked forward, his eyes wide in surprise. My blades landed true, both protruding from the middle of the henchman’s neck. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and he slumped to his knees before landing face-first on the floor. Stunned, I rolled to my side and stared at El Cuchillo. His gun went off, didn’t it? I should have been shot. I ran my hands down my torso, finding nothing. Glancing over, I noticed a palm-sized circle of blood around a small hole in the center of Cuchillo’s back. Pushing my upper body off the floor, I found Miri frozen in place, trembling. Her knuckles were white where she clutched the gun with both hands, the weapon still raised in front of her.

Miri. Miri was the one who pulled the trigger. Not Cuchillo and not his accomplice.

“Miri? Lower the gun, doll.”

Sammy moved past me, headed for the man on the ground in the doorway with my knives sticking out of his throat. I let him handle it, unable to tear my gaze away from Miri.

Slowly, I rolled to my feet, afraid if Miri was in shock I might startle her into firing again. I didn’t need to worry. Her arms fell to her sides and the gun slipped from her fingers to thump on the floor. Miri began to shake all over, and she let out the most heartbreaking wail I’d ever heard. I rushed to her side and pulled her against my chest, whispering soothing words as she sobbed.

“It’s okay, doll. You’re okay now.”

“Boss.” I turned to see Sammy back next to Frank, pressing a towel to Frank’s shoulder. “We need to go.”

Right. I shifted Miri to my left side, keeping her tucked under my arm. With my right, I dug out my phone and called a “cleaning service” I had used before. They would wipe the house of any evidence and get rid of the body and Cuchillo’s car. I hung up and wrapped Miri back in my tight embrace. I would never let go of her again. Never.

I stared down at the man who caused so much pain and horror. Fuck, I wanted to spit on the piece of shit so badly, it physically hurt to hold back. But evidence was evidence, and no way was I going to leave my DNA on that piece of shit. He wasn’t worth getting caught. I walked past him to the dead man in the doorway. Using my foot, I held the body down and pulled out my throwing knives, grimacing at the blood.

Nasty motherfucker.

Suddenly, Miri was next to me, beating her fists on the large man’s unmoving chest.

“You fucking asshole! I hate you!” She was screaming, hitting him over and over.

“Doll.” I grabbed her by the waist and hauled her back. “Stop. He’s dead.”

Her voice hitching from the sobs, Miri turned in my arms and whispered into my shirt. “That’s the one. The one who…”

My body stilled, turning as cold as a glacier. “He raped you.”

I felt her nod against my chest.

Motherfucker. My blood boiled and I wished I could kill the piece of shit all over again, starting by cutting off his cock and shoving it up his ass. Miri was full out crying now, her tears wetting my shirt. Shit. I had to be strong for her no matter how badly I wanted to inflict more damage on the bastard’s corpse.

“Shhhhh, he’s dead now, doll. He can’t hurt you anymore.” I stood there, holding Miri, soothing her, until the sobs turned to sniffs and she wiped her red eyes. I held her face in my hands. “Are you okay to go home?”

“I want to get out of here.”

That was good enough for me.

Sammy packed up his gear while I wrapped my knives in a towel, grabbed everyone’s stuff, and threw the bags into the trunk of the SUV. By the time we were loaded, George had arrived.

“Take Frank to Dr. Silvio’s. It’s closer than going all the way back to Austin.” George nodded and pulled out of the drive with Frank and Sammy in the backseat, Sammy still putting pressure on Frank’s wound. The cleaning service would return Miri’s rental car, so we didn’t have to worry about that.

Miri and I climbed into the SUV and pulled out onto the desolate street. Even in the middle of the day, there wasn’t a single other car in sight. No words were spoken the entire ride back to Austin. None were needed. Miri alternated between leaning against my shoulder, clinging to my arm, and staring blankly out the window while I kept my hand on her thigh so she knew I was there for her. Besides, I didn’t think I could ever stop touching her

My girl was strong, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t worried how she would react to killing someone. Even a bastard as deserving as Cuchillo. We pulled into the drive of the mansion and Miri spoke for the first time since she shot and killed the man.

“I thought we were going to the hotel.”

I slid my hands behind her head and gently kissed her. “No, doll. It’s safe now. He’s gone.”

She exhaled a shaky breath. “Cat—”

“Everyone is already inside.” I rested my forehead against hers and her eyes fluttered closed. “You okay to go in?”

Miri swallowed. She met my gaze and nodded. “Yes. I-I think it’s time to start from scratch.”

I leaned back, my brows pulling low. “What do you mean?” Did she want to start over without me? No way would she leave. I wouldn’t allow it.

“I mean, let’s start over. Forget the past and go forward from here.” Miri dropped her gaze and bit her lip. “I don’t want to be a junkie anymore. I want to be Miri Murphy again.”

I released her and slipped out of the SUV. Miri tracked my movements as I circled the front of the vehicle and opened her door. Wordlessly, I gripped her tiny waist and lifted her from her seat, placing her on her feet in front of me. God she was so fucking strong. I was so damn proud of her.

“I don’t want you to be Miri Murphy.” She frowned and her big green eyes shimmered with tears. “Shit, I’m fucking this up.” I took her hands and fell to one knee, ignoring the gravel digging into my skin. “I don’t have a ring. I wasn’t planning… I didn’t expect so soon…” I huffed and shook my head. “How do you feel about becoming Miri Bosman?”

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, but she shook her head. “No.”

“No?” Fuck, had I misread this entire relationship?

“I won’t be Miri Bosman, but I’ll be Miri Sinclair.” I must have looked as confused as I felt, because Miri laughed. “Your new identity, remember?”

Damn, no, I hadn’t remembered. “Jack Sinclair.”

“Yes. So, does the offer still stand?” she asked, the corner of those pink lips twitching.

“Is this because you want to marry me or because you hate your new name?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

She giggled, and it was the sweetest fucking sound I’d ever heard. “Both.”

I stood and crushed her in a hug, whispering in her ear. “I’ll take it. I would hate for you to be stuck with Madeline Grossman.” I tried to hide my amusement and failed, my shoulders vibrating as I chuckled.

Miri gently pushed my chest. “You jerk. I knew you hated it.” She made a face. “Grossman. I mean, really.”

I took her chin between my thumb and forefinger, holding her gaze. “So you’re serious? You’ll really marry me?” I watched her eyes carefully, studying her reaction. They softened and she gave me a shy smile.

“I’d love to marry you, Jag.”

I lowered my mouth, capturing hers in a perfect kiss. Miri slipped her arms around my neck and pulled me down, begging for more. I palmed her ass and picked her up. Miri automatically wrapped her legs around my waist and I turned and held her against the SUV, thrusting my tongue deep into her mouth, letting her know she was mine and I would never let her go. She returned my kiss with just as much enthusiasm, opening for me, allowing me to take charge as I devoured her until we were both gasping for breath.

“Let’s go inside,” I murmured against her lips, my voice raspy with lust.

“Take me to your room, Jag,” she purred, thrusting her hips against my rock-hard dick.

She didn’t need to ask twice.