Unplugged: A Bad Boy Rockstar Romance (23 page)

BOOK: Unplugged: A Bad Boy Rockstar Romance
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Maggie!
” Jase

s voice echoed through the bathroom.
Before she could react, the stall door exploded inward with enough force to
bend the latch beyond repair. She and the frat boy both let out a surprised
cry, and he did his best to shield her from the shrapnel that came
flying in.

Jase stood in the doorway, a hulking
figure of rage and jealousy. He was twice the size of the college kid who
didn’t put up an ounce of resistance when Jase reached in and grabbed him by
his polo collar. He growled in his face to get the fuck
out, and then pushed him hard towards the bathroom door. The frat boy
hesitated just a minute as he looked at Maggie before he fled. A woman with
golden hair watched the whole thing as she huddled in a corner near the sink,
then
boldly
told
Jase she was go
ing to get the manager before she
fled.

They stood there staring at each other
for what felt like an eternity. Maggie didn’t even remember that she was
shirtless, standing in front of her ex in just a bra and jeans, trying to slow
down her heart and her br
eathing.

She had figured Jase would seethe
quietly to himself all night at the bar and demand a transfer from Henry in the
morning. She looked at the dangling, broken latch, realizing she had misjudged
the hell out of the situation.


What the fuck do you
think you’re doing?”
she said with deep anger.


I could ask you the same thing! Some
assholes are hunting you and your bright idea is to fuck some rando at the
roadhouse? Do you care about your own life or not?


Oh please!

said Maggie, finally noticing
her shirt on the floor and trying to act casual as she
bent to gather it up.
“Don’t
act like this is some concern for my safety, Saint Jase.
You could have waited at the fucking door. We both know you tossed that kid out
of here because you don’t want any
one else down my
pants.

Jase

s face turned red and he stepped towards
her a few feet. Maggie was far too angry to back down. She stood in front of
him, shirtless and vulnerable, her pale skin probably still bearing the red
marks from the frat boy

s eager
hands and lips. In a
bitter internal monologue, she hoped Jase saw them, too.


I
don’t give a fuck about your pants and
who might be in them. I have a job to do, and I

m going to do it whether you like it or
not,

he retorted
.


Keeping me from getting di
ck is not your job,

said Maggie, throwing her shirt over her
head.

The muscles in his jaw clenched.

Well it sure as shit isn’t
my job to
help
you get dick, either,

said Jase.

Maggie rolled her eyes and pushed past
him just as the golden-haired woman and a round man in a dress shirt entered
the ladies room. The man gave Jase a shocked look.


Since you

re on the clock, you can deal with this,

said Maggie as she thumbed at who s
he assumed was the manager.
“I’ll
be waiting at the bar.


The hell you will,

said Jase. As she left the restroom, she
heard him speak to the manager.

I
don’t have time for this. Put it on the MC

s tab.”


Look, you fellas are great customers but
you can
’t just be busting up my equipment!

said the manager.


Did you hear me?

said Jase, his voice getting louder.

Charge it to the fucking MC.

Maggie was halfway down the hall before
he caught up with her bee-lining for the bar. Jase grabbed her arm and beg
an to pull her towards the front door.
“We

re fucking done with playtime, Maggie.


Hey, you bastard! Let me go!

Maggie tried to squirm her way free, but
Jase

s hand was big enough to wrap nearly the
whole way around her arm, and he was so much stronger t
han her that it was laughable. She resisted as much as she could, yet
both of them knew he was going to get his way.

Jase dragged her outside and back to the
driver

s side of her SUV in the parking lot
before he finally released her arm. She instinctively
rubbed
the sore spot it had left.

Get in, drive home, or I will take you home myself.

He pointed at her, then at the car.


What the fuck is your problem, Jase?

said Maggie.

“You

re my problem!”
Jase yelled loud enough that some
curious bystanders had begun to watch from the porch of the roadhouse.

You always have to make things so
fucking difficult, Maggie. You don’t give a shit about anyone else or how they
feel.


I make things difficult?

she
screamed
back.

No one made you bust into that bathroom
stall, Jase! You did that on your own!


I promised your father I would make sure
you don’t get your stupid ass killed, and I

m going to keep that promise. I don’t
give a fuck about anything else.

J
ase lowered his voice and
stepped up to her again, backing her against the SUV door. He bent low to her
face and she could smell the whiskey on his breath.

I
don’t care who you fuck. I don’t care
about you anymore, period
.
 But you

re not getting killed o
n my
watch. Understood?

More than anything else that night,
Maggie knew she would replay those last few lines in her worst dreams for
months to come.
I
don’t
care about you anymore. I don’t care
who you fuck. I don’t care about you anymore.
She was just b
uzzed
enough that she couldn’t stop the pain from radiating out to pulse through her
whole body. It must have shown on her face, because for a split second, she saw
Jase

s expression soften, worried.

I
don’t
care about you anymore.
She felt tears begin to burn her eyes.


Yeah, I get it,

said Maggie. She yanked her car keys out
of her pocket and turned to climb in the SUV as Jase moved back to dodge the
door opening. She didn’t look at him again as she started the engine and headed
out of the parking lot.

Maggie let the GPS guide her mindlessly
back the way she came. The head-start gave her time to assess her surroundings
once she got back to her makeshift home. Drake was gone, but he had left a
six-pack of beer and a pack of smokes for her. She saw the out
line of furniture in the dark of the living and dining
room, but didn’t investigate. She grabbed two beers and the smokes and ambled
into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. The bed wasn’t so much a bed as
it was a brand-new set of box spring and me
mory foam
mattress that had been put on the floor. A new pair of sheets and two pillows
had already been made up.

Maggie undressed and sprawled out,
cracked a beer, and lit a cigarette. Tears from crying on the drive home had
stained her puffy face with m
ascara, but she was too
tired, and too hurt, to bother herself with washing it off.

She heard Jase

s bike pull up and park in the drive;
heard the front door open and close quietly; heard the sounds of heavy
footsteps and the squeaking of springs as Jase,
her
quasi-faithful protector, made himself comfortable on her newly delivered couch
in the living room.

Maggie smoked and drank for another
hour, trying to forget how close Jase was, and how far.

 

 

~
FIVE ~

 

 

At exactly 7:13am, a beam of sunlight
stron
g as a laser came through a window and sliced
across Jase

s sleeping eyes. He woke with a start. Half his large body
tumbled onto the floor before he could gather sense of his surroundings. The
room was empty, unfamiliar, and distant. The light was all wro
ng. Was he still wearing his cut

and his boots?

The night fit back together in pieces.
Maggie

s couch, in her weird little house: that
was what he had just fallen from. The light looked wrong because he wasn’t in
his bedroom. He remembered trying to stay u
p on watch
for as long as he could the night before, but Maggie

s place had no television, and his smart
phone died an hour into his night. The couch was uncomfortable as hell. He was
surprised he managed to fall asleep on it. Jase stood and most of the mu
scles in his body began to scream in pain, thanks either to
the dinky couch, or to his rampage the night before.

Shit…
he thought, as memories began to rise in
his mind like alligators from a cloudy bog. He was sure to get an earful from
Beck about kicking in that bathroom stall door at the roadhouse; one of his old
buddies was the owner. He tried to conjure the state of m
ind he had been in when he did it, but it was like he had
been possessed by some crazy emotional haze. He wasn’t the kind of dude to kick
in doors looking to defend his claim to a woman. He had never wanted for women;
he had never had to fight for one.

Ja
se realized
that he was admitting to himself that Maggie had been right. He
was
jealous. The sight of Maggie in that
den after all these years had been one kind of pain. The sight of some other
dude

s hands all over her, his lips on hers -
that brought a w
hole different version he had been
completely unprepared to face.

One of the hardest years of his life had
been the one after Maggie left him. So much drinking, drugs, mindless sex

a few stints in County for picking
fights just so he could feel alive. It
had been a
hard, slow climb out of that abyss. He

d sworn off everything but pot and booze
and smokes; he got his physical aggression out at the gym; and he didn’t bother
wasting any more time with long-term women. When Jase felt lonely or hot, he
would f
ind a solution to that temporary problem, and
then go back to his normal life. He had found a sort of peace this way.

And he had actually fooled himself into
thinking he was healed from feeling things for her.

Jase felt a headache pulsing quietly at
the b
ottom of his temples. He groaned to himself and
tried to stretch some of the tension out of his body. Down the hallway, he
heard the creaking of a door and the sound of socked feed padding on hardwood.

Maggie came from around the corner. He
could tell she
was fresh out of sleep. She always had
a look like a grumpy kid whenever he used to wake her up too early. Her curls
were still a little wild, and Jase saw the dark trails of makeup swirled around
her eyes. She wore the t-shirt from the day before, but her
legs were bare; she only had on her dark blue underwear.
The moment was as pleasant to his eyes as it was upsetting to his heart.

Jase said nothing. He hadn’t had time to
even consider what he would say to Maggie after last night.

Maggie had one arm wrap
ped around her belly. She held out the other, handing Jase
her phone.
“It

s for you.

Jase looked instinctively at his own
phone on the floor and remembered it was dead. He took the phone from Maggie.
She turned immediately and shuffled back down the hallw
ay to her bedroom without another word.

Jase put the phone to his ear.

Yeah, this is Jase.


Where the fuck have you been? I

m supposed to be able to check in on
you!

It was Henry.

The headache pulsed.
“Sorry, boss. I’ve
been with Maggie all night, like you
asked. She

s fine. I just left my charger in my
saddle bag last night.


For god

s sake, Jase—“


It won’t happen again.

“—
things are not fine. There was a
shooting.

Jase froze. He turned to look towards
Maggie

s bedroom.

What happened?


Someone tore up Hot Tamales last night
just after midnight.

Jase slumped back onto the couch.

Jesus Christ.


Take Maggie to the clubhouse and make
sure it

s understood that she remains there.
Then I need you to meet me and t
he sheriff at the
club.

Jase got off the phone with Henry and
rushed down the hallway. He knocked on Maggie

s door.

We have to go, now. Get dressed.


What? It

s like seven in the morning! Fuck off!

came her muffled reply.


Maggie, there was a goddamn s
hooting. Will you do something without a fight, for once?

There was quiet. Then he heard her
rustling out of bed with a grumble. He waited impatiently until she emerged,
dressed, her hair pulled back in haste, huge dark sunglasses obscuring her
eyes. She
stayed silent and brooding as she followed
Jase to the SUV, which he insisted on driving to the clubhouse. She smoked in
the passenger seat and didn’t look at him. She didn’t put up a fight when he
dropped her off and told her to stay in with Tommy and the
others. Like a fed-up zombie, she simply shuffled off
wherever he pointed without a word. He didn’t have time to analyze it.

The police had set up their tape and
crime scene equipment by the time Jase arrived. The sheriff worked often with
the MC on issue
s of mutual interest, and no doubt
Henry had gotten a call as soon as signs of the Black Dogs were found on-scene.
Jase found Henry and Beck conversing with the sheriff on the porch. They
brought him inside to show him the scene. It was surreal to see the
dance hall from the night before flooded with daylight and
dust; the floor scattered with shoes and cups and overturned tables. Blood from
the victims still hadn’t been cleaned up.


Witnesses put this at three or four
guys, career criminals from the sounds
. This type of
thing isn’t usually for first-timers,

said the sheriff. He read slowly off a
small spiral notebook he always kept in his pocket.

There was a lot of chaos, but multiple
people seem to think they were targeting groups with bikers in cuts. Ba
rtender says they were definitely looking for something,
but they never once asked for money or the safe.


Do we think it was a hit out on the
Black Dogs?

asked Jase.

Henry shook his head.

A few clubs were here, so it

s possible. But this was also very
sloppy, which our enemies tend not to be.


We must have just missed it
…”
said Jase, more to himself than to
anyone.
If I
hadn’t
kicked that bathroom door open and started that fight, would Maggie and I have
still been here when the shooting happened?


Wha
t

s that now?

asked the sheriff.

Jase said turned to Henry instead,
ignoring the sheriff. 

This was for Maggie, I can feel it. We
were here last night. She wanted a drink. But we didn’t

we didn’t stay long.

He couldn’t help but avert his eyes, no
matte
r how much of a tell it was. He was still
boiling with shame.

Maggie gets back into town, and this happens? That

s no accident. Someone knew we were
here.

Henry and Beck exchanged heavy glances.


You didn’t see anything?

asked Beck.


The place was
packed,
but no, there was nothing suspicious. A few parties, plus the usual Friday
night crowd

no one hassled us or seemed out of
place.

Even as the words came out of his mouth,
Jase doubted himself. Had he really been on point last night? Had he taken g
ood stock of the crowd, or had he been far too focused on
Maggie? Did someone tail them to the bar and he missed it, too busy rehearsing
angry speeches in his mind?


Well, that complicates things,

said the sheriff.
“We’ll
need to talk to your daughter, H
enry, if you think she

s a target here.

Henry looked unhappy about it, but he
nodded anyway.
“She

s at the clubhouse. Let me go speak with
her now, and then I’ll have her come down to the station.

As the men piled out of the roadhouse,
Jase took one last
look around. He made himself
memorize the pattern of the blood spatter on the floors and walls. He wanted
them to be a stark reminder that his job for the MC came before anything

before his feelings, and before Maggie

s. Otherwise it was likely to be her
blood spatter he was memorizing next.

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