Chapter THIRTEEN
Britton slowly opened her eyes, replaying the events of the previous twenty-four hours. She stared at the picture of the two of them from so long ago. If only sixteen-year-old Britton had known what she would get herself into ten years later. She couldn’t help but shoot through scenarios that would undoubtedly end this whole journey. There was no “happily ever after” for them. She would need to arrest Jagger Stromm in the end. They would never live out their days together in the home he had built for the two of them.
She rolled to her other side. He was still sleeping; he looked peaceful and happy. The blanket hung down at his waist, and his bare chest was rising toward the ceiling. Britton studied his body. She lightly traced his scars, remembering their correlating stories. The splay of nicks across his chest were still prominent and the scars were mirrored on his forearms. She recalled finding nine-year-old Jagger curled up inside the fireplace, tears mixing with the blood scattered across his face. He hadn’t cleaned the windows in time for dinner, and for that, was thrown through one by his father.
The scrapes across his face were minor, but his forearms and chest took the brunt of the incident. She circled the burns and slices, and came to an unfamiliar gash. It was large, at least four inches, and it dug into his lower abdomen. She placed her hand over top, hiding its existence. Jagger’s hand jutted from its rest and seized her wrist. Before she knew it, she was flat on her back with her hands pinned above her head. His eyes softened and his grip relaxed as he became aware of his surroundings.
“I’m so sorry, Britton. I completely forgot where I was. Are you okay?” He hugged her close.
“I’m fine, just startled. Are you okay?”
“I am now.”
She couldn’t help but ask. “Where did that scar come from?”
Jagger breathed deeply and pushed her away, staring into her eyes. “How about I make us some breakfast.”
“Jagger… I don’t need breakfast. I want you to talk to me”
He wanted to stay in bed. He wanted to tell her everything. He just didn’t know if he was ready. For that matter, he didn’t know if she was ready either.
“I don’t know if that’s the best pillow talk.”
Every moment she was with him, she could feel herself falling harder. She needed to get the information and get out, while she still could. “I want to know everything about you: everything I missed.”
He leaned in and gently kissed her forehead. How could he tell her this? Would she run out of the house and never be heard from again? Jagger collapsed onto his back, shooting his eyes up toward the heavens. He searched for the words, carefully choosing each piece of information he offered up.
“Do you remember the people I started hanging out with in high school?”
“Yes.” Britton didn’t want to answer him, fearing that her reactions might cause him to stop talking. Was he about to tell her everything?
“Well, as a new member, I was required to carry out tasks that may have been on the riskier side. I wasn’t very good at keeping a low profile...I was arrested four times before I was eighteen and I was on probation. Did you know that?”
“No.” She actually didn’t know that. She was unaware of his arrests while they were dating, and they weren’t in his file. Had he been able to get his juvenile record expunged?
“I tried to hide it all from you, but I knew that if I was caught the night of the accident with weed and alcohol in my system, I would surely go to jail for a long time. I couldn’t risk that for so many reasons.”
She tried to take it all in. He couldn’t risk going to jail for her so he left her alone on the side of the road? She would use this piece of information to remind herself of why she was putting him away.
“So I went into hiding with the club. Three years later, I found out that my mom had died from a heroin overdose. I hadn’t spoken to my father while I was in hiding, but I thought I should pay him a visit. I found him drunk, throwing beer bottles against the wall. I tried to calm him down, but he jabbed a broken bottle into my stomach.”
He paused, unsure if he should continue. Her eyes were wide, and she looked bewildered.
“What did you do?” She whispered.
Jagger contemplated his next confession. Was she ready for this? Was she ready to carry his burden? “I was in a lot of pain, and he wouldn’t stop pushing the glass further into me. I wrapped my hands around his neck and squeezed. I couldn’t stop myself. His hand dropped, and I finally let go, but it was too late.”
Britton was stunned. Did he just confess to murder? Was he going to finish that sentence? She became very uneasy, not sure if she should be in the same room with him now. How mad would he have to get to kill again? Why hadn’t she known about this? His file included the death of his parents, but not how they died. How did he get away with murder? What connections did this man have in the system?
“Please say something.” He begged her. He had put himself out there, willing to trust her, but he needed something in return to know that he hadn’t made a mistake.
“I’m sorry.” She began to cry. “I’m sorry that you had to deal with that alone.” Her words were true. His father was a terrible man, and he was only defending himself, but taking his life could not have been easy for him. She thought back to her psychology classes in college. It was all making sense. This was the reason he had turned into someone who could tie her up, slam her up against a wall, and God knows what else.
He grabbed her, crushing her to his chest. It felt so good to finally tell that to her. He wasn’t completely sure of her reaction, but it was better than he had feared.
There were so many things she wanted to ask him. What did he do after he realized what had happened to his father? How did he get away with murder? What happened the last seven years that caused him to transform from a kid in hiding to the leader of the entire biker club?
“I think I’m ready for breakfast.” She smiled warily.
He nodded with an understanding grin, crawled out of bed, and left the room.