Jagger (Broken Doll Book 2) (16 page)

I dropped a hundred on the counter and took the gum. “Call me when they show up.”

“Y-yes sir,” the cashier said, eyes still bulging out of their sockets. Didn’t stop him from sliding the bill off the countertop and into his pocket.

Satisfied, I stepped out into the sticky heat and unhooked my sunglasses from the collar of my shirt, sliding them on.

“Nothing,” I told Frank.

Wordlessly, he headed for the car.

On to the next stop. If Cuchillo was in Austin, asking about me, and the word on the street that I was outside Laredo spreading like wildfire, it was only a matter of time. When that time came, I would be ready and waiting to give that son of a bitch exactly what he deserved.

“Cat?” I called from the bathroom. “Cat?”

“Miri?” A soft knock accompanied the voice on the other side of the door.

“Come in,” I groaned.

The door pushed open and in an instant, Cat dropped to her knees next to where I slumped over the toilet.

“Oh my God, Miri. What happened?”

“I don’t feel so good,” I said right before I dry heaved into the bowl. Cat reached out and felt my forehead.

“You’re burning up. Is it…?” Her eyes flicked down to my still-flat stomach.

“I-I don’t know.” I clutched my midsection and curled up on the floor, crying out in pain.

“Miri, this isn’t good.” Cat leapt to her feet. “I’m getting help. Just… just stay there.” My best friend bolted from the room. I could hear her shouting for help. While she was gone, I grabbed the heating pad I had plugged in earlier out from under the sink, and pressed it to my face and neck, getting my skin nice and hot. When footsteps and voices grew louder, I chucked the pad back under the sink and shut the cabinet door.

“See? Do something!” Cat cried from behind George’s large figure as he loomed in the doorway. I groaned as convincingly as I could and hunched further into myself, hands protecting my belly.

“Miri,” George said, stepping toward me with his hands up, like I was a wounded animal. “What’s going on?”

“I-I…” I drew in a long breath and let out a heartbreaking moan. “Oh God. I’m pregnant,” I whispered. “The baby.”

George blanched and wasted no time scooping me into his arms. He carried me out of the bathroom and down the hall while barking commands. “Scratch, go get the car. Drake, grab your gun and get the elevator! Move!”

Controlled chaos broke out in the penthouse, each man carrying out his orders quickly and efficiently. Cat was somewhere out of my line of sight, sobbing. I swallowed back the guilt I felt for deceiving my friend. I hated hurting her, but I had to get to Jag. If Cat knew what I was planning to do, she’d never allow it. She’d narc to George in a heartbeat if it meant keeping me safe, no matter how much I begged and pleaded with her.

Minutes later, we were all piled in the big black SUV, headed for the nearest hospital. I did my part, moaning and clutching my stomach the entire way. At this point, I was so nervous, my skin was legitimately clammy and my hands were trembling. Cat was beside herself and George had a pinched look on his face.

“No, asshole, take her to Seaton.”

“Shut the fuck up, Scratch. I’m driving.”

The two men in the front were arguing about which direction to go.

George wedged his huge body between the front seats. “Shut the fuck up! The bullshit stops here. Go to Seaton,” George growled, his voice frightening enough to raise the hair on the back of my neck. “Jag would want the best. Seaton is the best. Now shut your damn mouths and fucking drive.”

Drake hung a right and took the on-ramp for Loop 1 north. The big vehicle accelerated quickly, its powerful engine rumbling as the SUV easily surpassed the eighty-five mile per hour speed limit.

“Slow the fuck down!” George barked, startling both Cat and me. “You fucking crash and hurt either of these women, you’d better be dead in the wreckage or I’ll kill you myself.”

Holy shit. I had no clue how scary George could be. It was both horrifyingly eye opening and somehow comforting at the same time.

“We’re almost there, Miri.” Cat’s hand ghosted down the side of my face and another stab of guilt pierced my heart. I was the shittiest friend ever. “Just hold on. The baby will be fine.”

The exit for 35th Street flew by and the SUV barely stopped at the bottom of the ramp before executing a sharp right turn, tires squealing. A minute later we jerked to a stop in front of the emergency room and in the blink of an eye, I was being lifted out of the backseat by strong arms. George brought me right to the intake desk and demanded I be seen immediately.

The flustered clerk picked up the phone and called for a nurse. Less than five minutes after arriving, I was on a stretcher, being hurried down the hall. The staff kept my entourage in the waiting room, refusing to allow any one of them to accompany us past a pair of ominous-looking doors. I said a quick prayer of thanks for that tiny bit of luck.

All I needed was two minutes alone and I could slip out of the hospital and make my way to the second level of the parking garage where my rental car was waiting, keys in a magnetic box beneath the front tire. I learned from Jag, offer a few extra dollars and you could get whatever you wanted. That, or threaten people with bodily harm, though violence was more Jag’s thing than mine. Money did the trick in this instance.

The orderly put me in a room. “I’ll find a nurse to see you,” he said as he left.

The second he stepped out I bolted from the bed. The hall was bustling with people, not one of them paying any attention to me. The orderly who brought me in wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Walking fast but not enough to draw attention to myself, I wound through the back halls of the emergency room to the main hospital and didn’t stop until I was in the car.

Hands shaking and nerves frayed at the chance of being caught and prevented from getting to Jag, I put the car in gear and followed the GPS on my phone. Just the thought of seeing Jag again had my stomach calming down for the first time since he left.

No, I didn’t know exactly where Jag was, but I would search every house until I found him. Doing
something
besides sitting on my ass waiting for news, had me feeling better than I had in days.

It might not be the smartest thing to do, but at least this way, Jag would know about our baby. No loose ends left untied.

“
T
his is ridiculous
.” I tossed the remote on the wobbly coffee table in disgust. “I fucking hate TV and hate waiting.” I was not a complainer, so I knew the tight confines were really getting to me for me to be bitching about El Cuchillo’s non-appearance after a week trapped in this shithole in the hot as Satan’s ass desert. The landscape here was damn depressing. I missed the trees and rolling hills of Austin. Oh, and coming and going as I pleased.

Sammy glanced up from the bank of computer crap spread out all over the kitchen table and gave me a dry look. “So go work out.”

“Right. In that musty, armpit-scented, hundred and fifty-degree garage? No thanks.” There was a bench and enough free weights to get a decent workout if you liked exercising in a sauna, but that wasn’t what I needed. What I needed was to get the fuck out of here. If I could go for a long run, I’d feel a thousand times better.

Hell, if I could talk to Miri for even one minute, I’d feel a million times better. Half of me couldn’t ignore the overwhelming instinct to protect her, keeping me stuck in this shitty house. Half of me, the half ruled by my heart instead of my brain, was screaming to make sure she was okay, to talk to her, hold her, calm her fears. The need was clawing at my insides, urging me to find my woman and take care. Not letting her out of my sight for the rest of my life. I rubbed my eyes and sighed.

The rest of my life.

When exactly did fixing the broken doll who showed up on my doorstep turn into something more? When did Miri become someone I couldn’t live without? Someone I wanted to claim as mine. To mark, letting everyone know she was with me, all others knowing they should back the fuck off?

Twitchy and frustrated at how long this stakeout was taking, I stood and paced the room. A year ago, if someone had told me I’d be going out of my mind being separated from a woman for a few days, I’d either laugh or shoot them between the eyes. Yet here I was, irrefutably in love with the tiny redhead who’d trespassed on my life and set up permanent residence in my previously empty heart.

“Boss!” Frank burst through the front door, back from his grocery run much too soon. His face was pale and his voice rang with an urgency I couldn’t ignore.

I sprang to my feet and met him in the entryway. “Tell me.”

Frank held up his phone. “Just got a call. Someone asked about you at the Citgo on the loop.”

Sammy glanced up from his computers, giving his full attention to our conversation.

I stood in front of Frank and maintained my deadpan facade, but inside, the monster reared his bloodthirsty head and gnashed his hungry fangs. Finally. Cuchillo was here. Boss was rejoicing, more than ready to finish this shit and have long-awaited revenge.

My eyes narrowed. “Asked about me? In what way?”

Frank trembled, his lips pressed in a tight line. Something was wrong. My stomach flipped at the sight of my driver’s hesitation, because Frank was not a man who was easily rattled. I knew if Frank was anxious, then whatever he had to say was something I didn’t want to hear. “She showed a picture of you to the clerk.”

“
She?
” Reacting without thinking, the façade slipped and I stumbled back a step, clutching my shirt where it lay over my heart. “What do you mean,
she
?” Shaking off the shock, I regained my composure and snatched the phone out of Frank’s hand.

“The clerk sent me a picture of the visitor,” Frank said, subtly moving out of my reach.

I touched the screen to wake up the phone and my now hammering heart plummeted to my feet. Holding my breath, I stared at the image for several long seconds, saying nothing as a myriad of emotions warred beneath the surface of my too-tight skin.

Sammy finally broke the silence. “What’s going on?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Frank making hand gestures telling Sammy to shut up.

When the blood finally stopped pounding behind my ears and I unclenched my teeth long enough to speak, the last threads of my civility snapped. A red haze dropped behind my eyes, clouding my vision.

“What the actual fuck?” I roared. “How in the motherfucking hell did she get here?”

“I-I called George on my way back,” Frank said, sliding back to put more distance between us. It was shocking to watch. This was the first time I’d ever seen Frank show any kind of fear. “George said Miri was sick…” Frank paused when a low growl rumbled in my chest. “They took her to the hospital.”

“And?” I stepped into Frank’s personal space, unable to contain the rage. “They fucking lost her? No one called me?” My chest was heaving as I tried to remain calm enough to finish the conversation before completely losing my shit.

“No, Boss. It…” Frank licked his lips nervously. “It appears she snuck out of the hospital. None of them knew she was gone until I called. They… they thought she was in the back being treated. When I spoke to George, they were all still sitting in the waiting room at Seaton. The staff wouldn’t let any of them go back with her. You know hospitals, Boss, everything takes so damn long, it never occurred to George that she wasn’t being seen. That she would
leave
. And it’s so damn crowded, the staff probably didn’t notice her absence.”

I closed my eyes and clenched the phone so hard the case cracked. When I… not exactly
calmed
down, but got my shit under control enough to loosen my grip, I tossed the phone back to Frank. The man caught it and moved even further away, recognizing the ticking time bomb inside of me.

“If Miri is in Laredo, why the fuck are you standing here instead of finding her and making sure she’s not grabbed by Cuchillo?” I hissed.

Frank cringed when I voiced his grievous error in judgment. “I-I was in the opposite direction, Boss. And the clerk said s-she had already left the station. The Citgo isn’t more than five minutes away, so she should be here any second.”

If looks could kill, my driver would be a pile of ashes on the hideous, moldy, olive green carpet.

“Boss. A car is pulling into the drive.” Sammy broke the tension rising between my fist and Frank’s face.

“And the driver?”

Sammy stared at his screen. “Female, red hair.” He glanced at me over the monitor. “Looks like it’s her, Boss.”

I shouldered my way around Frank, not giving two shits that he stumbled from the force of my arm knocking against him. I hit the front door at a full sprint. Outside, a small red compact sat in the driveway, the engine off. The person behind the wheel made no move to get out of the car. I ran down the walk, circled to the driver’s side, and yanked at the handle. It didn’t open.

“Miri, baby. Unlock the door!” I thumped on the window, scared that something was wrong with her.

Haunted eyes turned toward me. The vacant, faraway look I saw scared the shit out of me. It was as if Miri didn’t actually see me, or somehow saw
through
me. Chills pricked my scalp.

I banged on the window again, panic rising, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “Miri! Miri! C’mon, doll.” Nothing. Now I was truly frightened. “Open the goddamn door!”

Miri flinched, blinking rapidly as she came back to reality, finally responding to my pleas. This time, when she met my gaze, recognition shone in those big green eyes. “J-Jag?” The misery in her voice nearly broke my heart.

“Doll, please… open the door.” I was desperately pleading with my girl, begging her to listen. It wasn’t safe to be in full view of the street. Having Miri in the potential line of fire had me full on freaking the fuck out. The protective instinct ingrained in me demanded I get her out of harm’s way. Now.

Miri nodded and clicked the auto-locks. Thank fuck. I had the door open and her seat belt off before she could move a single inch. Half a second later, I scooped her up and held her close. My sweet doll was back in my arms where she belonged. I ran for the house and didn’t stop until we were upstairs in my room, shielded behind locked doors.

With Miri curled up on my lap, I sat on the bed. She made a pitiful sound and burrowed her face further into my chest. I was torn. Part of me was beyond ecstatic to have Miri in my arms, safe, warm, and smelling so goddamn good I wanted to throw her down and bury my cock deep inside her, not stopping until tomorrow morning. But the other part of me was terrified. Since fear wasn’t something I rarely dealt with, the out of control feelings made me irrational and angry.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” I held back nothing, my tone harsh and clipped.

Miri shrank into herself, twining her small fingers into the cotton fabric of my shirt, holding on for dear life. Soft whimpers and small tremors wracked her tiny body. Even though I was still beyond pissed, every one of my instincts was screaming at the top of their lungs that it wasn’t safe for Miri to be here. I felt like an asshole for shouting, and listening to my doll crying because of me? Fuck, the crying slayed me.

“I’m sorry for yelling, doll.” I tightened my hold and ran a hand up and down her back. Pressing a kiss to her head, I inhaled deeply and all the torn pieces inside me realigned. Suddenly, I could see clearly and all was right in the world. Miri was exactly where she belonged. With me. I would protect her with my life.

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to worry everyone,” she whispered between quiet sobs.

“How did you…? Jesus.” I ran a hand down my face, scratching at the short stubble. “Why are you here, doll?”

Miri tried to hide her face somewhere under my arm, but I was having none of that. I slid my hands to her shoulders and gently pushed until I could see those shimmering emerald eyes.

“Christ, Miri.” I ran my thumbs over the dark circles marring her pale skin. “You haven’t been sleeping.” Her eyes were bloodshot and glassy, rimmed with red from crying. My doll wasn’t taking care of herself. And clearly my staff wasn’t taking care of her either if this was what she looked like. Before I could succumb to the building anger, Miri spoke.

“No, I haven’t.” She shook her head and dropped her gaze.

“Are you sick?” Frank said Miri took off from an emergency room, which meant she couldn’t have been in very bad shape when she left, but damn, she looked like hell. My hands drifted until my fingers slid across protruding collarbones. “You’ve lost weight.”

“I-I haven’t been able to eat much,” she mumbled, still not looking me in the eyes.

“Because you’re worried about my safety?” God, I hoped she didn’t stop taking care of herself because of me.

“Yes,” she said. “No. I mean… sort of. Both, I guess.” Miri chewed on her bottom lip. She was trembling from head to toe. Something else was going on here. Something I couldn’t put my finger on.

My brow furrowed and another stab of fear sliced my chest. What was wrong? “Tell me, doll. I know you have something to say. You look… I don’t know, almost lost.” If her fidgeting and general unhealthy appearance weren’t enough of a sign that something was weighing heavily on her, then the fact she couldn’t meet my eyes sealed the deal.

Miri closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath, blurting it out on the exhale. “I’m pregnant.”

You know how people say time freezes when they experience a significant shift in their life? A near-death experience, the adrenaline rush from jumping out of a plane, scoring the winning touchdown at the Super Bowl? That’s what happened at that moment. Time literally froze. Dust motes halted midair, my chest no longer moved up and down, my heart stopped beating. I think I even forgot to blink.

“Jag?”

Miri’s voice snapped me back to the present and the world started moving again, only now it was fast, panicked, plummeting in a free fall without a parachute.

“Pregnant?”

“Yes.” Miri sniffed and wiped at her tears, waiting for me to say something.

“I—”

“I’m sorry,” she cried, pushing off my lap and curling up on the bed. “I didn’t think about… I didn’t know.”

I had no idea how to feel. I was elated—the knowledge I claimed Miri in such a primitive way made my inner caveman roar with satisfaction. Knowing she would swell with my child gave me a high I hadn’t expected. Yet I was confused—what did this mean for us? How would it work?
Could
it work? I was terrified—what if El Cuchillo found her and killed our child? Or killed me, leaving Miri without a way to provide for our baby?

I had no clue how long I sat there unmoving like a statue. By the time I got my head on straight and turned toward my girl, she had her eyes closed, breathing steadily as she slept. It warmed me to think that even if I didn’t react the way she hoped, Miri felt safe enough now that she was with me to catch up on desperately needed sleep.

I sent a text to Frank to let me know if there were any developments and set the phone on the nightstand. A minute later, I had shucked my jeans and shirt and curled up behind Miri, slinging an arm over her midsection. Instinctively, my hand drifted to cover her belly and warmth washed over me. I spread my palm, my hand large enough to span the entire width of Miri’s tiny waist.

My baby. Our baby.

If I thought I was determined to kill El Cuchillo before, I knew everything had changed. Now, I would tear him, and anyone who stood between us, to shreds. I would do anything to protect my child, my love, my life.

I literally held my future in the palm of my hand.

I slowly regained consciousness, stretching out on the soft bed. My body felt liquid and relaxed. I probably slept more in one night than I had in weeks. I rolled over and reached for Jag, smiling as I remembered how he held me, his hand protectively covering my belly as I drifted off. The pain from carrying the weight of such a huge secret was gone. Despite my lingering fear, I felt lighter than I had in a long time.

When my hand found nothing but empty sheets, I opened my eyes and sat up. The room was nothing to look at, small, with a single chipped nightstand that held the saddest lamp I’d ever seen. I slid off the mattress until my feet touched the rough carpet. There was only one door in the room, so that’s where I went. The hall was empty but I found the bathroom and quickly used the facilities and washed my face. As I descended to the first floor, I heard the murmured voices of men having a quiet, but heated discussion. For a brief second, I considered going back upstairs. Then I smelled coffee and my stomach made the decision for me by rumbling loudly.