Jigsaw (Hell's Handlers MC 3)

Once in a while, though, something would trip a memory, and he’d be ravaged by thoughts of Callie and how she’d hate the man he’d transformed into. Maybe hate was a strong word, but she’d sure as hell fear him. She’d loathed motorcycles, shaking her pretty blond head every time one zipped by them on the highway. Would she have changed her mind if she’d had the chance to experience the wind in her hair and the freedom the open road provided? Would she have gone off the deep end and morphed into a completely different version of herself had she been the one to come home to a scene straight out of a slasher film?

He’d never know.

Life sure was one confounding bitch.

“Hey, Jig, you with us, brother?”

Jig blinked the world back into focus. Shit, he’d really wandered. Zach was looking at him like he was two seconds away from dragging his ass to the looney bin, as were Maverick and Stephanie who must have joined them during his quick vacation from reality.

“You take a hard hit to the cranium or something?” Zach asked.

Jig shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. Just thinking about some shit for a minute. How’d you like your first walk on the dark side, Steph?” Up until she’d met Mav, she’d been quite the line-toeing FBI agent who would’ve only been at an underground fight if she was the one busting it up. But she had some martial arts experience, so she’d been interested in checking it out.

Surprise registered on her face before it lit up with happiness, making him feel like an ass. He didn’t associate much with the ol’ ladies unless he was forced to or they sought him out. Steph was constantly trying to engage him, so she looked thrilled that he’d initiated the conversation. Anything to keep his brothers from prying into his dark and twisted mind.

He bet Izzy wouldn’t shy away from something like this. She seemed like the type of woman who could handle just about anything.

Not that he was thinking about her…again.

“This place is out of control,” Steph said, a flush of excitement deepening her blue eyes. Her face was glowing as well; from excitement, adrenaline, or the heat of the fucking warehouse, he had no idea.

“Yeah, it takes a minute to get used to it.” The locations of the fights varied constantly. It was rare to use a spot twice in a row. Less risk of the cops sniffing it out. Old warehouses were most common, sometimes up to ninety minutes away from Townsend. During the summer months, they’d occasionally be held on an abandoned farm or large clearing in the woods, but it was getting too fucking cold for outdoor games.

“I didn’t expect it to be so…” She let her gaze wander around to where men drank, smoked, and generally acted like animals. There was a fair number of women present, all much less dressed than Stephanie, assets on display. “Grrr.”

“Gets pretty intense,” Zach responded. “Toni refuses to come to ‘barbarian night.’” He crooked his fingers in air quotes. Zach’s woman had never been a fan of the fights. Most of the women associated with the club tended to skip it. They typically had a wine-soaked girls’ night instead or some shit. Jig avoided that scene like he avoided overused snatch.

“I like it,” she said matter-of-fact, like she was deciding whether or not she liked a new blender. Looks-wise, Steph was his typical type to a T. Small, blond, blue-eyed, delicate looking. But she was tough as shit, sassy, and a ball-buster. That’s where the appeal ended for him. Who the hell wanted a back-talking woman full of snark?

Not him.

Dressed in black pants that hugged her legs and a skin-tight Hell’s Handlers T-shirt under a leather jacket, Steph nuzzled her nose into the crook of Maverick’s neck. She was always wearing Handlers’ shit. Mav seemed to have some fetish for the club’s name scrawled across her tits.

Speaking of, the man in question leaned in and whispered something in Stephanie’s ear that had her turning bright pink. Those two had been known to get it on in public a time or two so Jig wouldn’t be surprised if they found a dark corner to go at it in a few minutes. Maybe another round of watching two near naked sweaty men wailing on each other would get her motor revving enough to throw caution to the wind.

“Can you two keep your pants on long enough to make it through the next match? I got some serious money riding on this one.” Zach grinned and rubbed his palms together.

“Oh, fuck, is this the one?” Mav looked like a kid about to dive into a giant bowl of ice cream. “Been waiting for it.” All three of them peeked at Jig then seemed to purposely avoid his gaze.