Jackson (Mercy Ring Book 1)
Jackson: Chapter 18

Jackson remained light on his toes, dancing around Erik, watching him closely. He’d already taken a few hard hits, but he’d given them back, too.

He was on edge. Someone had infiltrated River’s home last night. And he hadn’t stopped the asshole. The guy hadn’t had a gun, but he’d had a knife.

What had he planned to do with it? Threaten her? Hurt her? Worse? He’d caught a glimpse of the guy’s face but didn’t recognize him as anyone he’d seen at the club.

Erik swung at Jackson’s head. He ducked before throwing a body shot Erik’s way, landing it on his ribs. The man barely reacted, dancing back a step.

Jackson swung the next two punches, letting the frustration fuel him. Drive him to hit harder. Fiercer.

It was just training, but it also wasn’t. It was a way for him to release the anger. What if he hadn’t been there last night? What if River had been alone?

Nothing had been disturbed in Ryker’s room. It could mean that he’d been there for River. Or he’d planned to hurt her before going through Ryker’s things. Either way, Jackson and his guys had gone through Ryker’s room that morning and found nothing that stuck out to them.

Jackson dove forward, driving the next hit at Erik’s head, then his body. The first was blocked. The second wasn’t.

Erik grunted a second before Declan’s voice stopped them both in their tracks.

“Time.”

Jackson stepped back, deep breaths rushing in and out of his chest.

Erik frowned, panting. “You sure you need my help? You fight like a demon.”

He moved to the rope, grabbed his towel, and wiped the sweat from his face. “I’ll take all the help I can get before my next fight.”

They’d been at it for most of the afternoon. And before Erik arrived, Declan had been inside the ring with him, drawing on the extensive combat training he’d received from the military.

Cole was shadowing River right now, otherwise, he no doubt would have stepped into the ring, too. No way was Jackson leaving her unprotected. Not after last night.

Erik nodded. “Fine with me. I’m always up for a round.”

Declan pushed off the rope, crossing his arms as he looked at Erik. “How did you get involved in that place?”

He lifted a shoulder. “I heard whispers. People in the boxing community talk. I live in the area, and even though I stopped boxing professionally, I still like to get in a ring or a cage whenever I can.”

Jackson hunched under the rope, stepped out, and grabbed two bottles of water from the cooler. He tossed one Erik’s way.

They’d cleaned the place up but hadn’t bought a fridge. They probably wouldn’t, not when they weren’t sure how long they’d be using the space. “Do you know much about Mickey?”

Erik scoffed. “Other than the fact the guy’s a jerk? No. I go in there, keep my head down, win my fight, and leave. I’m not interested in anything else that might be going on.”

Jackson paused, bottle midway to his mouth. “Anything else that might be going on?”

Erik unscrewed the cap of his bottle. “There’s always other shit going on in places like that. I stay out of it.”

“Do you know where the stairs at the end of the hall lead to?”

“The parking lot. Mickey only uses it for deliveries. It’s usually locked.”

Declan nodded. “What kind of deliveries?”

“Alcohol, I think.”

Jackson and Declan shared a look. Alcohol. That meant kegs, didn’t it?

Before either of them could ask, Erik was walking toward his bag. “So why did you take Ryker’s spot? I’m guessing you knew the guy?”

Jackson only just stopped the flinch. Knew. Damn, that sounded wrong.

“We were in the military together.” Jackson didn’t add that they’d also grown up together. That they were in the same team. That they were as close to brothers as you could get without actually being related.

He didn’t know Erik enough to trust him that much, so sticking to the truth while also being brief was smart.

Erik nodded. “Figured. You all fight like soldiers.”

Declan laughed. “How does a soldier fight?”

“Tactically. And you’re good at keeping the dominant position.” One side of his mouth lifted. “I’d know. I was a Marine.”

Jackson nodded, not surprised. You could generally tell when someone had been in the military by the way they held themselves. The way they watched their back, always aware of their surroundings.

“All right, I’m gonna head out.” Erik lifted his bag from the floor. “Call me the next time you want to train.”

The second the door closed, Jackson headed toward the changing room for a shower. He stopped at the sound of the door opening again.

When he turned back, his fists clenched, fury heating his breath.

His father studied the place before turning his gaze to Jackson. “Word around town said that you’d come back here.”

Jackson didn’t move a muscle. “You here to tell me what the fuck you were doing at Mickey’s club Friday night?”

Declan remained where he was, but Jackson could see his friend’s muscles bunching.

Brian’s eyes narrowed. “I’m here to tell you that if you’re smart, you’ll stay the hell away from that basement.”

Jackson could have laughed. “Since when do you care about whether I’m smart or not?”

His father’s jaw visibly clenched, but he remained silent.

Jackson took a slow step forward, his muscles vibrating. “What were you doing there?”

“The same thing as everyone else. Placing bets.” His father shoved his hands into his pockets. “And now I’m doing my fatherly duty. I’ve told you to stay away. Any trouble you get yourself into is now on you.”

Jackson was across the room before his father could turn, grabbing him by the shirt and shoving him against the wall. “Why were you taking a group of people into that office?”

“I told you,” he said quietly. “We were placing bets.”

“Bullshit.”

Brian tried to shove Jackson off, but he didn’t let the guy move an inch. “Who were those men talking to Mickey?”

Brian scowled. “They were men you want nothing to do with.”

“Do you?”

The smile that stretched Brian’s mouth had Jackson’s stomach turning. “You know I like a bit of danger in my life.”

Jackson’s fingers tightened, and he pulled his father away from the wall before shoving him against it again, harder. “What the hell happened to Ryker?”

His father’s eyes steeled. “He got too close to something he had no business getting close to. And if you wanna stay out of the ground, you’ll do as I said and stay the fuck out of this.”

River wasn’t happy. Jackson had planted Cole on her without telling her. She knew why. Someone had broken into her house last night. Someone with a goddamn knife. But Jackson could have told her what he’d done. Even a text would have been nice. Because the sudden appearance of Cole at her side had put a serious dent in her plan to talk to Angel.

She stepped into the boxing gym, searching the large space. Seconds later, the door to the locker room opened, and Jackson stepped out. He was fully clothed, but his hair was wet and feet bare.

His gaze went straight to her, his eyes darkening as they ran over her body.

No. She would not let the man distract her. She pushed down the rising desire. “Why didn’t you tell me Cole was watching me today?”

His gaze skirted behind her to Cole before skittering back. “It slipped my mind.”

She almost rolled her eyes. “Nothing ever slips your mind.”

He frowned. “How did you see him?”

Cole cleared his throat behind her. “I’ll leave you guys to it.”

There was the sound of the door closing behind her, then…silence.

Jackson took measured steps forward. “Cole’s good at trailing people. You would’ve only seen him if he wanted you to. So…why did he want you to see him?”

She crossed her arms. “Don’t you try to change the subject. Why didn’t you tell me you were having me watched?”

His features remained completely clear. “I see it more as protected than watched.”

“Yeah, well, it felt a bit more like six and a half feet of surprise surveillance. You should have told me. Not only is that the normal thing to do, but you and I are dating, or bed buddies, or something in that vicinity, so telling me you’ve got me ‘protected’ is the minimum I expect.”

His brows lifted. “Bed buddies?”

“Jackson—”

When he reached her, his hands went to her waist, his face pushing into her hair. Her belly quivered. “Mm, you smell good.”

When his lips touched her neck, she wrenched free, stepping back. “Don’t try and distract me.”

One side of his mouth lifted. That look was dangerous. It could easily have her dropping all her defenses, and he knew it.

He took a step toward her, but then his phone beeped from his pocket. He lifted it, frowning when he read the screen.

Oh, crap. If that was Cole ratting her out…

When his eyes turned back to her, they weren’t angry, but they were definitely suspicious. “How exactly did you work out Cole was trailing you again?”

So Cole hadn’t told him what happened…but he’d hinted at something. “What exactly did he just text?”

“He asked me to let him know if I need any more details.”

Snitch.

Jackson’s hand returned to her waist, and this time she was almost certain he was holding her in place in case she ran. “River—”

“I went to speak to Angel.”

All hints of playfulness left his features. “You what?”

She’d expected him to yell. For some reason, his quiet words were worse. “I didn’t even get inside the building. The second I got out of my car, Cole was in front of me, asking what I was doing, then he said I had to check with you first.” As if Jackson was her keeper or something. Cole had been one big annoying wall, blocking her way and refusing to let her pass.

“So if he hadn’t been there, you’d have just waltzed on in by yourself and asked if she knew who killed your brother?”

She crossed her arms. “No. I would have asked what was in the kegs.”

Finally, he reacted the way she’d expected him to. “Are you crazy? The woman could be involved in whatever’s going on at that club! Hell, she could have had Mickey or one of his guys in there with her.”

He was right. Hell, the whole thing could be a setup, for all she knew. But her brother was worth the risk. If the situations were reversed, Ryker wouldn’t be leaving a single stone unturned to replace her.

Her jaw set. “I need to talk to her.”

Not the right answer. Not if the tensing of Jackson’s muscles and the way he towered over her was anything to go by.

She hadn’t asked him to go with her because, one, it would have taken a hundred and one years for her to convince the man to say yes. And two, he would have wanted to go himself. Alone. And that wasn’t the deal she’d made with Angel. It needed to be her. Preferably by herself.

“How did you even get the woman’s address?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“She texted it to me.” She tried to turn, but this time he grabbed her with both hands, pulling her back.

“River—”

“This is why I didn’t tell you, Jackson. Because I knew you wouldn’t like it.”

“Damn straight!”

Again, she attempted to pull away, but his hold was like steel. “I’m going, Jackson.”

Was it possible the man just got even bigger in his fury? “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am!”

“You aren’t, River. It’s not safe, and I won’t allow it.”

Oh, she was getting pretty sick of this guy telling her no. Especially when Angel could be the breakthrough she needed to replace her brother.

For a moment, her eyes shuttered. She took a moment to calm her frazzled mind, allowing the frustration to bleed away and the rational side of her brain to take over. Jackson cared. That’s why he was stopping her. She had to appeal to that part of him.

Her eyes opened, and she touched his chest, her voice softening. “Please, Jackson. I begged Angel to talk to me, and she finally agreed. To talk to me. One time.” The next part was hard to say, but she forced the words out. “Come with me. Bring a gun, be my bodyguard, have your guys on standby. Whatever you need. But I need to be there.” She leaned forward. “This could be it. This could be where we replace the answers we need to help Ryker.”

This time, it was his eyes that shuttered.

Her voice lowered. “Please, Jackson.”

There was a deep intake of breath, and then he was looking at her again. “Fine.”

The air rushed out of her chest.

“But you follow my lead the entire time, and if I say we’re leaving, we leave.”

It wasn’t ideal. But right now, her options seemed to be that or nothing. “Thank you.”