Jackson: Chapter 16

The agent held the door open for Jackson, Declan, and Cole. “This place has been empty since Larry passed away six years ago.”

Jackson stepped into the large, dark space, closely followed by his friends.

His chest clenched as memories flooded him. Of Larry letting him step inside the ring when he was still just a kid. Of the old man teaching him how to punch and kick and block an attack. He’d seen the anger in Jackson. He’d taught him how to be smart with his fists. Use them as protection against his scumbag of a father.

He owed a lot to the old boxing coach. The guy had trained him without asking for a cent of payment. Let him work out his resentment in a safe space. And then later, when Ryker had moved to town, he’d stepped into the ring alongside him.

He looked up, noticing the cobwebs spidering across the ceilings. Ceilings that didn’t look quite as high as they once had.

When he glanced back down, his jaw clenched at the collection of dust on the entrance desk. On the formerly well-kept boxing ring. Even the heavy bags that still surrounded the ring had dust all over them.

Larry would have hated it.

His gaze shot to the back of the room. There were closed doors that led to changing rooms on one side and a small kitchen on the other. And between them was another closed door, which led to Larry’s old office.

“Jill hasn’t been back since he died?” The words felt raw in Jackson’s throat. Not only did he owe a lot to Larry, but he also remembered everything his wife had done for him. She’d always been around. Offering food and snacks. Always a smile on her face.

Jackson should have come back, at least once, to say thank you to them before the old man had his heart attack. Jill had moved to Colorado after the death of her husband to be near family.

The agent shook his head. “No. I sense that it’s too painful for her. She’s had a lot of offers to purchase the place, but no one wanted to keep it as a boxing club so she’s turned them all down.”

Declan crouched on his haunches, running a finger along the edge of the ring. Dust coated his skin. Cole kept his fists in his pockets as he circled the large room.

The agent cleared his throat. “The place obviously needs some tidying up, but Mrs. Mercy has agreed to rent it to you while you’re in town. The rent she’s requested is low, given the state of the place.”

Jackson nodded, not caring about the work it would take to clean the dust and cobwebs. If he was going to enter that ring again and come up against someone bigger and stronger, he needed somewhere to train. And being inside this place right now, he felt something. It went deeper than nostalgia. Like he’d always been meant to return.

Cole bent under the rope and stepped inside the ring. “And we can rent it for as long as we need?”

“Yes.” The agent chuckled. “Mrs. Mercy sure doesn’t seem willing to rent it to anyone else, so having you guys use it beats the place sitting empty.” He fiddled with a folder in his hands. “I’ll step out for a bit and give you guys a chance to look around and chat.”

He handed Jackson the keys before leaving. Jackson moved across the room, unlocked the office, and stepped inside the small room.

Memories blasted him. The room looked untouched. Papers were scattered across the desk. There was even the old land-line phone. He’d always given Larry shit about how damn messy he kept the space. The old guy hadn’t cared one bit.

The guys stepped inside the room behind him.

Declan chuckled. “Not much of a bookkeeper, huh?”

“He used to say that any minute spent in here, was a minute lost out there in the ring.”

The ring was his life. People would travel from all over Washington State to be trained by the former boxing specialist. And before boxing, he’d gone straight from school to the military. It had been Larry’s constant talk about his time in the military that had put the idea into Jackson’s head. The man had changed everything for him.

He lifted a piece of paper, tracing Larry’s handwriting with his gaze. “I keep thinking he’s gonna walk right on back in here.”

“If the guy loved this place so much, he would have hated to see it empty like this,” Cole said quietly.

“I see why she hasn’t sold, though. He also would have hated this place being turned into anything other than what it was.” Jill was holding out hope that someone would come and recreate what Larry had built from the ground up.

They went back into the main room, and this time it was Jackson who stepped into the ring. For a moment, he felt like that twelve-year-old kid again. Angry at the world for the hand he’d been dealt in life.

“I still remember that first day,” he said quietly. “My dad had just beaten the shit out of me again, and I walked in here and demanded Larry train me.”

“What did he say?” Declan asked.

“He stood there for what felt like endless minutes. It was the only time I ever sweated under someone’s stare.” The guy might have been older, but he’d been big and could lay a guy out without blinking. “Then he told me to get in the ring.”

Cole’s brows rose. “He fought a kid who had no idea what he was doing?”

Jackson chuckled as he wrapped his fingers around the rope. “I swung a dozen times without landing a single hit. That was my first lesson. You fight with your head and take the emotion out of it.”

He’d been hurting. But then, he’d spent a lot of his childhood hurting. Until he’d found Larry. Then a few years later, Ryker and his family.

“You said there was a guy you could call who might come down here and help you train?” Cole asked.

Not just train. That was mostly a pretense, and Cole and Dec knew it. His team could easily help with training. “Yeah, Erik gave me his number. Said if I needed any help before the next fight to hit him up.”

For some reason, he trusted the guy. Call it gut instinct.

“Good way to get more information,” Declan said, crossing his arms. “We need to get to the bottom of whatever the fuck happened to Ryker, and we need to do it soon.” There was an undercurrent of impatience to his voice. An impatience they all felt.

Jackson’s fists clenched. “And I need to find out what the hell my father was doing there.”

He was just climbing out of the ring when his phone rang. He almost smiled when he saw it was River. He hadn’t told the guys about last night. And he didn’t intend to. Not yet, anyway. “Morning, Rae.”

Wind rustled through the line before she spoke. “There’s a camera in my house.”

The smile slipped from his lips and every muscle in his body tensed. “Don’t go back inside. I’ll be there in less than five minutes.”

Jackson watched as River downed half her beer in one go. Had they been at Lenny’s Bar and Grill for any other reason, he probably would have laughed. As it was, he’d taken her here while Dec and Cole searched her house for more cameras. If there was one, he was sure there’d be more.

“How long do you think someone’s been watching me?” she asked, the glass of beer hitting the table. “Since Ryker disappeared? Longer? Do you think they were for watching him?”

“We won’t know any of those things until we find the assholes who put the camera there,” Jackson said quietly. His own beer sat untouched. He needed a clear head to deal with this. Hell, even with a clear head, he was trying like hell to control his rage.

Someone had gone into River’s house. Installed cameras. Watched her. It made him want to go out and hunt down the bastard.

Her head suddenly shot up. “Oh my God, do you think there are cameras at Mom and Dad’s house? He spent a lot of time there—”

“The guys are checking there too. Your parents are out for the day, so neither of them will ever know.”

A long breath whooshed from her chest. She shook her head, and even though she cast her gaze around the room, he could tell she wasn’t really looking at anything. “Do you think it was Mickey?”

When he was silent for a beat, she cast her gaze back to him.

“I’m not sure.” Not after seeing those three men at the club and hearing about this Elijah guy. He didn’t need to know who they were to know they were bad news. “But I promise you, I’m going to find out.”

She swallowed, giving a small nod. “Distract me. Tell me what was so important you had to sneak out this morning.”

Ah, he’d been waiting for that to come up. “Is it still sneaking out if I left a note?”

“Yes.” Her response was immediate and had a smile tugging at his lips.

“I went down to my father’s trailer. I wanted to ask him why he was there last night.”

Stepping up to the door of that trailer, though…it had been like stepping into the past. Stepping into the personal hell he’d lived through as a kid.

River frowned. “What happened?”

“He wasn’t there.” A part of him had been disappointed because he needed answers. But another part had almost been relieved. Because even looking at his father, let alone talking to him, felt like having his insides shredded.

“Then I met the guys, and we went to look at the old boxing studio.”

River tilted her head to the side with a smile. “Larry’s place?”

He nodded. River knew what Larry and the ring had meant to him. Hell, she’d gone there and watched him and Ryker train a hundred times.

“Why?”

“We’re using the place to train while we’re in town.”

Almost immediately, his stomach cramped. Because he knew she heard what he hadn’t explicitly said. That his time in this town was temporary. He couldn’t stay.

Why did the idea of leaving suddenly make his gut feel like someone had punched a hole in it?

He knew why, of course. Because last night had felt right. She felt right.

Unable to stop himself, he reached across the table, placing a hand over hers. “I’m sorry I didn’t wake you. You looked too peaceful.”

She smiled, but it seemed forced. “It was probably a good decision on your part. I can be a grump in the morning.”

He almost chuckled. He knew that. He remembered what she was like in the morning, thanks to all those nights he’d stayed over at her family’s place.

He leaned forward. “Last night was amazing.”

Something flashed across her face. Something that came and went so quickly, he couldn’t quite catch what it was. “Really?”

“Yes.”

He could have said more. Hell, he wanted to say a lot more. But a second later, Dec and Cole were there, sitting at the table with them.

River tried to tug her hand away, but his fingers tightened. He wanted to touch her. Hold her. Screw the future. While he was here, he wanted all of her, all the time.

“What did you find?” he asked.

“Two cameras,” Declan said quietly. “The one River spotted, and one in a kitchen light.”

River frowned. “So, none in the bedrooms?”

“No.”

River’s breath eased from her chest, and the muscles in Jackson’s body, the ones he hadn’t even realized he’d been tensing, relaxed. Maybe whoever set the cameras thought they’d be too obvious in a dark bedroom.

Cole grabbed Jackson’s untouched beer, taking a sip before speaking. “We found a similar setup at your parents’ house.”

Her gasp was quiet. “How the heck did they even get in and out of both houses without being noticed?”

“When you don’t have great locks or alarms, it’s easier than you might think,” Jackson said. For certain people, it was child’s play. The question was, who were those people?

“We ordered the security system,” Declan said, addressing Jackson. “It’s being installed tomorrow. New locks will also be put on all doors and windows.”

Jackson nodded. “Good. I’ll stay over tonight.”

She remained silent at that comment. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand.

“I don’t think it was Mickey,” Cole said, frowning. “Call it a hunch, whatever, but after meeting the guy, I don’t think this is his work.”

“Me either,” River said, everyone’s eyes going to her. “He’s more upfront about what an asshole he is. Hidden cameras don’t scream Mickey.”

Declan looked across to Jackson. “What about those guys you saw in the club who were talking to Mickey?”

His gut clenched. “Brian sat with those guys once the fights started.” He hated the idea of his father being involved in Ryker’s death. He knew the guy was an asshole, but Brian had known Ryker since they were teenagers. “They sat in the back row, near the hall. But it almost felt like they weren’t there for the fights.”

He’d been standing so damn close, he’d almost expected them to get up and talk to him.

“I heard a conversation in the bathroom,” River said, eyes on her beer.

Jackson frowned. “You did?”

“Yeah. A woman named Angel was crying. Saying it was her fault Ryker died. Because she told him about the kegs.”

Cole leaned forward. “Kegs?”

She lifted a shoulder. “I was going to ask her about it but then we had to leave.” She wet her lips. “There’s something else. This woman Angel…her number was in Ryker’s room at my parents’ house. I found it the day of the funeral.”

Jackson shared a look with Cole and Dec. “Two more leads. We need to find out what’s in those kegs, and what this woman Angel knows.”

River straightened. “I want to talk to her.”

Jackson shook his head. “No.”

She turned a steely gaze his way. “Why not?”

“Because it’s too dangerous.”

River frowned. “She spoke about Ryker like she knew him. Like she cared about him.”

“I don’t care.”

Her frown deepened, and she tried to tug her hand from his. His grip firmed again, the slow grazing of his thumb continuing.

Her back straightened as if she was readying herself for a fight. “I’m going to get her address, and I’m going to pay her a visit.”

Like hell she was. “And how exactly would you get her address?”

Her brows lifted.

“You’re not going to tell me?”

River still said nothing.

Didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to let that happen. All she’d done was confirm that what he’d already planned was the right decision—he needed to stick to the woman like glue. Because there was no way she was conducting any kind of investigation into this shit on her own.