Page 49 of Fighting Jacob

“Why not?”

“Because Lola won't press charges.” He breathes his words out slowly like they're as hard for him to deliver as they are for me to hear.

“Why? He hurt her. Did you see the marks on her neck?” I shoot out of my chair, needing to pace out the anger boiling my blood. “If Maggie didn’t intervene, he would have killed her.”

The door of the interrogation room flies open as fast as I rocketed from my chair. If Ryan didn’t dive out his chair to position himself between the officer who cuffed me and myself, I’d be kissing the pavement right now. That’s how much hate is in the officer’s eyes. He thinks I’m the criminal instead of the man who nearly choked a woman to death.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

With his fists clenched at his side and his veins pulsating, Ryan steps closer to the unnamed officer. “I’ve got this.”

Their intense showdown lasts for several heart-thrashing seconds before the officer finally relents. After a last sneer directed at me, he exits the room as quickly as he entered it. I stare at his retreating frame in shock, stunned about how badly he’s misjudged me. I might have just beat a man nearly to death, but I had a legitimate reason to hurt him.

While scrubbing a hand across his chin, Ryan pivots around to face me. “Please sit down before I’m forced to cuff you again.”

His threat holds no steam, but I stride back to the table and slump onto the black steel chair I’ve been seated at the past four hours. I’ve caused him enough issues tonight. I don’t want to add more shit to his plate.

It’s the fight of my life to remain seated when he discloses, “Lola supplied a statement to assist your case, but she won’t press charges against Callum.”

“So I’m pretty much fucked? Is that what you’re saying?”

He stares straight into my eyes but says nothing. His silence is all I need to know my fate. I’m going to jail for defending my girl. Would I change anything if I knew this would be the outcome? Not at all. I'd do it all again tomorrow if given a chance. Callum got what he deserved. I just wish Lola would add to his punishment instead of bowing out of the fight.

Approximately two hours later, a guy dressed to impress enters my holding room. His swanky suit and hundred dollar haircut assures me he’s not my lawyer—neither Noah or I could afford such costly representation—but if he’s not here to defend me, why is he here?

He unbuttons his suit before holding out his hand in offering. “Jacob, I’m assuming?”

“Yep.” I stand from my seat to accept his handshake. Once I’m extended to my full height, a smirk furls his lips.

“It’s nice to meet you; I’m Isaac.”

When he sits, I mimic his movements. “Are you my lawyer?”

He seems too young to be a lawyer, but maybe an intern was all Noah could afford. When you’re swimming at the bottom of the pond, you take what you can get.

“No.” He chuckles, amused by my reply. I don’t know why. “But I do have a proposition for you. You need a lawyer, and from what I’ve heard from Nick, you can’t afford one.”

“Nick...?” I leave my question for him to fill in.

He follows along nicely. “Holt. My brother.”

“Oh.” Ohhh.

Isaac’s smirk reveals he caught my extra “oh.” Nick and I are friends, but we don’t really get along, if that makes any sense? He’s a bandmate of Noah’s, but we don’t see eye to eye. Probably because he’s such a short little fucker.

My inward chuckles cease when Isaac says, “If you agree to work for me, my lawyer will get your charges quashed.”

“You want me to work for you?” Curiosity echoes in my tone. From what Noah told me, Isaac owns a dance club in Ravenshoe. When Isaac lifts his chin, I ask, “Doing what? I don’t dance.”

His chuckle bounces around my holding room. “I’ve got my bases covered at my clubs. I want you to be my fighter.”

His reply piques my interest, but not enough for me to forget who I am. “Sorry, can’t. I’m already fighting—”

“Not anymore, you aren’t,” he interrupts, his tone mocking. “The instant you were charged with battery, you lost the right to fight in a professional capacity.”

“What?” I’m too dumbstruck to form more than one-word sentences.

Isaac pulls out paperwork from a satchel he’s carrying before handing it to me. Each page is filled with examples of cases where fighters were prosecuted on assault charges. In every case, they were given a lifetime ban from fighting.

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