Page 3 of Reclaim

It’s understandable. He isn’t expecting me. With no warning and no time to prepare, he has no idea that I’m about to drop a bomb and change his life.

“Uh, hi, Mr. Michaels. I’m Emerson Lane, your solicitor.”

“It’s Jagger.”

It’s in this moment Joe decides to stand up next to me. Jagger purposefully turns to face him, his stare deliberate and intimidating. Tension radiates throughout his body, accentuating the way he fills out the hunter green prison wear. My eyes roam over the breadth of his shoulders, his sinewy and sculpted biceps, the way they refuse to be restricted by any amount of clothes. Everything about him makes it impossible to turn away.

My gawking is unprofessional and unethical. Shaking myself out the stupor, I gesture to his chair. “Okay. Jagger, please have a seat.” As we all sit down in unison, the two men continue to glare at one another, both insisting on asserting their power.

“How are you?” I ask.

The softest chuckle sounds from his throat, and a slight smirk graces his face, “Can’t complain.”

“Do you have any idea why we’re here today?”

He shakes his head nonchalantly, and the few relaxed seconds between us disappear. The muscles in his jaw return, prominent as ever. “Your eligibility for parole has come up, and the State Parole Authority has accepted your request for release.”

He lowers his head to his hands, and his shoulders rise and fall with burden.

“Jagger.”

He doesn’t respond.

Uncharacteristically my fingers itch to reach across the table. “Jagger,” I repeat softly. “Are you okay?” My hand glides slowly across the table, only to have Joe’s hand fall on top of mine forcefully.

“Ouch,” I whisper.

At the sound of pain in my voice, Jagger raises his head, and his eyes stop at our joined hands.

“Let go of her,” he orders.

I try to inconspicuously drag my hand out of his grip, desperate to defuse the situation.

“Excuse me?”Joe answers in shock.

“You hurt her. Didn’t you hear her?”

“Hey. Guys,” I interrupt. “Let’s not get off track here. Jagger, how do you feel about your news?”

Tearing his eyes from Joe, Jagger’s pools of sadness meet my hopeful expression.

“I don’t want it,” he announces. “I’m not leaving here.”

2

Jagger

She turns to the fucker beside her, “Joe, can you give my client and I some time together, please?” The blood in my veins is pumping hard and fast as my brain processes this irrational need to fight a man for a woman I only just met. Couple that with the news of me getting out of here, and I haven’t felt this off balance since I got arrested.

“What? No, I’m not leaving,” the prick argues.

“Joe, there’s no reason for you to be here.” She stands up, and he rises to meet her. She leans over, her mouth directly beside his ear. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but the look of disgust he throws my way has me on edge, desperate for him to leave. Nobody knows how much of a piece of shit I am more than me, but a look of insignificance and worthlessness from him has me wanting to live up to his assumptions, and punch him straight in the face.

He turns to leave. She watches him, and I watch her. She’s petite but not fragile, her chestnut brown hair falls in waves to the middle of her back. My eyes follow every strand, leading me directly to her peach shaped arse. She twists back around, catching me mid-ogle. Unable to look away, my eyes slowly trail the length of her body. She makes no attempt to move, and I make no attempt to stop. I see the blush start at the base of her neck, like a fire I lit with my eyes, rising up with each staggered stare. Her tongue peeks out, moistening her plump lips. Her nose is slender and pixie like, the bridge showing off a dusting of freckles she’s tried to conceal with makeup. Our eyes connect, brazenly and unrestricted. Curious meets ravenous.

I haven’t laid eyes on a woman in twelve years, but it’s more than that tethering me to her. It’s the fact that I know with complete certainty that nothing is closer to perfection than this doe-eyed beauty in front of me.

“Is he your boyfriend?” I shock us both. As soon as the words roll off my tongue, a deep ache settles in the pit of my stomach reminding me not only isn’t it my business, but that her answer doesn’t make a difference. My reality will never be hers. I’m Jagger Michaels, the friendly fuck up, and well... she’s flawless.

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