Page 113 of Jagger's Remorse

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I consider who would be the best for this.

I need people I can trust, but also people who won't baby me.

"Poncho and Mouse."

"Good choices." He doesn't look happy about it. "When?"

"Tomorrow. Today I rest, plan. Tomorrow I will remind Eduardo why he kept me alive."

"And if it's a trap?"

"It's definitely a trap. Everything with Eduardo is a trap." I lean back against the pillows. "The trick is figuring out which jaws to spring."

***

The next morning comes too soon.

I dress carefully—black jeans, tank top that shows the bandages.

I want to let them see I'm wounded but not weak. Jagger's crow pendant. My father's knife.

Poncho and Mouse wait by the bikes, both armed to the teeth.

"You sure about this?" Poncho asks, his good eye skeptical.

"No. But we're doing it anyway."

"Fair enough."

Jagger pulls me aside before we leave. "Anything feels wrong, you bolt. Don't try to be a hero."

"When have I ever been a hero?"

"When you took a bullet for Raven."

"That was a fluke."

He cups my face, thumbs tracing my cheekbones. "Come back to me."

"Always do."

"Scarlett—"

"I know." I press my forehead to his. "I love you too."

First time I've said it sober. First time I've said it without violence around us.

His breath catches. "Say it again."

"When I come back."

"Cruel woman."

"Your cruel woman."

The ride to Mendoza territory takes two hours. Every bump sends fire through my shoulder, but I don't let it show.

Can't show weakness. Not to enemies, not to allies, not even to myself.

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