Page 116 of Jagger's Remorse
"Understood."
"Good. Oh, andmija? This time, make sure the death is real. I'd hate to discover another... performance."
The line goes dead.
"Shit," Mouse mutters. "He knows about Blade?"
So… this means that Mouse knows about Blade, too.
What the fuck is going on?
"Eduardo knows everything." I pocket the phone. "Let's go."
The ride back is silent, each of us lost in thought.
At the compound, I find Jagger in the garage, working on his bike. He looks up when we roll in, relief flickering across his face. "How'd it go?"
"Eduardo wants Blade dead. Says he's been skimming. Mouse knows something about it."
Jagger's hands still. "What the fuck?"
"Let's find out why he’s doing it."
We find Blade in his room, counting cash. He goes white when he sees us. "VP. Scarlett. I was just?—"
"Stealing?" I finish. "Yeah, we noticed."
The money scatters as he jerks back. "I can explain?—"
"Then do it. Fast. Because Eduardo wants your head, and I'm running out of reasons not to give it to him."
He breaks. Completely.
"It's my mom. She's got cancer. Insurance won't cover the experimental treatment. I just... I needed the money."
"How much?" Jagger asks.
"Thirty grand. Over six months. I kept track, was gonna pay it back?—"
"No, you weren't." I sit across from him. "You were gonna keep stealing until someone noticed. Until this moment."
"Are you gonna kill me?"
I study him. Young, maybe twenty-five. Desperate. Scared.
Exactly the kind of person Eduardo loves to break.
"Your mother. What kind of cancer?"
"Pancreatic. Stage three."
Fuck. Same as Jagger's mom.
"Show me the medical bills."
He scrambles for a folder, hands shaking. I review them. All legitimate. All devastating.
"Please," he whispers. "I'll leave. Disappear. Just... let me say goodbye to her first."
