Page 23 of Jagger's Remorse

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"Protection. She talks, but stays under my protection. No kennels. No sharing."

"That's a big ask for unproven intel."

"Then let me prove it," I say softly.

All eyes turn to me.

"You speak when spoken to," Digger snarls.

But Squirrel holds up a hand. "Let her talk."

I straighten slightly, still on my knees. "There's a stash house in Modesto. 1847 Carpenter Road. Blue shutters. Key's under a fake rock by the back door."

I rattle off details like I'm reciting a grocery list. "Should find about three hundred grand in cash, vacuum sealed in the deepfreeze. Plus maybe fifty kilos of uncut heroin in the basement ceiling tiles."

Silence.

Then Squirrel starts laughing. "Well, shit. Little princess might be useful after all." He looks at Jagger. "Take Chord and Ripper. Check it out. If she's lying, she goes to the kennels. If she's telling the truth..."

"She stays under my protection," Jagger finishes.

"For now."

It's not perfect, but it's progress.

"Thank you," I whisper, pressing closer to Jagger's leg.

Playing the grateful prisoner.

His hand drops to my hair, an absent petting motion.

Like I really am his dog.

The gesture should enrage me.

Instead, it sends heat through my belly, because I know something he doesn't.

That stash house? It's real. But it's also trapped.

Silent alarms that will alert certain people when it's breached.

People who will be very interested to know the Iron Veins MC is moving on Sinaloa territory.

People who answer to me.

"Eat up, princess," Squirrel orders. "Gonna need your strength for what's coming."

I obey, playing my part. But inside, I'm counting moves ahead.

Jagger thinks he owns me. The club thinks I'm breaking. They're both wrong.

I'mexactlywhere I need to be.

And in approximately six hours, when they breach that stash house, the next phase begins.

I hide my smile against Jagger's thigh.

He absently strokes my hair again.

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