Page 25 of Jagger's Remorse
"I orchestrated my placement in the one location I needed to be."
The thing is, I believe her.
Five years of watching her from the shadows, and I never saw her watching back.
Never caught her hand in setting this trap.
Which means she's either the best liar I've ever met, or I'm already fucked.
Maybe both.
She stirs in my bed, stretching like a cat who knows she's being watched.
The chain clinks against the metal frame.
A reminder that she's my prisoner.
Except we both know that's bullshit.
"Sleep well?" I ask.
"Like the dead." She sits up, my shirt riding up her thighs. "You?"
"I don't sleep."
"Guilty conscience?"
"Something like that."
She studies me, amber eyes calculating in the morning light.
"You look like shit."
"Thanks."
"When's the last time you ate?"
The question surprises me. "Yesterday. Probably."
"Probably." She shakes her head. "You're falling apart, Jagger. And I haven't even started yet."
My phone buzzes before I can respond.
Joaquin. Cartel's here.
My blood chills.
They don't wait long to inspect their merchandise.
I text Chord:
Change of plans. Squirrel wants me here for the cartel. You and Ripper handle Modesto.
Three dots appear immediately.
Chord:
Copy that. We got this.
