Page 27 of Jagger's Remorse
The words hit like bullets.
I deserve them.
"Stay alive," I manage.
"That's the plan." She pats my cheek, condescending. "Try to keep up."
The common room reeks of tension and testosterone.
Joaquin stands near the bar, flanked by twosicarios.
Young ones, eager to prove themselves.
Their hands hover near their weapons.
Squirrel sits at the head of the table, trying to project power he doesn't quite have.
Not against the cartel.
Digger, Poncho, Hammer, Chord, and the others arrange themselves strategically.
Ready for violence but hoping it doesn't come.
"Ah, theprincesaarrives." Joaquin's gold teeth flash. "Come here,mija. Let me see what condition our property is in."
I start to move with her.
"Just the girl," he says.
"She's mine. Where she goes, I go."
"She's yours when I say she's yours." His hand drops to his gun. "Or would you like to discuss ownership?"
The room goes still.
This is the moment where brotherhood meets business.
Where we find out what Squirrel's presidency is really worth.
"Let her go," Squirrel says quietly.
I release her arm.
She walks to Joaquin like she's gliding across water.
No fear.
No hesitation.
Just that same patient predator stride.
One of thesicarios—the younger one, baby-faced but trying to look hard—shifts as she passes.
Their shoulders brush.
Brief contact.
Nothing anyone would notice unless they were looking for it.
