Page 28 of Jagger's Remorse
The kid mutters "Perdón" and steps back.
Joaquin circles her, inspecting.
"Strip," he orders.
"No." The word comes out before I can stop it.
Every gun in the room shifts toward me.
"No?" Joaquin's eyebrows rise. "You object to me examining my property?"
"She's already been inspected. By our ol’ ladies. She's clean."
"I didn't ask if she was clean. I asked her to strip."
Scarlett looks at me.
Not pleading.
Calculating.
Seeing how far I'll go.
"It's okay," she says softly. "I've survived worse."
She reaches for her shirt.
"Stop." I step forward. "You want to see merchandise? Fine. But she strips for no one but me."
"Possessive." Joaquin smiles. "I like that. Shows investment. But the cartel needs assurances."
"Then let me show you." I grab Scarlett, spin her to face the table. "You want to see what she's worth?"
My hands go to her throat.
Not squeezing.
Displaying.
The bruises from yesterday stand out purple against her golden skin.
"Already marked up." I trail my fingers down. "Already learning her place."
She plays along, letting her body go pliant.
Letting them think I've already started breaking her.
"Lift your shirt," I murmur in her ear. "Just enough."
She obeys, revealing the scars across her ribs.
"Los Zetas had her for three days," I announce. "She survived. Still has her mind. Still has information. That's not just luck."
Joaquin steps closer, interested in what I’m saying..
"The Delgado bloodline was always strong. Miguel was weak, but his daughter..." He reaches out to touch a scar.
I catch his wrist.
