Page 39 of Jagger's Remorse
"Tell Eduardo I'm exactly where I need to be."
"Are you? Because from what I hear, you're chained to some biker's bed playing house."
A pause.
"Is he at least pretty?"
I glance at Jagger's silhouette.
Pretty isn't the word.
Devastating, maybe.
Broken in ways that make my mouth water.
"Pretty enough."
"You always did like your toys damaged."
His laugh scrapes old wounds.
"Remember what I taught you about playing with your food?"
"Don't get attached."
"And are you? Attached?"
My silence speaks volumes.
"Ay, mija. You're supposed to kill him, not?—"
"I know what I'msupposedto do."
"Do you? Because the timeline was clear. Five days to infiltrate. Two days to execute. You're already behind schedule."
"Plans change."
"Plans don't change. You change. You get soft."
His voice drops, intimate and threatening. "Should I come collect you? Finish what you started?"
The thought of Diego anywhere near Jagger sends something feral through my veins.
Not protective.
Possessive.
There's a difference.
"Touch him and I'll mail your balls to your mother in Mazatlán."
"There she is. There's my little dragon."
He purrs like I've said something sweet. "But the clock is ticking. You have forty-eight hours to put a bullet in his head, or we come for you both."
"Diego—"
"Non-negotiable. The family invested five years in your training. Time to see returns."
