Page 49 of Jagger's Remorse

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I'm about to respond when another text arrives.

This time with a photo attachment.

My blood freezes.

It's a picture of Mel—the sweet old lady who showed me kindness.

Bound.

Gagged.

Diego's knife at her throat.

The message:Insurance. In case you forget who you belong to.

I stare at the photo, rage building like a tidal wave.

This wasn't the plan.

Mel's innocent.

She's not part of this.

But that's Diego's specialty—finding pressure points and squeezing until you break or comply.

Another text:

Tick tock, little dragon.

I delete everything and hide the phone.

As I sit in Jagger's bed I plan Diego's death.

Right after Jagger's.

Or maybe during.

Details to be determined.

But one thing's certain—my dance card just got more complicated.

And the music's about to change.

***

Twenty minutes later, the door slams open.

Jagger looks like he's been through a war.

Blood on his knuckles.

Murder in his eyes.

"Ripper and Chord are dead. Poncho's missing half his face. Hammer took two bullets. And now one of our old ladies is missing." He stalks toward me. "Squirrel wants your head on a pike."

"But not you?"

"I want answers first."

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