Page 61 of Jagger's Remorse
"Which is?" Squirrel presses.
"Taking Northern California. Her father's territory."
"Through us?" Digger asks.
"Through whoever's left standing," I answer.
Squirrel considers this. "And this Diego? He'll trade Mel for what?"
"Me. Dead. On video," I state.
"So give him that," Squirrel says simply.
"That's the plan. Fake my death long enough to get close."
"Then?" Squirrel asks.
"Then we kill him for real."
"We?" Digger questions.
"Scarlett and me," I confirm.
Squirrel's eyes narrow. "You trust her that much?"
I think about her beneath me this morning.
The way she said my name like a prayer and a curse.
The way she washed my hair like it was holy.
"I trust her hatred of him more than her hatred of me," I say.
"That's a dangerous game, brother," Squirrel warns.
"It's the only game left," I reply.
Squirrel nods slowly. "Take who you need. Get Mel back. But Jagger? This goes wrong, it's not just your head. It's your cut. Your place at this table."
"I know," I acknowledge.
"Do you? Because from where I'm sitting, you're thinking with your dick instead of your brain," Squirrel says bluntly.
"I'm thinking like a man who understands the board. Scarlett's not just some cartel princess. She's Eduardo Vasquez's goddaughter. Kill her, and we're all dead within a week. Keep her, use her, and maybe we come out on top," I explain.
"Or she burns us all," Digger interjects.
"Possible. But I'd rather burn rich than die poor," I counter.
That gets some laughs.
Dark ones, but still.
"Fine." Squirrel waves his hand. "Save the ol’ lady. Kill the psycho. Try not to die. Church dismissed."
The brothers file out, but Poncho lingers.
"She really got to you, didn't she?" he asks.
