Page 81 of Jagger's Remorse
"Maybe. Maybe not," I say, trying to stay optimistic.
"How do you figure?" he asks.
"Scarlett's his goddaughter. That will be in our favor." I reason.
"Or make it worse. Family business is personal business," Poncho points out.
He's not wrong.
I head to my room, find Scarlett already in my shower.
Steam billowing out.
Water running pink with blood.
I strip and join her without asking.
She doesn't protest.
Just leans back against me like she's too tired to stand alone.
"Eduardo called," I say.
"I know. I got the same call," she reveals.
"Tomorrow," I state.
"I know," she acknowledges.
"Any chance he doesn't kill us?" I ask.
"There's always a chance. Just not a good one," she admits.
"What do we do?" I ask.
"We go. We explain. We hope blood means more than business," she says.
"And if it doesn't?" I press.
"Then we die together. Isn't that what you wanted? Mutual destruction?" she asks.
"I was thinking more along the lines of mutual survival now," I correct.
"Romantic," she observes.
"Something like that," I agree.
She turns in my arms and looks up at me with those amber eyes that started all this. "I'm sorry," she says quietly.
"For?" I ask.
"Everything. My father. The war. Diego. Mel. The fact that tomorrow my godfather might skin you alive," she lists.
"I'm not," I tell her.
"No?" she questions.
"No. Because all of it led here. To this. To us," I explain.
