Page 83 of Jagger's Remorse
Because some things are worth dying for.
And against all odds, all logic, all sense...
We might just be one of them.
CHAPTER SIX
Scarlett
I wake before dawn, Jagger's arm heavy across my waist.
The nightmare still clings to me—Papa's office but different, Jagger bleeding out while I stand frozen, unable to move, unable to save him.
My throat feels tight, and I have to concentrate on breathing normally so I don't wake him.
When did his death become my greatest fear?
When did the man I came to destroy become the one person I can't bear to lose?
I look at him, breathing in his deep, even breaths.
It was just a dream. That is what I have to tell myself.
The sleep of a man who trusts the viper in his bed.
Some would say that makes him a fool.
They’d be right.
I slip out carefully, not wanting to wake him.
We'll need all our strength for Eduardo later.
But first, I need to check on Mel.
Once I hit the bed last night, I fell straight asleep, but she’s been on my mind since I woke up.
The compound is quiet, that pre-dawn hush when even the most dedicated partiers have passed out.
I pad barefoot through the halls, Jagger's shirt hanging loose on my frame.
I find Mel in the common room, curled on the couch with a cup of tea.
"Can't sleep?" I ask softly.
She startles, then relaxes when she sees it's me. "Not really," she admits. "Keep seeing his face. Diego's."
"That'll fade," I tell her, settling into the chair across from her. "The nightmares get easier."
"Speaking from experience?" she asks.
"Something like that."
We sit in silence for a moment.
"Thank you," Mel says suddenly. "For saving me. You didn't have to?—"
"Yes, I did," I interrupt. "You were only there because of me. Because Diego wanted to hurt me."
