Page 134 of The Vigilante's Lover
I find something round and metal and hold it out. It’s a weird little device with a bottle attached. I push down on it and a vapor steams out of it.
Ha, a lethal gas, I bet. I hold my breath as Jovana blinks from the rushing of air.
She knocks it away. “What, you going to kill me with my asthma treatment?”
Damn.
She jumps on top of me, pinning my arms.
I’m screwed now. My breathing is labored, my heart crashing in my chest like a mad drummer in a punk band. She wanted me dead in my house. This might be it. The beginning and end of my Vigilante days.
“Who the hell are you?” she asks.
“Your worst nightmare,” I say.
Smooth, Mia.Quote a bad movie.
Her perfect eyebrow quirks up. Even with her hair all over the place, she’s undeniably one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. It’s not lost on me that she’s sitting over me like she probably used to do on Jax.
I go limp on the asphalt. I’ve messed up in so many millions of ways. Jax is going to kill me.
If his Vigilante ex-lover doesn’t first.
“What are you after? Money? Drugs?” Jovana’s expression is hard. “You picked the wrong bitch to mug.”
Light begins to dawn. She doesn’t know who I am. Like, really doesn’t. Hasn’t she seen my picture?
Of course, I don’t photograph well. Probably the only thing in their system is my driver’s license, where I resemble a strung-out meth addict. Plus, I’d tried to give myself highlights the day before, and it looked like I had spaghetti stuck in my hair.
“You got any cocaine?” I ask. “Angel dust? PCP?” I don’t know what the hell I’m saying. That’s all I can remember from some anti-drug lecture in sixth grade.
Jovana pushes away in disgust. “You filthy Americans,” she says. “Your self-destructive habits.” She stands up and snatches her purse. “Pick up my things.”
“You got cash, then?” I ask.
“Ugh, here.” She flings a wad at me. Dollars flutter against my chest and I trap them as if I’m desperate.
I shove them in my jeans pocket and pick up the items on the ground. Nothing special. Normal girl stuff. Lipstick. Mirror. Receipts. Then something. A strange silver wand. I pick it up.
Jovana snatches it from me. “Now scram,” she says.
I turn away and run.
I don’t look back as I dodge cars, weaving through them, my hands clenched tight. I pretend to stumble, pick myself up, and keep going. I slow down as I hear a door slam and an engine whir, the quiet whine of an electric.
She drives along the rows and leaves through the guarded exit. Only then do I stop and turn around to head back to the blue Acura. I could believe that I utterly failed in my task. If I wanted to stop her, then it’strue.
But I didn’t fail. She has a meeting with Sutherland tomorrow night she can’t be late for, not after her hissy fit. And I can’t wait to tell Jax that I know where she’s going.
And that she’s missing this.
I open my fist. Her watch is in my hand.
15: Jax
The corridors are a fun house of people, colors, and walls that don’t want to stay still.
I push through the crowd, my breathing labored, trying to focus, vainly hoping to keep my heart rate low, slow the poison down.
