"Business is fine."Paco leans forward, elbows on the scarred table."Luis is skimming."
The bartender glances our way, just once.His eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second before he jerks his gaze back to the glass in his hands.
My stomach tightens.I’ve seen enough to know I need to start praying.
Jagger takes a slow sip of whiskey, unhurried."You're sure?"
"Sure enough."Paco stands, and the casual atmosphere evaporates."Marquez wants it handled."
Jagger sets down his glass with careful precision and looks at the enforcer."Bring him."
The enforcer rises without a word and crosses to the bar.The regulars keep their eyes on their drinks.No witnesses.
"Jagger wants to talk," the enforcer says, quiet but firm.
Luis shakes his head.“I didn't—I don't?—"
The enforcer grabs his arm and drags him toward us.Luis stumbles, trying to pull away, but it's useless.The enforcer shoves him into a chair across from Jagger.
Luis is shaking so hard the chair creaks beneath him.His eyes dart around the bar like a trapped animal looking for an exit that doesn't exist.
No one’s coming to help him.Everyone here knows the rules.This is a show of force.
Jagger leans forward, and I watch the transformation happen.The man who let me best him in the cemetery disappears.In his place is someone cold.Empty.Dangerous.
"You've been skimming," Jagger says.His voice is flat, devoid of anything human.
"No—I swear—I wouldn't?—"
"Three weeks.Every single drop.”
"Maybe someone else—maybe there's a mistake?—"
Jagger's hand slams down on the table.
The crack echoes through the bar like a gunshot.
I don't flinch, but my heart rate spikes.Luis jerks back so hard his chair scrapes across the floor.
"Don't lie to me."Jagger's voice drops lower, more lethal."It’ll go worse if you lie.”
Luis starts to sob, tears streaming down his face, snot running from his nose."I'm sorry—I'm sorry—I was going to pay it back, I swear?—"
Paco snorts."Pay it back with what, pendejo?"
Jagger sits back slowly.His gaze shifts to the enforcer, then to Paco.His expression doesn't change.Doesn't soften.
"Take him outside," Jagger says."Teach him what happens when you steal from Marquez."
My blood turns to ice.It starts low in my stomach, then spreads outward, numbing my fingers, hollowing out my ribs.This isn’t a warning or a test run.This is real.This is what Marquez expects of him.Ofme.
Luis starts begging, his words tumbling over each other."Please—please."
The enforcer hauls him out of the chair.Luis fights, but he's no match.His shoes squeal against the floor as he's dragged toward the back door.The guy in the Saints jersey follows.
The door to the alley swings open.
The first hit lands with a sickening thud.
