Every time I blink, I see him in the rain last night—breathing hard, soaked, shaking with adrenaline he couldn’t burn off.
He’d been somewhere else entirely, somewhere he didn’t come back from until he’d heard my voice.
The rain lightens, revealing a long line of taillights far ahead, barely visible through the mist.
It can mean only one thing.
Jagger straightens in the seat, posture tightening like a man preparing for his name to be called.
“Checkpoint,” I say lightly.
He doesn’t answer.
But his hand—the one not on the wheel—clenches once against his thigh, subtle and fast.
I swallow hard and keep my voice neutral.
“Should be routine.”
But nothing about this feels routine.
Especially not the man sitting next to me.
The line moves forward.One vehicle ahead of us now—a minivan getting waved through.
Jagger's scanning everything: the officers, the dogs.The secondary inspection area is to the right.His right hand keeps twitching toward his side.
"Jagger," I keep my voice low."Look at me."
He doesn't.
"Jagger."
His eyes flick to mine for half a second, and my blood runs cold.
He's not here—not really.He's somewhere else, somewhere dark where everyone's a threat, and the only way out is violence.
I stutter a hasty prayer as a female trooper looks at the truck and squints at Jagger.
God… please restrain whatever evil has its claws in him.Clear his judgment.Keep him from hurting the wrong person—or himself.And if I’m meant to help, show me how without making things worse.Amen.
The trooper pauses, adjusts her belt, then approaches, hand resting casually near her sidearm.Jagger rolls down the window.
"Morning," she says."License and registration."
Jagger hands them over.His smile is easy, practiced."Morning, officer.Beautiful day for a checkpoint."
The trooper's eyebrow raises slightly."Where are you headed?"
"Memphis.Pharmaceutical delivery."He nods toward the back."Got the manifest if you need it."
She studies the documents and looks at me.
"Ma'am."
I give her my warmest smile."Hi.Please tell me this won't take long.We're already behind schedule."
"Depends."She hands the papers back."What's your cargo?"
