Jagger
The cab drops us at my building just after noon, and my legs feel like they’re dragging chains.
Adena—who somehow slept on the plane—follows me up the stairs in silence, her boots quiet on the concrete.I unlock the door.She crosses straight to the coffee table, sets the Bible down with a soft thud, then taps the cover twice.
Our eyes meet.She doesn't say anything, but the message is clear.
She picks up her helmet from the counter."I need to pick up a dress for tonight."
"I’ll pay you back."
"Yeah, you will."She doesn't look back as she heads for the door and calls over her shoulder, "Get some rest, Jagger."
When the door clicks shut, I sink into the couch.Exhaustion pulls at me as I flip it open and scan the text, but my eyes won't focus, and in seconds I'm drifting, trying not to dream or think about how close I came to losing control last night.
Pounding on the door jerks me awake.I kick the Bible under the couch without thinking and pull my gun—safety off, finger on the trigger.
"Yo!"
I smother a curse.Paco.Just the welcome home I needed.
I exhale, lower the weapon, and unlock the door.
Paco pushes past me, agitated, pacing."Return driver called.Says there's a bullet hole in the side of the truck."
Ice trickles down my back."They didn't hit us."
"They did, hermano.Driver's side, just below the cargo bay door."His eyes are sharp, assessing, measuring my reaction."You too distracted by yourchica to notice?"
My mind races.I checked that truck.Three times.Twice at the motel before we left.Rechecked it at the warehouse before the crew started unloading.It was banged up, a few scrapes, but there was no bullet hole.
Which means either the driver's lying, or Paco is.
I meet his eyes.Hold steady."There was no bullet hole."
"Driver says different."
"Then the driver's mistaken.Or lying."I don't blink.Don't look away.
Paco stops pacing."I vouched for that driver."
The air in the room shifts.Tightens.Back down and I'm weak.Distracted.Push back and I'm challenging him, questioning his word to Marquez.
Either way could get me killed.
"There was no bullet hole when I signed off on that delivery.So either something happened after Memphis, or someone's got their facts wrong."
The silence stretches.One second.Two.Three.
Paco's jaw works.His fingers twitch—just barely—near his gun.
I don't move.Don't reach for mine.Instead, I hold his stare and let him see exactly what happens if he reaches.
The tension shifts as he glances at my grazed knuckles."What happened to your hands?"
"Someone came sniffing around Adena.Needed to be taught some manners."
He laughs—but there's no humor in it now.Sharp.Testing."She worth dying for,hermano?Because that's what Marquez is gonna think.That you're so busy protecting your woman, you didn't notice someone put a round in his truck."
