Prologue
Fuckin’ A
Jagger
When Jagger first saw her, it was eleven years ago.
On his sixteenth birthday.
His brother Dutch had let Jagger use his truck and Jag droveby himself for the first time.
Where’d he go?
He went to his father’s grave.
That was another first.
The first time he’d been there by himself.
And it was the only time Jag could remember that he and hisdad had been alone together.
Well,kindaalone.
She was there.
Not with him and his dad.
She was at a funeral that was happening across the way.
When he first clapped eyes on her, she was in one of thosechairs they set up, right at the front, staring at the casket.
Jag sat, and he was supposed to be sharing part of hissixteenth birthday with his dad, but he couldn’t help himself.
He kept glancing over at her, mostly because she was pretty.
But he looked her way so often, he knew, eventually when hedid it, she’d be looking at him.
And eventually, she was.
She was so pretty, he didn’t think about what she was doingthere, he just thought about how pretty she was.
But when they caught eyes over those thirty yards dottedwith headstones, he felt the look on her face in the back of his throat.
Only then did he take in her surroundings.
There was a man sitting beside her and a guy maybe Jagger’sage sitting on the other side of the man.
But there was no woman.
So…
Yeah.
He wasn’t surprised.
He knew that look on her face.
He felt it.
