"You're going to train me?"
"Jace is. He's the better teacher." Jagger's mouth quirks. "Jinx is too impatient and I’ll just want to fuck you."
"Shocking."
He stands, starts gathering the documents. "Rest. We'll go through everything in detail when you're stronger."
"Jagger, wait."
He pauses, looks back at me.
"Thank you," I say. "For… caring. And for exposing all of this.”
"Thank Aurelio Bonaccorso. He's the one who got us the evidence."
"I'm not thanking him. I'm thanking you." I hold his gaze. "You could have walked away. After Geneva, after Webb, after everything went wrong. You could have decided I wasn't worth the trouble."
"You're worth everything." He says it simply, like it's obvious before releasing an exasperated breath. Like there's no other possible answer. "Now sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."
He settles back into the chair by the window. The others file out, taking the documents with them to study in detail. I close my eyes, letting the darkness take me.
My grandmother was one ofthem. My mother lived with that secret until it killed her. My entire family tree is rooted in atrocity. And I’m the only one left.
But I'm not them. I get to choose who I become.
And I choose this. I choose him. I choose war and retribution and building a world where darkness comes to light.
Chapter Nineteen: Jagger
Oneweek.
That's how long it takes for Jonah to ignore every piece of medical advice and start moving around like he wasn't shot a few days ago.
I find him in the kitchen with Elliot, the two of them bent over a cutting board, arguing about the proper way to dice an onion. Jonah is wearing one of my sweaters, shoulder half falling off him, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He's got a smudge of flour on his cheek and he's gesturing with a knife in a way that makes my eye twitch.
"You're going to stab yourself," I say from the doorway.
"I'm making soup." He doesn't look up. "Soup requires knives. Knives require gestures."
"Knives require caution."
"Caution is boring." He finally glances at me, and his grin is sharp and bright. "Miss me?"
I've been watching him for the past ten minutes. He knows this. He's been performing for my benefit, with his exaggerated movements and dramatic sighs, because he knows it drives me insane.
"You're supposed to be resting."
"I'm standing. Very restfully. While making soup."
"That's not how rest works."
"It's how my rest works."
Elliot snorts, stepping back from the cutting board. "You two are exhausting. I'm going to find Jace and let him deal with this domestic situation."
"It's not a domestic situation—"
But Elliot is already gone, disappearing through the kitchen door with a wave over his shoulder. Jonah watches him go, then turns back to me with raised eyebrows.
