Page 67 of Jagger
“And a punk like you is gonna stop me?” Jon growls, and I sit upright, calling out.
“Stop! Jagger, let him in.” My voice is groggy as fuck, and my limbs are so heavy. I feel like I’ve caught the flu or something.
Jon stomps into the room, his eyes narrowing when he sees me. “Are you okay?”
Jagger appears next, rolling his eyes as he leans against the wall. “Isthisyour protection?”
Jon glares at Jagger over his shoulder. “I’ll snap you in half, boy.”
Jagger snorts. “Be my guest.”
“Jagger,” I warn, still not sure if he will listen to me. But he does, making a show of nodding like my wish is his command. “Jon, I’m fine. I was sleeping.”
Jon frowns and cuts his eyes at Jagger. “Want me to get the car?”
I can feel Jagger’s emerald gaze boring into me, telling me to stay. Begging me to stay. I lift my gaze to his, and I know I can’t leave.
Not yet.
Relief flickers over Jagger’s face when I shake my head.
“No, you can go.” I yawn, and Jon does a double take.
“What about Antonio?”
“What about him?” Jagger growls, stepping forward. His jaw ticks as he stares at Jon, his arms crossing over his chest.
Jon looks between us and sighs. “Whatever you want, Molly.”
Both men look at me.
Antonio feels like a different world right now. The thought of him makes me feel nauseous. “Don’t tell him where I am,” I say, but Jagger steps forward.
“Fuck that, tell him where she is. He’ll only come here once.”
I stare at Jagger. “What the fuck, Jagger? I don’t want anyone to know where I am.”
“Because you’re with me?” Jagger demands, his gaze burning into mine.
I can barely swallow when he looks at me like this; like I’meverything.“No. Because I want privacy.”
Jagger relaxes and shrugs at Jon. “Go then.”
Jon shakes his head at me before muttering, “Your taste in men is fucking appalling, if you don’t mind me saying so, Molly.”
“I’ll cut your tongue from your throat, you—” Jagger launches forward, and I jump up, my hand on his chest as I shoot Jon a glare.
“Go. Please.”
“Your taste in men? Who the fuck does he think he’s talking to?” Jagger shakes his head in disbelief. The vein in his neck bulges, his heart hammering beneath my fingers as I stare at him. “What?”
“Your heart,” I say slowly. “I can feel it.”
Jagger’s face twists into a snarl. “Don’t count on it.”
But his face softens when I peer up at him like I’ve seen him for the first time. I lift my hand slowly, like I’m about to pet a wild lion. Jagger’s eyes move from my face to my fingers, his breath catching in his throat when I touch him. He closes his eyes and leans into my hand, his other hand coming up to stroke mine, his lips moving to my palm.
I suck in a breath at the soft kiss he presses to my skin, holding it until he opens his eyes and allows me to see into his soul. Pain and regret dance with sadness in such a way it makes my heart ache.
