IT TAKES TWO FULL DAYS of sleeping for me to get better. Finally, on the third day, I’m able to get up and my body doesn’t feel like it’s giving way on me. The last forty-eight hours are a blur, and I remember very little of it. What I do know is that now, my door is open, and I’m desperate to breathe in the air of the outside world. I know there are guards, but I just want to stand outside, just for a moment.
I walk out into the living area and the entire house is quiet. Jagger must be sleeping, and the guys must not be here. I shuffle toward the front door and am surprised to see it isn’t guarded. Heart racing, I twist the handle and step outside. I’m not about to run away, no, I just want a moment to breathe in the fresh air. I step onto the porch and see it’s raining out, not heavily, just enough that a cool breeze trickles through and the soft sound of raindrops hit the roof. It’s perfection.
“You need to get inside, right now.”
I turn and see a guard standing on the porch, his eyes on me, one hand on the gun in his belt.
“Calm down,” I mutter. “I’m not leaving, I just want some fresh air. Call Jagger if you need.”
I step off the porch, slowly moving down the front steps, and then I step out into the rain, close my eyes, tip my head back and let the droplets fall onto my skin. Probably not the best idea considering how sick I was just days ago, but I need this more than I need my next breath and oh, as the water soaks into my skin, I feel the world calming down around me for the first time in a long time.
“I warned her to get back inside,” the guard’s voice murmurs.
“It’s fine, thanks, Mick.”
Jagger’s voice is sleepy, groggy and god damned sexy but I don’t open my eyes. I keep them closed, my head tipped back, soaking in every second of this perfection.
“You do know you just got past bein’ very fuckin’ sick right?” Jagger mutters.
I lean forward and let my eyes open and I see him, wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweats, standing on the front porch, shoulder against the pole watching me.
“I know,” I say. “But I need this.”
I stand for a moment longer and then turn, walking back up onto the porch. I go over to the old, creaky chair that looks as though it hasn’t been sat in for quite some time, and sink into it, exhaling with relief and delight.
“It’s fine, Mick. I’ve got it from here,” Jagger tells the guard, and he nods before disappearing inside.
“Can I ask you something?” I say, meeting his gaze.
“Depends on what it is.”
“How did my dad end up in so much trouble?”
Jagger looks taken aback by my question and, for a moment, he just stands there, arms crossed. Then, he pushes off the railing and sits down in a chair across from me. I try to keep my eyes off his body, the perfect definition in his abs, the way his biceps bulge and do not get me started on those gray sweats and the things they do for his cock. No, this sick, twisted obsession has to stop.
“Started with drugs, always starts with drugs. He was a cop, you know that, and he went undercover to bust a massive drug ring. He worked with the people I work with, and we trusted him. He became one of us in an attempt to destroy every last one of us. He has information, information that could do just that. We’re not the only people who want that information. He went into hiding, protection, whatever the fuck you want to call it and well, here we are.”
“It was his job,” I say, crossing my arms. “If you don’t want to go down for doing illegal shit, then don’t do illegal shit.”
“It wasn’t just about the job, he was part of this, of us. We trusted him. Look, I stay away from the cops, they do what they have to do, and I respect that but he took the risk by going undercover and forming bonds with those men. He took an even bigger risk taking that information with him when he went into hiding, because he could have given it to the cops and he didn’t. He has a plan, and I need to know what that plan is.”
“And when you find him?”
Jagger’s eyes zero in on me. “It depends if he’s willing to work with us or against us.”
“If it’s against you?”
“He made his choices, Willow.”
“So you’ll end him, just like that?”
His face hardens. “If I have to.”
I shake my head. “You know, you stand here and talk about what he did wrong, but look at you, look at your faults. You’re no better.”