Page 161 of The Vigilante's Lover

“This car is toast due to the little wretch.” Jovana has her hip stuck out, standing behind the man.

“I don’t think she’s going to fight me as we move to the other car.”He meets my eyes. “Are you now, love?”

His endearment makes Jovana press her lips together in displeasure.

I look him over. White button-down shirt, rolled up at the cuffs. Khakis. He has a laid-back air that doesn’t fit any of the Vigilantes I’ve met so far. But he’s wearing their signature watch. He must be one.

“I’ll be fine,” I manage to squeak out. My throat is raw. I’m terribly thirsty. I wonder what harm all these drugs might be doing to me. I have to get away from Jovana.

Or take her out somehow.

“I’m Mark,” the man says. “Part of the network. Friend of Jovana.”

I want to tell him that he’s no friend of mine, then, but his merry eyes keep me silent. I guess even evil bitches can have nice friends.

Or maybe he’s putting on a big show. I seem to remember Jax talking about mood-enhanced speech, early on, when he still thought I was the enemy.

God, how much things have changed in the week since I met him.

How much I’ve changed.

But I know such a training exists. So I’m wary.

“I’m going to untie you,” Mark says. “So we can move you to a new car. You’re not going to fight us, are you?”

Jovana shoves her head over his shoulder. “I hope you do, because then I’ll stick you with another dart,” she says.

Ugh. I want to punch her. I look away and stare at Mark. “I’ll be good,” I say.

“Excellent,” he says. He looks over the ropes. “Geez, Jovana, did you use every knot in the book?”

“No,” I say. “She stuck to grade-school versions. A mix of binding knots and a few pointless splicers. The only thing they have going for them is that there are so many.”

Mark raises his eyebrows and cracks a wide smile. “She’s a wily one, Jove,” he says over his shoulder.

“So she knows a few knots,” Jovana says. “Isn’t going to help her if I snuff-dart her.”

Mark starts plucking at the knots. “Did you see the update on Jax?” he asks her.

“I’ve been in a civilian car,” Jovana says. “I don’t know anything.”

“He got snuffed. Tennessee silo, about two hours ago.”

A searing pain bolts through me. What do they mean by snuffed? Dead?

“Good,” Jovana says. “About time they caught him.” She sneers at me. “I’m sure this one calling into the network on an open line is what did him in. Did you know she left my own watch in her car? Like tracking a teenager on Snapchat, it was. Took less than ninety seconds to find her.”

I’m still trying to understand what has happened. “Are you saying Jax is dead?” My voice betrays me, warbling and unsteady.

Mark gives up on untying the knots and flicks his wrist, dropping a knife from a holster. He cuts through the first set. “Yes, love. Alan Carter administered the dart himself. They broadcast the video of him going down.”

My stomach drops. It can’t be true. Jax can get out of any situation, anywhere. He isn’t dead. I won’t believe it.

I want to throw up. My belly heaves. I don’t even care if Mark cuts me loose or not. This is my fault. I called Sam. They found us because of me.

“Don’t fret, love,” Mark says. “He wasn’t a very good man.”

I want to hit him. “Yes, he was.”