Free Jagger: A Caldwell Brothers Novel by Chelsea Camaron, Mj Fields Page A

together as he looks at the screen.
    “Johnny Fuckin’ Law, what a surprise,” Jagger answers, and I strain to hear the man through the phone.
    I can only hear mumbling before Jagger replies, making a smirk.
    “Oh, now, now, coppa,” Jagger goads him, “I’m not playing any games.” There is a pause as the person responds.
    “Who exactly is she? If you’re looking for your momma, well, she’s choking on cock right now and can’t come to the phone.”
    I stifle a giggle at the brash Jagger who clearly doesn’t like this Johnny person. Something is said that has Jagger tense up.
    “Is that a threat, Lawman?”
    I hear the man on the other end say my name and my apartment being the scene of a crime. Instantly this is no longer funny.
    Jagger’s face pales, and my heart beats wildly in my chest.
    “Homicide,” I hear Johnny say and my heart skips a beat. Who was killed at my apartment?
    “No, I wouldn’t,” Jagger states calmly.
    There is mumbling again.
    “Why me?”
    “Rand had no enemies…except you.” I vaguely make out as Jagger looks to the ceiling.
    “I’ll meet you there. I am innocent, Johnny. I’m telling you that right now. We’ve been friends. You know me. You’re walking a fine line. Just like a field sobriety test, Johnny, you step off the line, you fail. Then you and I will be on opposite sides of that line. In this instance, our past won’t mean shit.”
    Jagger slides his finger across the phone screen, ending the call.
    “Fuck!” he roars in frustration as he rakes his hand through his dark-brown hair. Then he looks at me, and I fight back tears.
    My apartment is the scene of a homicide…what if it’s my father? What if it’s a reaction to all the pills? For all these months, did I do something long term to him? What if I killed him? I just needed relief. I needed safety. I didn’t mean to kill him. Questions scream inside my head, yet no words come out.
    “Sit tight, little one. Don’t let anyone in or out of the room other than room service. I’ve gotta go take care of something.”
    I reach out to stop him as he passes the bed. “Jagger, it was me,” I whisper.
    “What?” he asks with confusion on his face.
    “I did it. I’m the reason my father is dead.” Sure, it’s an assumption it was him, but who else could be dead at the building? When I left, he was snoring, but he sure wasn’t moving.
    “Little one, you shouldn’t listen in on people’s conversations. I sincerely doubt you killed your father. Johnny is just dicking with me. I’ll go down, answer some questions, and find out the truth behind all of this homicide nonsense. I assure you, Tatiana, you have nothing to do with this.” He kisses my forehead softly. “Order something to eat and charge it to the room. I’ll be back later.” Then he leaves without another word or even looking back.
    Emotions run rampant through me. Fear clinches my gut as I think I really killed him somehow, and then unease courses through my veins as I wonder what the future holds for me. Will I be sent back to Russia? Will I go to prison? Will anyone believe me about him beating on me? What happens next? Where will I go?
    Absently, I order some food and sit on the bed while grief and anguish consume me. My one and only lifeline is dead. No, things weren’t good for me, but he was all I had. He did the best he could. At least, that’s what he always said.
    Guilt fills me. I gave him too much antihistamine. He was an old man. Well, I don’t consider fifty old, but maybe he had a heart condition. The box did say not to take with certain medical conditions.
    I look around the room, then stand and go to the dresser, where Jagger has unpacked my bag as if I am staying here for a while. I don’t belong here, though.
    The knock at the door makes me jump. Looking through the peephole, I see it’s room service, so I pull the door back and wait as the man drops the tray on the sitting area coffee table. I scribble on the paper