Chapter 5
Jazzlyn sat on a dumpster in an alley, staring at her ankle. Smoochums chirruped on her shoulder as she ran her hands across the ankle monitor.
“I hate this thing,” she said. “Smoochy, wouldn’t it be so nice to just rip it off?”
Smoochums cooed.
“I can’t shoot it,” Jazzlyn said, aiming a gun at it. “I can’t cut it. I can’t slip out of it. I feel like cattle. On some stupid mission that doesn’t even involve me. Stupid UEA! Why did I have to get caught?”
Smoochums crawled into her hand and scurried around her palm frantically.
“I know you’re commiserating with me, honey,” she said. “But it’s not helping.” She tucked him away inside her dress and sighed. “I hate being forced to do anything. Even things I like.”
She climbed up a fire escape onto a roof. “Lax’s hideout shouldn’
