Chapter 9
Jazzlyn had been eyeing the bakery for a few hours. She couldn’t resist the delicious smells of doughnuts, danishes and coffee. She sat on the patio of a coffee shop across the street as people passed by laughing and cheering and talking.
She wore sunglasses, a brown gabardine jacket, and jeans. She read the news about Crenshaw’s latest attack on a digital screen but kept one eye on the bakery. She watched as the baking staff locked up all the displays, wheeled bread into the back and shut off the lights. One of the staff picked up an éclair that had fallen on the floor; Jazzlyn could almost taste it, the soft, creamy filling against her teeth.
“I’m so hungry, Smoochy,” she whispered. She wiped a cut near her eye that was still healing from her fight with X. “We haven’t eaten
