Three hours later, Jayden and I fall onto a perfectly made bed with clean sheets, the smell of Lysol and bleach strong yet inviting.
"Mick has a much better work ethic," I state, making Jayden laugh.
"For sure. This guy is a pig," she adds.
"If he's a hustler, I hope the rooms he pimps his girls out of are in better condition," I respond. She turns over on her side, propping her head up with her hand. A question's clearly on the tip of her tongue.
"What?" I ask, turning my head to look at her glowing face.
"Why'd you shoot him?"
The mention of Landon makes my chest feel like it was just impaled. I wonder if Landon is alive. Is he at the hospital? In a morgue? Looking for me?
I take a deep breath and fiddle with fingers.
"He killed my mother," I whisper, not sure if she even hea
