Page 141 of Stealth Mission

“He’s funny, right? Jokes around. You know, he keeps things light.”

I nod nervously. “Sometimes, yes. He’s serious others.”

“Fuck.” He looks up and hardens his jaw. “This feels like I’m betraying him.”

“Why are you here, then Scout? You wanted to talk to me.”

“Because I like the fucker.”

I laugh. “It’s hard to tell. But that’s…nice of you.”

He looks at my face again. “He’s furious right now.”

I pull back, my heart skittering around inside my throat. “At me?”

“Oh no, sweetheart. But he’s one step from unhinged and he likes being there. Likes the feel of that scorching white-hot fire in his veins. It’s a survival mechanism for him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that he’s shutting us out, he’s going behind the wall of rage. And when he does, he’s probably going to be a dick to you and he’s going to make you think he’s got multiple personalities.”

When he stops speaking and just stares at me, I whisper, “You’re scaring me.”

“You need to go into this with your eyes wide open.”

This?

Clutching my throat, my voice comes out ragged. “He said the same thing. He’s going to finish this thing…whatever this is, and he’s going to walk away and hide behind his anger, isn’t he?”

Scout tips his chin. “Smart girl. Are you ready for a battle?”

“Do I look like someone that quits?”

His eyes soften at the edges for the first time. Scout is a hard man, but he’s letting me see something different. “No, you don’t.”

“Scout, I need to ask you a question.”

“One. That’s it. I’m out of answers after that.”

I make a little frustrated sound. “Why are you hiding behind armor too?”

He steps back. For a second I wonder if he’s going to answer me, but he heads for the house.

“Wait! What do I do now?”

Scout slows and looks over his shoulder. His eyes are shadowed completely by his hat. “Your boy is out back by your shed. He’s bashing the shit out of something with a sledge hammer. You’re going to need each other. I hope like hell you can hold on tight.”

Chapter Fifty-Three

A shadow crosses in front of the light from the back of the house. It’s the shape of a man. And I know from the sound of his footfalls it’s Justice.

“Go away.”

He throws a towel at me. I don’t bother reaching for it and the thing lands in the dirt.

With a loud grunt, I swing the sledgehammer over my head and slam it against the tractor tire, letting out a feral roar as I do. “Faaaaak!”

He’s silent.