Page 108 of Faith and Fury

I stop, considering. Maverick exhales.

“Alright. How about clothes? You got something to wear?”

I eye him up and down, drawing attention back to his shirtless chest. Do you?

He must read my expression, offering a taut smirk. “Touché.” He guides me into an old bathroom with chipped, black-and-white tiles. “Sit tight. I’ll be right back.” His gaze hardens. “I mean it—no slamming the door as soon as I’m gone. Okay?”

Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Okay to anything if it means he leaves me alone.

Maverick disappears for a moment. I turn to the shower, cranking the creaky valves, wanting to make it as hot as possible.

Maverick returns with a plastic bag, plus the bag I brought with me from Wilder Den. As I’m pushing him out, he turns, towering over me.

“Faith,” he says, lowly, “you, uh … you gonna be okay?”

I don’t think either of us know exactly what he’s asking—okay in the shower, or okay in general—but I know his concern is real, and it makes my inner omega twinge.

I pray he doesn’t linger on the other side of the door—not wanting him to hear the way my breath hitches, and trembles, as I finally step into the shower and let myself fall apart.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Faith

“They what?”

My ears perk up, peering around the bedroom door.

Maverick’s body appears in glimpses as he paces the kitchen. “Well … fuck. I’m glad she’s okay, but this is not good. Faith is gonna be pissed.”

I snatch my crutches, hobbling down the corridor. If he’s talking to Caleb, like I suspect, and this is about the mission—like I also suspect—then I need to know what exactly is going on.

Reaching Maverick, I thrust my hand out to take the phone. He looks down at me incredulously.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’m still here. It’s Faith, she—” he cuts off. “Yeah. Yeah, I got it.”

I hear a distinctive click as the line goes dead. Rage shoots up inside of me.

He couldn’t even muster the courage to talk to me himself?

“Don’t look at me like that, kitten,” Maverick sighs. “I don’t know the last time you talked on the phone, but I’m pretty sure that would’ve been a one-sided conversation.”

What happened? I sign.

“First of all—” he hands me his phone, “use this. Second of all, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.”

Scowling, I type, DID SOMEONE GET HURT?

“A beat cop. Couple ring guards got the drop on her. Luckily, she was smart—” he grins, “—like me. Had her Kevlar on, so she’ll pull through.”

THE GUARDS? I demand.

“That’s … where the bad news comes in.”

They got away, I realize instantly. God fucking dammit—those idiots let them get away!

I shake my head, glaring up at him furiously.

“I know,” he huffs. “Trust me, I know. But we’ve got our best scouts hunting them down.”

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