Page 100 of Stealth Mission

I shift my hold on the metal cell door. “If that doesn’t work he can get my boss involved.”

Her hand unfurls from my shirt and presses flat over my sternum, making me freeze.

She looks up into my eyes. “Good. These bars are starting to piss me off.”

Blood pumping, I try to keep my hands to myself. “You and me both, sweetheart.”

A loudwhapmakes us both whip our heads toward the front door.

“Well, isn’t this fucking cozy.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

I jump back from the bars and stare at a gigantic man in the doorway. Eyes the color of glacial ice make a calculating sweep of the jailhouse.

For a beat, I’m panicked because this could be one of Sylverster’s meatheads. But then I realize I’ve seen him somewhere before.

My confusion grows when Peter steps through the doorway as the first man stalks inside.

Evan laughs darkly. “Look, it’s a get out of jail party.”

While I don’t feel much like laughing, I let out a relieved breath. “I hope so.”

“Marianna this is?—”

“His savior.” Muscles rippling below his short-sleeved shirt, the man fist bumps Evan through the opening between bars. “Marianna, good to see you.”

“Do I know you?”

He shares a glance with Evan. “We met once, briefly in Carollia.”

I blink at him, frowning. Then it hits me.The hospital.But he doesn’t say that.

Walt…I mean, Evanand… what's his name? Oh! Scout. That's it! They slap each other’s backs, through the bars. “Thanks for coming, man.”

I’m glad he’s here. Scout looks damned capable.

Broad shoulders. Lean muscles. A hard edge to his eyes and his jaw. Like he’s a honed knife edge.

And those eyes. They’ll slice right through you. Cold and cunning.

Oddly, I like him.

Maybe I’m a fool for dangerous looking men.

But this is good. I finally feel like I can breathe. I didn’t realize how good it would be to have backup.

Now I’ve got double with Scout and Peter here.

Grinning at his friend, Evan says, “Peter, this guy is known as Scout, when his ego isn’t overshadowing the sun.”

Mumbling, his buddy gives him a one-finger salute—the middle finger. “Like yours doesn’t.”

“Glad to see you looking well given the circumstances.” Peter gives Evan an appreciative nod.

“I haven’t been here that long.” Evan shakes the older man’s hand instead of fist-bumping. “I’ll be better when I’m out of here.”

Behind me the office door swings open. A small creaking on its hinges gives a small warning. Enough time for Evan and Scout to quickly take on stony expressions.

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