Page 140 of Stealth Mission

Argh. The big lug. I blow out a breath. “Then he told me he loved me. THEN he tells me he’s not good for me.”

“See! Men are no good at love.”

I grab his shirt. “Vik, please quit talking in circles. I can’t take it anymore. I’ve had the worst week in history. I just need a clear answer about something.”

“Maybe he’s got an answer.” Vik tips his chin toward the house.

I turn, with my stomach bunching up like a spring, expecting it to be Evan. But it’s not.

Scout is striding toward us.

The look on his face makes my blood run cold and my already uneasy stomach jump into my throat.

“Marianna, I need a word with you.”

I’m trembling with worry by the time Vik stalks back to the house leaving Scout and me alone standing in the field.

It’s a scene straight out of a movie. The kind that makes you run to the kitchen to get away from the intensity.

Light from the house leaks out across the front yard, across the drive, illuminating a faded swath around us. It’s eerie. Somber, and paints a scene in my head that will never go away.

Scout hasn’t said another word. I’m about to run to the house to see where Evan is. I need to know he’s safe.

“Is everything okay?”

Scout’s mouth presses into a hard line. He takes off his hat and looks at the ground.

A cold feeling unfurls inside of me as my face goes slack. “Did… did someone die?”

His reply is quick and succinct. “No. Not yet.”

A rush of air whooshes out of me. “Okay. Just the look on your face… I thought my house was going to be surrounded by police tape and?—”

“It still could, this is not done.”

“Where’s Evan?” My voice is really raspy, like I’ve been screaming my lungs out.

“He… needed some time.”

Time.My throat goes painfully dry.

This is it.

This is him shutting me out.

My hand comes up and the palm presses against my sternum, settling over the wound there. “I see. What do you need?”

He smacks his baseball cap against his thigh and puts it back on again. “I need to talk to you about Evan.”

“What happened to him?”

“He’s fine.”

Tears claw their way up my throat. I take a step toward him. “No, I mean whathappenedto Evan? What makes him tick the way he does?”

This question makes Scout go stock-still. His gaze flicks over my features. When he speaks the timber of his voice has dropped lower. “You see him, don’t you?”

“I am trying.”

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