Page 48 of Stealth Mission

He hangs up his phone and curses as he shoves it in his pocket. “Damn strong-willed little brat.”

“What the fuck?”Seriously.This guy is a grade-A piece of shit. I have to lock my fists to keep from shoving his phone down his throat. It would make my damned day to knock those shiny teeth through the back of his neck.

I’m about to give him a piece of my mind about referring to any woman as a brat when the air shatters with the sound of breaking glass.

I clock around to find myself downrange of the bartender’s threatening glare. In front of the bar is a pile of glass. Formerly ahighball tumbler. No one else is around and there’s no way it got there except him smashing it onto the floor.

He crosses his arms, throwing a practiced scowl toward me. “I put your drink in a cup to go.”

Before I leave, I give Marcus the Mayor one more warning glare. “I’m sure I’ll see you around, and I advise you to not shake your daughter again or there will be consequences that you don’t like.”

That spiderweb Marianna was talking about just got shaken. There’s a new predator in town.

Chapter Nineteen

Well that was ridiculous. And now this.

Gingersnap. Not now. Not ever, preferably. But definitely NOT now.

Grrrrr!I clench the steering wheel until my knuckles are white and my head hurts.

How is this my life?I don’t want anything complicated. Just the simple things.

Like having the plants on the farm grow well.

I’d like to go to bed at night without worrying about money.

I want to be able to walk around town without being overshadowed by the oppressive storm cloud known as my father.

But right now, I want my truck to run.

But no… I get this.

“Gingersnap, please. Today is not the day.”

Yes, I probably look unhinged—freaking out and talking to my truck.

I shove a hand into my hair, knocking my ponytail askew, and groan into the stifling air.

If it wouldn’t give my father such pleasure, I would retire my grandfather’s faithful Land Cruiser and get something more reliable. Even though it would break my heart to put Gingersnap to pasture.

But that’s not happening. Call me stubborn, but I’ll never let Marcus see my weakness.

I lean back and close my eyes, trying not to think about my shrinking bank account.

I’ll repair her again. It’s going to hurt. But it’s better than trying to buy something else. For multiple reasons.

My phone rings, making my teeth clench.

No. Definitelyno. I wouldn’t take a call right now unless it was from a magic genie with a wand and a fat wallet.

But given the ringtone is one I hate—the ringtone I picked for the man my father has visions of me marrying—I know this is a triple-no moment.

Sylvester Stinkler… I mean Strickler.

Yuck.

A vision of his goofy blond hair in all its slicked back glory makes me stiffen. And as if that’s not bad enough, his chin-strap beard gives me a shudder.

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