Page 97 of Stealth Mission

“You should leave.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

I regret my tone instantly. But I need to get Marianna out of this.

Folding her arms around her stomach, Marianna studies me from across the jailhouse.

Scout better get here fast. And I hope he called our TL and the big boss back in the States. This cell now feels like a frying pan and Chief Willometa is holding a match.

I just rolled into town, fired my weapon in his town, and now he’s investigating a double murder that he doesn’t have a suspect for…

As if things weren’t jacked before, things just took a dark fucking turn.

Our team is looking for a missing woman.

And I’m an armed and dangerous unknown entity that just blew into town. I need to tread carefully here because this guy’s a loose cannon, and I’m in his territory with a fake ID and a hidden agenda.

Dammit to hell.

A conversation needs to happen, but not until I’m out of the cell—Agile always works with local law enforcement—but not when tempers are hot. Not when I can’t be sure this man isn’t as shady as I think the mayor is.

The seconds stretch out, agonizingly with neither of us speaking.

Until she goes all in.

“Did you murder someone? Two someones?”

Well, fuck. I press my fingers into the corner of my eyes.

“I’ve killed people. But not here.”

With a panicked expression, Marianna looks around. “Should you be saying that out loud? What if there are cameras or something?”

“It’s the truth. I have killed people. I have confirmed kill-shots in my record.”

Marianna shudders, unfolding and refolding her arms. “You just say it so bluntly.”

Maybe this is good.

She needs to know who she’s dealing with. I might be able to play the gentleman, but below that is a trained killer with blood-stained hands.

“It’s a part of being a SEAL. I know that can be hard to understand, but we are trained to find and eliminate threats. Sometimes, that includes killing people. It’s not something done for glory. It’s survival. It’s protecting the people and places you love under the direction of a military chain of command.”

The light catches on the sheen building on her lashes. She exhales and covers her mouth. When she speaks her voice is soft. “I know that has to be hard.”

Trying to feel detached, I reply, “It was my job.”

She looks at the floor, her body growing tense. “I believe what you said. I was worried for a minute that you could have killed people here. But I don’t think you did anything bad.”

Relief feels bittersweet inside of my chest. “No, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be a suspect.”

She focuses on me, expression even more serious. “I can help you.”

“No, you should go.”

“And if I refuse?”

My jaw aches from clenching my molars together.

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