“What do you want?” I grumble.
“I just wanted to know why you haven’t gotten to work yet on this fine Friday morning.”
“What time is it?” I reach over to grab the clock off the desk, and before I can get a look at it, Olive answers.
“It’s 6 a.m.”
“Oh my God,” I growl, and she seems to be amused by my distress. “Just go away, Olive.” I swat in her direction, and she shakes her head.
“Whatever.” She crosses her arms and turns on her heel as I reach over to Scout, who’s still in a deep sleep.
“Scout,” I whisper, shaking her lightly until her eyes fly open, and she blinks up at me.
“What time is it?” She rubs her eyes, squinting from the brightness of the room.
“Six.”
“Shit.”
“Let’s go?”
“Yep. Meet you downstairs.” She nods, and I jump out of bed and rush to my room, changing into the first clean thing I can find. After shoving my hair out of my face, I bolt out of my room, nearly running into Scout in the hallway, who is also already dressed in a simple yellow dress. I barely have time to stop and acknowledge how incredible she looks, even though she’s just woken as I take her hand. We sprint down the stairs, gaining the attention of some of the boys having a chat at the door. I almost don’t realize Van is one of them.
“Good morning, you two.” Martin waves, and I look at Van, who offers a kind smile.
“Van.” I nod, ignoring Martin, who I’m still a little annoyed at since yesterday.
“Tito.” Van nods back as we near him, opening the door before I can ask who will be driving us today. We follow him out to the car as quickly as he can go. There’s no way that he isn’t still recovering after the blow he took, but at least he’s well enough to drive.
We get into the car, and I notice the group of our boys getting in the car beside us. Guess that security measure is still carrying on from yesterday. Great.
The entire drive gives me comfort and hope that on one of the last days we have to prepare for our trial on Monday, we’ll be okay. I’m still entirely too nervous about it and frustrated that we woke up so late today, but if Scout needed the rest, then that’s okay with me.
I require her at top performance anyway, considering she’s such a vital part of our entire function as a team. When we arrive at work, a few cars have already parked in their usual spots. It’s weird being later than some of our team, but I trust in them and know they’ll achieve impressive results even without us there.
I help Scout out of the car, and we make our way to the doors, then through the hallway, and straight into the workspace, where a conversation is brewing that seems rather distressful.
McLaren and Arty are in the corner of the room by one of the work desks, looks of worry on their faces as they converse. The rest of the room freezes when they see Scout and I walk through the doors. Arty looks over at us first as I study them questioningly, and he taps McLaren in the stomach with the back of his hand to shut him up. McLaren’s eyes go wide when he sees us, mouth parts a little before he swallows.
“What’s going on?” I ask, and the tenseness in the room seems to increase. No one answers me, so I repeat myself again with more authority. A voice I rarely use with them unless it’s serious.
“Uh,” McLaren speaks up in his boisterous voice. “All of our prototypes are gone.”
19
SCOUT
My heart has dropped from my stomach to the floor, and I’m fighting the urge to run the hell away from here as fast as I can. I’ve been holding my breath, hoping someone will be able to come up with some reasoning as to why the prototypes are gone— besides the truth, my truth.
“Well, maybe someone moved them.” Tito offers, and I nod quietly like this is a brilliant thought.
“Nope. We looked everywhere.”
“Hm.” Tito glances over at me for a second, and I silently beg him not to ask me a thing. “Let’s just get back to work and use the tech we’ve already made. For reference.” They nod and make their way back to their work areas as Tito heads to his desk. I force my wounded legs to carry me over to mine as well and sit down gently so as not to disturb the bandages hidden beneath my dress and get right to work.
My body is slightly shaking because I know what I did, and I feel like everyone can tell I did it. It’s just nerves, I tell myself. They couldn’t possibly have any clue. And I shouldn’t feel guilty about any of my actions thus far, but it doesn’t stop the self-deprecation from keeping in. I only feel this way because my values are being twisted and bent in opposing directions. I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone. I never have, not when I took that deal with the FBI and not now. Yes, I need the money, and perhaps that was a factor at first. But the reality is, I wanted to keep people safe, whatever that looked like.
I’m doing that and thankful, at least I think I know who Tito truly is. When he opened up to me last night, I really felt his sincerity, and I was shocked at the idea that violence is not something his family seeks. In fact, it seems they’re trying to prevent it.