Page 61 of Rogue Mission

“Awww,” he rumbles, hugging me. “Let’s get you some food and some sleep.”

“Longest day ever,” Truck grumbles as he climbs into the driver’s seat. Evan gets in on one side of me, Justice on the other, making sure that I’m buckled up tight.

They all check their weapons before we leave the lot.

“You guys seem a little…keyed up,” I remark, feeling a little claustrophobic with all the testosterone.

They share a quick glance before each of them scans the passing terrain like hawks surveying their domain.

“Is there a reason for you to be on high alert?”

“We want to make sure you’re safe.”

There’s a whole lot that’s unsaid in that reply. “Is this related to why you left with Beast earlier?”

When Justice scrubs his hand down his thigh, there’s a distinct tremor.

“You should tell her,” Truck says, glancing in the mirror. “Allison wants things straight. I’m pretty sure that Rosalie does too.”

A cold pit forms in my empty stomach. “Yes. You’re right,” I reply turning to look at Justice.

He’s avoiding looking at me. At least for a beat, he does, then he reaches for my face, brushing his thumb over my cheek.

When he finally speaks, there’s a hard, rough edge to his words. “Someone ordered a hit on you.”

“Me?Me?”

When I press my palm to my chest, there’s a very heavy snare-drum beating behind my sternum.

“That’s why I was going back to Westerly’s.”

“Do you think Allison’s father really ordered it?” Evan asks.

They go back and forth for a few minutes talking through the case with Patrick Westerly.

Truck’s tone is biting when he says, “That man did terrible things to Allison, sent dangerous men to pursue her. We still don’t know why he raised her, even though he’s not her father. It’s all very secretive.”

My gaze ping-pongs between them, but the pit in my stomach is growing. “Poor Allison, I can’t imagine. Do you think he’d want me killed because of something I saw in the labs at his place?”

“That’s my guess,” Justice says, gaze out the window, body vibrating with anger. “I don’t really care about the why. I’m going to eliminate the how.”

“Well, on a lighter note,” I laugh darkly, in dismay we’re talking about murder and other villainous things. “I think I’m ready for a career change.”

“Why?” Justice asks sharply. “Did they scare you away from being in a lab again?”

“Oh no, it’s not that. I don’t know.” I shrug and wish I hadn’t because my ribs protest. “I just feel different, like that was the old me. Dying was…eye opening. It’s not bad. As a matter of fact, I’m grateful.”

Justice shakes his head, and for a second, something darker flickers through his expression.

“We talked about this, it wasn’t your fault,” I say quietly, snuggling against his shoulder.

“I know, but it doesn’t make me feel any better about it.”

“Hey, I got to see some pretty interesting things on the other side. It was a wild ride. Now I don’t feel like the old me.”

Truck gets a glint in his eyes in the rearview mirror as he drives. Almost as if he’s amused, he asks, “You’re not thinking about staying home and baking cookies all day are you?”

“Fuck you,” Justice rumbles and flips him off, but he’s also amused.