Brady started.
I couldn’t help but fret on the old adage,Don’t bring a knife to a gunfight.
Seemed like sound advice.
Still looking at me, Griffin said,
Then he mouthed,I love you.
As my smile bloomed, just for him, he told the others, too,
Layla said.
Brady chimed in.
said Hunt.
Which all left me sniffling and blurry-eyed.
Griffin said.
the rest of them chorused.
Then Griffin pulled out onto the road, with Bonnie lining up right behind us.
A breath before we reached the unmarked turn toward the institute, a horn tooted several quick, soft taps behind us.
I swiveled in my seat.
I breathed.
Layla said.
It was the fucking liars indeed.
They were driving an armored freaking truck.
24
Keep Our Eye on the Prize,
and Go Forth and Murder
We spared only a quick second for Griffin and I to goggle at each other before he and I hopped out of Clyde and ran to the armored truck that was now idling behind Bonnie.
Bobo barked in the back seat of Clyde until I sent him a telepathic, My good boy silenced immediately.
We joined Brady, Hunt, and Layla between the passenger’s side of the truck and the roadside foliage so we’d be somewhat concealed while we figured out how in the actual fuck it was that our lie-rents were in a freakingarmored truck.
The passenger’s-side window was already rolled down, anticipating our arrival. The man behind the wheel was strapped into a bulletproof vest and wearing polarized sunglasses that reflected our faces as he leaned across the seat so we could gawk up at him; the truck was tall enough to warrant a step bar.
“Dad?” I sputtered, momentarily overlooking how he wasn’t my dad at all. He was a geeky nerd who loved science more than was reasonable, average in just about every way but his intelligence. And now he was playing soldier…
“Yes, honey,” my dad said. “It’s me.”
As if I wouldn’t recognize him. As if that’s what I meant.
