❝ YOU KNOW, YOU'RE RUDE. ❞
❝ WOW, YOU'RE LIKE A DETECTIVE OR SOMETHING. ❞
Scout Wiley has two sides. The loudmouth mailroom girl who hates coffee, and the trained assassin who never misses her target. Thanks to years of training, these lives hav...
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HER EYES BURNED when she pulled into the driveway.
The entire drive home, Scout refused to blink. Or rather, she was so distracted that she forgot to. Her fingers trembled as she grabbed the key, pulling it out of the transmission and back in her pocket.
"I can't do this. I can't do this." She mutter under her breath.
It was only a matter of moments before she knew she would have to pick up her phone and make the call she was dreading all day. And if she didn't call? Her stomach flipped at the thought of it.
"Scout? What are you doing?"
She looked up and saw the familiar face of her mother by the door. Wheelchair and all. The sight of her made Scout feel even worse as she got out of the car and slammed the door.
Her mother smiled, "Why the long face? I made pasta for dinner."
"He texted me." She mumbled as she pushed backed her mother back into the house.
Scout looked around the neighborhood, glancing at any movement she saw before closing the door shut. The loud clicks of the lock could be heard for a few feet.
Her mother sighed, "What did you expect? He was bound to again."
She rolled her eyes and walked into the kitchen. This was one lecture she didn't want to hear again. The sight of her dog, Sumo, sleeping on the floor made her feel a little bit better.
"Sumo, come here buddy. Come here." She patted the floor as she squatted down.
The pup stood up quickly and ran, circling around from excitement.
"Scout, stop it. What did he say?" Her mother said, agitated.
She sighed and got up, "He wanted me to call him. You know what that means right?"
Her mother stayed silent.
"I don't want to do it. I won't. I'll just tell him to take a walk and find someone else to do it. I can't take it anymore, Mom."
"You know you can't do that. We owe him too much."
Scout scoffed, "We don't owe him anything."
"Oh really?" She pushed her wheelchair backwards. "What about the house? Or my medical bills? Or your job?"
