Page 8 of Harris

Brick immediately freed him and sprang to his feet fresh as a damn daisy before holding out his hand to help Woodley stand up.

“Been itching for a good workout,” Brick said. “You ready to talk through the plan?”

Woodley knew he was beaten, took hold of Brick’s offered hand, and was pulled to his feet. His anger had disappeared, leaving him no worse for the wear as all his wounds and bruises had already healed, and only the dirt on his clothing gave what occurred away.

“I hope it’s a solid plan.”

“It’s as solid as we can make it,” Brick assured. “Shit, you don’t have a mark on you other than some dried blood. Fuck, I could use that ability. I’m getting tired of patching myself up.”

Woodley couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, yeah. Looks appealing from the outside but try hiding that shit from outsiders. There’s only so many times you can come up with a plausible excuse before regular folk start getting suspicious.”

“You got me there, that would suck,” Brick said before slapping him on the back. “Come on in. I’ll grab you a beer, and Spence can go over the details.”

“I could use a beer,” Woodley agreed.

***

Harris

It had been almost twenty-four hours, and Woodley had yet to utter a single word to him or be alone in the same space. The man he’d thought he knew had turned into an asshole overnight, further confirming that sleeping with someone meant nothing in the end.

They were both out at the lake house preparing for the mission along with Jennifer and the rest of the Fire Lake team. Jennifer would be coming along as the only direct line of communication with Harris, but she’d sworn not to leave the rental house they’d secured. There was no chance he’d risk her being seen by the Noah Group. They’d love to get their hands back on her, and he’d sworn never to allow that.

“Man, I think he’s even more pissed than I am,” Jennifer said as she walked into the temporary bedroom Harris had been given in the lake house.

“Do I want to know?” Who else was angry? Or maybe a better question was, who wasn’t pissed?

“Woodley, of course,” Jennifer said as she fell back onto the bed as if she were falling into the lake, arms wide, not a care in the world.

“About what?”And do I even care? Nope, I don’t.

Jennifer rolled over and looked at him like he’d sprouted horns and a spiked tail. Some might consider Harris the devil, but his appearance hadn’t changed the last time he’d checked.

“You’re joking, right?” she asked, one eyebrow raised.

“No, I’m in the dark as to why Woodley is pissed. Oh, and also, I don’t give a shit.” Take the hint: he didn’t want to discuss Woodley.

Jennifer cocked her head to the left and said, “Are all men this dense?”

“I’m just special. Is there a reason you’re bothering me?” He’d had enough of thinking about Woodley and his issues. Harris had more important events in his future to prepare for, like getting up close and personal with the Noah Group all over again. Oh, and staying alive while doing it.

“Seriously, Woodley is angry you’re doing this.”

“What? Woodley wasn’t even bothered when I told him. Hell, he barely said two words to me about it other than wishing me luck.” Asshole.

“Was that before he came here and got into a fistfight with Brick?” she asked.

No one in their right mind picked a fight with Brick. That information had Harris turning to look at his sister. She had to be wrong because Woodley would be in traction in the nearest hospital if he’d fought the retired SEAL.

“Why the hell would he pick a fight with Brick? Are you sure?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s for the same reason I wanted to smash Spencer’s laptop against a wall before you made me give it back.”

“As I’ve already said, Woodley had zero reaction to my telling him about my plans. We don’t have that kind of relationship.Maybe he and Brick have their issues, but I can assure you that their fight had nothing to do with me. Now, if there isn’t anything else, I’d like to continue reviewing these reports Gunner and Conor sent back from their stakeout of the dive bar.”

“Fine, believe what you want. You two arefubaranyway,” Jennifer said as she stood, dusted off her clothes from some imaginary dust, and headed for the door.

“Fubar?” What the hell did that mean?

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