His gaze was distant as he took the slices from her. “Thank you.”
Scarlet threw the tomato’s vine into the sink and wiped her hands on her jeans. Outside, the sun was rising fast and the chickens were growing restless with their clucking, wondering why Scarlet hadn’t fed them breakfast when she’d been out.
“It’s so peaceful here,” Wolf said.
“I’m not going to hire you.” Grabbing the mug of cold and forgotten coffee, Scarlet finally sat down opposite Wolf. The knife lingered on the cutting board, just beyond her fingers. She waited until he was licking the last of the tomato’s juices from his fingers.
“So. What’s the story with the tattoo?”
Wolf glanced down at his forearm. The kitchen light was making his eyes sparkle like gems, but this time they weren’t making Scarlet flustered. All she cared about now were the answers those eyes were hiding.
He extended his arm across the table so that the tattoo was fully in the light and pulled the skin taut, like he was seeing it for the first time. LSOP962.
“Loyal Soldier to the Order of the Pack,” he said. “Member 962.” He released the skin and curled his shoulders, hunkering down in the chair. “The biggest mistake I have ever made.”
Scarlet’s skin tingled. “And what exactly is the Order of the Pack?”
“A gang, more commonly referred to as the Wolves. They like to call themselves vigilantes and rebels and harbingers of change, but … they’re not much better than criminals, really. If I can ever afford it, I’ll have this awful thing removed.”
A gust of wind rattled the oak tree outside the front door and a flurry of leaves swished against the window.
“So you’re not a part of it anymore?”
He shook his head.
Scarlet glared across the table, unable to read him. Unable to decipher if he was telling the truth. “The Wolves,” she murmured, letting the name sink into her brain. “And do they do this often? Take innocent people out of their homes for absolutely no reason?”
“They have a reason.”
Scarlet pulled the drawstring of her hood until it was almost strangling her, before tugging the material back out again. “Why? What would they want with my grandmother?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t tell me that. Is it ransom money? What?”
His fingers flexed in and out on the table. “She was in the military,” he said, gesturing toward the hallway. “In those pictures, she was in uniform.”
“She was a pilot for the EF, but that was years ago. Before I was born.”
“Then maybe she knows something. Or they think she does.”
“About what?”
“Military secrets? Top-secret weaponry?”
Scarlet scooted forward until her stomach pressed against the table’s edge. “I thought you said they were common criminals. What do they care about that?”
Wolf sighed. “Criminals who think of themselves as…”
“Harbingers of change.” Scarlet gnawed on her lip. “Right. So, what? Are they trying to take down the government or something? Start a war?”
Wolf glanced out the window as the lights of a small passenger ship skirted along the edge of the field—the first workers arriving for their shift. “I don’t know.”
“No, you do know. You’re one of them!”
Wolf smiled, humorlessly. “I was nothing to them, hardly more than an errand boy. I wasn’t let in on any executive plans.”
Scarlet folded her arms. “Then take an educated guess.”