“Dad. Put down the barrel. Now.”
His lips trembled as his attention shifted away, focused on the small delivery ship not a body’s length away from him. “She loved flying,” he murmured. “She loved her ships.”
“Dad. Dad—!”
Standing, her dad heaved the barrel into the back window of the ship. A hairline fracture cobwebbed out on the glass.
“Not my ship!” Scarlet dropped the hammer and ran for him, stumbling her way over tools and debris.
The glass shattered with the second hit and her dad was already hauling himself through the shards.
“Stop it!” Scarlet grabbed him around the waist and dragged him out of the ship. “Leave it alone!”
He thrashed in her hold, his knee catching Scarlet in the side, and they both fell onto the floor. A canister bit into Scarlet’s thigh but all she could think about was tightening her hold on her dad, trying to lock his swinging arms to his sides. Blood was on his hands where he’d grabbed the broken glass, and a gash in his side was already turning crimson.
“Let me go, Scar. I’m going to find it. I’m going to—”
He cried out as he was lifted away from her. Instinctively, Scarlet clung, still trying to subdue him until she realized that Wolf was there, dragging her dad to his feet. She let go, panting. One hand went to rub her throbbing hip.
“Let go of me!” Craning his head, her dad snapped his teeth at the air.
Ignoring his struggles, Wolf bound his wrists with one hand and stretched the other out toward Scarlet.
No sooner had her palm sunk onto his than her dad’s screams renewed.
“He’s one of them! One of them!”
Wolf yanked Scarlet to her feet and released her, using both arms to restrain her struggling father. Scarlet almost expected to see foam at the corners of her dad’s mouth.
“The tattoo, Scar! It’s them! It’s them!”
She pushed her hair off her face. “I know, Dad. Just calm down! I can explain—”
“You can’t take me back! I’m still looking! I need more time! Please, no more. No more…” He dissolved into sobs.
Wolf’s eyebrows drew together as he peered at the back of her father’s drooped head, then he grabbed a thin chain around his neck and pulled, snapping it.
Her dad flinched and, when Wolf released him, sank heavily to the floor.
Scarlet gawked at the necklace hanging from Wolf’s fist—a small, unfamiliar charm dangling from it. She couldn’t remember her father wearing any jewelry, other than the monogamy band that he’d taken off within days of her mother figuring out the ring hadn’t served its purpose and leaving him.
“Transmitter,” Wolf said, holding the charm up so that its silver sheen blinked in the light. It was no larger than Scarlet’s pinkie nail. “They’ve been tracking him, and, I would guess, listening in on everything as well.”
Scarlet’s dad hugged his knees, rocking.
“Do you think they’re listening right now?” Scarlet asked.
“Most likely.”
A firework exploded in her rib cage and she launched forward, grabbing Wolf’s fist in both hands. “There’s nothing here!” she screamed at the charm. “We’re not hiding anything and you have the wrong woman! You’d better bring my grandmother back, and I swear on the house I was born in if you’ve hurt one hair, one wrinkle, one freckle on her body I am going to hunt every last one of you down and snap your necks like the chickens you are, do you understand me? BRING HER BACK!”
Throat hoarse, she fell back and released Wolf’s hand.
“Finished?”
Trembling with anger, Scarlet nodded.
Wolf dropped the transmitter on the floor, grabbed the hammer, and smashed it with a single, clean strike. Scarlet jumped as metal crunched against the concrete.