“If you keep saying that—”
“Yeah, yeah, you’ll shoot me, push me off the roof, pull out my toenails.”
“Shut up.”
We see it—movement.
A man creeping along the bushes.
I can’t make out his face.
He’s wearing a black balaclava.
He tests the side window.
Crawford had Winnie leave the window half cracked like it was a mistake.
He said the front door would be suspicious.
It’s him.
Crawford makes a military hand gesture.
I need to shut up.
The man struggles then manages to jump through the open window into the house.
“Move out,” Crawford says in a low voice into the comm system.
Thirty ex-Marines swarm the house.
The guy’s in the laundry room, pawing through Winnie’s clothes.
He screams when he sees the guns pointed at him.
“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!” he begs as they throw him on the ground.
“Put your hands up!Put your goddamn hands up!”
“Winnie.” I grab her before she can run into the mayhem. “I need to get you out of here.”
“I need to see who it is!”
“Winnie!”
She slaps my hands away and grabs the mask off the intruder.
“Logan?”
“It’s me again. Hi. Oof—” He grunts when I kick him.
Crawford has to hold me back before I curb stomp the shit out of the little worm.
“Don’t be mad! I needed some of your panties.”
“You needed my—are you fucking kidding me?” She slaps him.
He starts crying.
