Page 23 of Striker’s Rebel

Thomas nods approvingly. “Good man.”

Ruth elbows him. “You cannot congratulate people for fighting.”

“Why not? Sounds useful in this case.”

Then he studies Striker’s cut.

“What do we call you?”

“Striker.”

Ruth frowns. “No. What does your mother call you?”

Something flickers across his face so quickly I almost miss it.

“Braxton.”

Ruth brightens. “Braxton. Much better.”

I bite my lip.

His eyes narrow on me. “Something funny?”

“Not at all, Braxton.”

Oh, I like that more than I should.

Thomas introduces himself and offers his hand. Striker takes it, then turns to Ruth.

“Ruth,” she says.

“Ma’am.”

She practically melts.

I stare at her. “Seriously?”

“What?”

“He says one ‘ma’am’ and suddenly you trust him?”

“I’m old, June. Not dead.”

Thomas starts laughing.

Striker looks down, but I catch the grin.

“This is humiliating.”

Ruth looks entirely unrepentant. “Come inside. Both of you.”

“Actually, Striker is going to sit outside my door.”

Three sets of eyes turn toward me.

I realize too late what that sounded like.

Thomas opens his mouth.