Andy allowed himself a shark’s-tooth grin once his back was to Sharpe’s table. Sharpe wasn’t going to have Scooter this time, anyway. He put a little sway into his step, knowing Sharpe would be watching,and leaned into Scooter’s side, subtly, of course.
As soon as the kitchen door swung shut behind them, Scooter pressed up against one of the walls and slid down to sit heavily on the floor. “Oh God, oh God, oh God.” He was shaking hard and breathing like he’d just run a marathon.
Kat and Jason were watching with identical round eyes and surprised, delighted smiles. Kat flapped a hand at Andy, go on, so he crouched in front of Scooter. “Hey, you’re okay. You did good.”
Scooter curled up on himself, chin on his knees, hands lacing together at the back of his neck. “That poor kid,” Scooter said. “He’s got no fucking clue.” He banged his head against the wall in a sick rhythm, eyes squeezed shut. Thud. Thud. Thud.