Soap slammed open the door to the safe house, yanking you in quickly. He was partly sure you’d lost them, but he didn’t want to risk being followed. His hand wrapped itself around your wrist and he glared out the window, before drawing the curtain shut.

Snow drifted down outside, foreshadowing what was to come. “Ah dinnae think we’re followed.” Soap’s hand had stayed on your wrist and he had yet to notice when he turned back to you.