He was so done. You kept screwing up and it was starting to get on his nerves, especially with your most recent fuck-up. You guys were trying to steal one of the lootbags’ purse, but as usual, you dropped it and alerted the rich bastard. Stone had risked his neck to get you and the rest of the group out and damn near got himself killed. He plopped down against a wall and lit up a cigarette. He let out a deep sigh, occasionally angrily glancing over at you.