"Do you think that you can trust him to give you good data if, for whatever reason, y'all don't pan out?"
"Of course. But…if we started something and it didn't work out, I feel pretty certain that he’d leave. Or I would.” I say, waving to Roly as he jogs down the stairs from the office.
“Wherever would you go if you couldn’t work with the Guardians?” she says, and I can almost see her smile.
“I’ve heard there’s a shop in Wimberley…”
“Exactly. Why don’t you come work with us now? That way you wouldn’t have to worry about working in the same place.”
“Can I assume that Therapy Hedy has been replaced by Recruiter Hedy?”
She laughs. “Fine, sorry.”
“Nah, you’re good. But there’s two reasons I wouldn’t do it unless I had to. First, if it works out, I don’t want to be on a different schedule from him. I could never go weeks at a time without seeing him, not if we were together.”
Saying that aloud makes me realize how much I missed him over the years, and I wonder if the ache in my chest has been there the whole time.
“And two?”
“Two, I like the smaller, one-off operations. You guys spend months chasing down a massive drug cartel, and that's not really where I shine."
“Okay, fine. Can't blame a gal for trying."
"I do like working with you, though. I'm glad we can collaborate from time to time."
"It helps us too. It's been mutually beneficial."
I smile and hitch my overnight bag over my shoulder. "Glad to hear it. And thanks for letting me unload all of that on you.”
“Happy to take your call anytime. Do you have any idea what your next steps are?”
“I’m going to give myself a few days, like you said. We’ve got a meeting coming up; I’ll see how he feels about the team and me.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
God, I hope I don’t make an ass out of myself at the next meeting.
I enter the gym, wrangling my focus. People frequently come to my Corner of Heavy Things, looking for a physical way to work through a thinking problem. Time to take my own medicine.
3
Ronan
“…Ronan?”
I startle and blink up at Thane. Fuck, he’s massive. And sohot. “Y-You were trying to get my attention?”
We just had a debrief of the entire East Texas op, and I’m starting to get overwhelmed again. It doesn’t help that we’re in the Guardians’ operation center which is housed in Everett’s tattoo shop behind a steel-reinforced door marked Portal To Nowhere. Just before we started, Anders pointed out that there’s an interrogation room in the back and, according to him, the name on the door is prophetic for the people who are taken back there. I decide to give that area, and possibly Anders, a wide berth.
“Actually, DB was trying to get your attention.”
“Oh.” I face DB and smile nervously. “Sorry, it’s a bit much to take in.”
God, I feel like such a loser. I’m educated, well-trained, and I was damn good at managing the criminal element under witness protection. It’s beginning to dawn on me, however, that transitioning from the U.S. Marshals Service to the Guardians is like asking a modern-day soldier to travel back in time and become a Gladiator. Their training wouldn’t exactly be useless, but the arena doesn’t give a shit about the rules of engagement.
“Understandable. Now that we’ve reviewed the op, I’d like to move on to the discussion of your position with this team.”
Anxiety runs riot in my belly, and I wonder if I can actually hold it together. “Okay.”
