“It’s my free period,” Park said, tipping the bottle to his lips, wincing as the contents burned their way down his esophagus.
Boone studied him. “The year is only halfway over. You need to get your shit together. I cannot have you living in my office whining about Gift every day. Maybe you should send him back to his mama.”
A sharp pain stabbed through his heart at that. “I can’t. It’s…not safe.”
“You get how absurd that sounds, right? You think the boy is safer here surrounded by psychopaths than he is at home surrounded by bodyguards? Or do you just want to keep him close?”
Park clenched his jaw, trying to find his patience. “Of course, he’s safer here. With me. On a military base surrounded by armed guards. This is the safest place for him until Anchali neutralizes the threat against her family. Then he can go home.”
“What if he doesn’t want to go?” Boone said.
“He doesn’t have a choice,” Park retorted. “His mother won’t allow him to follow in her footsteps. He’s not built for this life. She protected him too much. He’s…soft.”
Boone said nothing for a long moment. “You understand he’s an adult, right? You can’t force him to leave the program. You may have been the reason he was accepted, but he’s more than pulling his weight. According to Pike and Brogan, he’s their top student next to Payton. The two of them are practically a dream team. Safe or no, you’re not going to get him to go home, so you might want to shift gears and think about how you can help him toughen up and protect himself.”
Boone didn’t get it. He didn’t understand how malleable Gift was, how easily managed, so much so that Park second-guessed everything he said to the boy, leaving their conversations stunted and awkward. What did a has-been killer like him have in common with someone like Gift? Nothing.
This life—the danger, the loneliness, the bloodshed—would be too much for his soft boy. It would just end up breaking his heart in the long run. “Gift is very smart. He’s been moved around a great deal, but he’s excellent in any academic environment. That doesn’t mean he’s meant for this lifestyle. This is just temporary.”
“If it’s just temporary, what do you care if he and Payton are fucking?”
Park felt like he’d been kicked in the face. “What? I didn’t say they were—that he—they’re not,” he stuttered. “I’d—I’d know. This—whatever it is—is new. Payton is pressuring Gift, and he doesn’t like it.”
“Christ, man. Just fuck the kid already. He’s not gonna stay a virgin forever. If you’re so concerned about Payton deflowering him, do it yourself. Do something, because you’re making the rest of us nuts.”
“Do it myself?” Park muttered, hating the way his cock twitched at the idea. “That’s not an option.” Park shook his head. When had this conversation gone so far off the rails? “Are you really okay with Payton and Gift being…intimate?”
“Intimate?” Boone echoed, amused. “This boy has you fit to be tied. When did the great Park Chen become such a prude?”
“I’m not a prude,” Park said. “I just have an obligation to his—”
“Save it,” Boone barked, cutting him off. “I’m not moving Payton or Gift. That’s final. You’re going to have to put on your big boy pants and find a way to deal with your little crush that doesn’t involve turning my whole school upside down. I’m sure you don’t need to be reminded how much is riding on this.”
As far as Park was concerned, this school shutting down was the best case scenario. The entire idea was ludicrous—a bunch of wealthy, spoiled psychopathic brats being deep cover operatives? It would never work. It couldn’t.
Psychopaths couldn’t be managed or controlled—he should know. He was one. At least, according to the psychiatric evaluation they gave him just before Kendrick had him retired. How many times had Park gone off-script? Taken out people who weren’t green-lit? Acted of his own accord? How many times had Anchali pulled his ass from the fire and covered for him?
That was why he protected Gift, and that was why he would keep his dick to himself. Like Payton, he was incapable of love or empathy or remorse. But he wasn’t incapable of loyalty or commitment. He was loyal to Anchali. He’d never betray her trust, not because he loved her, but because he respected her.
As for the school, Park was almost certain this program was a powder keg about to explode. “What’s the worst case scenario? They shut down?”
Boone tapped his pen on the desk for a few minutes, like he was contemplating something. Finally, he said, “Let me ask you. What do you think happens to these kids if this program is dissolved?”
Park shrugged. “They go back to being the spoiled progeny of some of the world’s richest and most influential families? Hardly seems like a hardship.”
Boone sighed. “I know they all seem painfully normal to you. I know you identify with them.” Park’s gaze shot to Boone, startled. “Yeah, I’ve seen your psych eval. For the record, I’m not convinced. But that’s neither here nor there. These kids aren’t just psychopaths.”
“What does that mean?”
Boone shook his head, like he wasn’t sure he should be having this conversation with Park. “Project Watchtower isn’t just about taking psychopaths and turning them into operatives. They didn’t just graduate college and get recruited into the FBI. This isn’t Quantico.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?” Boone asked. “These kids, these neurodivergent students…they weren’t just found, they were created.”
“Created?” Park parroted. “What does that mean?”
“It means they scoured the fucking world to find children who were exhibiting psychopathic traits at a young age and then they took them from their parents and placed them—not adopted, butplacedthem—with prominent families. Families who were given very specific guidelines, specific rules, specific promises. They told those children they were special, different, that the rules of society didn’t apply to them.”
