He stiffens. “I don’t like unfinished business.”
“Even when the job is done?”
His jade eyes glimmer with something I vaguely recognize. “You know what unfinished business looks like, Doc? It looks like—” he pauses, eyes on mine, “it looks like your old pal Knight sending me out here to be babysat by you, because he doesn’t want to get caught for all the fucked up shithedoes to people.”
I bristle. “That wasn’t my call. You’re lucky.”
“Sure,” he says. “But you’re the one who’s taking orders from someone who’s technically beneath you,Colonel.”
“Watch it.” Turner’s eyes darken, and Gunner, his PTSD dog, lets out a bark.
Cade glances at him, then back at me. “You know what I’d do if I were you?” He tilts his head, every inch of his face mocking. “I’d put a bullet where it fucking belongs. Between my eyes.” He taps his finger against his forehead. “Why don’t you do that? Probably satisfy the sick needsyouhave under that tough boy exterior.”
I take a deep breath.He’s testing me.
I hold his creepy fucking stare, and let the room go heavy with it. “You’re not a psychopath. You’re just an asshole with a vendetta and daddy issues.”
Cade straightens and takes a step away from me. “You’re just pissed you can’t control me with your cute psychobabble bullshit.”
My hands curl on the desk. “Following my orders is the only thing between us and twenty years in Supermax. Or the death penalty in your case.”
“The death penalty would be a fucking relief,” Cade spews at me. “You don’t even fucking know. Knight didn’t want to leave me in there, because he thought I’d rat on him and his fuckery.”
I exchange a look with Turner, who has a hand on the top of his big black hound, as if he’s grounding himself through the dog. Honestly, I hope he is, because it’s been a while since we’ve been able to have any kind of session.
Cade leans back. “That’s what I thought.” He turns to leave the office, and grabs the doorknob, hand squeezing tight. “If you want to talk about control, maybe you ought to start with yourself, Doc. You’re losing yours. It’s all over your goddamn face.”
He slams the door behind him so hard that a few of the crime scene photos flutter to the floor. Turner stands statue-still by the window, then sags against it like someone’s let all the air out of his body.
“He’s gotta go.” Turner’s voice is low. “We can fix this. You know how, too.”
I purse my lips, shaking my head despite my own fucking murderous thoughts. “The kid has some deep wounds. If we could ever just get to the bottom of them…”
“You really don’t give up,” Turner scoffs, letting out a sigh.
“Not until I get the order to.” I shove myself back from the desk. “Let’s do a little exposure therapy. Come on.”
I gotta do something to make myself feel like I’m doing something right.
Chapter 20
Jenna
“Cheers, Dr. Williams,”Ian grins, holding his cup at chin height and sloshing it so hard he nearly spills on himself. “Here’s to surviving another week of existential despair teaching young adults. It’s truly not for the weak.”
I fake a smile, tapping my cup to his. “I prefer my despair with less crowding,” I say, glancing around us. This place is something right out of a movie, part bar, part restaurant—and peopleeverywhere.
He laughs. “That’s what happens when it’s one of the only places in town to go.”
“Noted,” I reply, and scan the room, thinking maybe by some chance my brother might show face. But honestly, I don’t see my brother being lost in some crowd like this. He’d be avoiding them.
“So,” Ian begins, grabbing my attention. “Tell me more about you.”
I feel the question like a tripwire, but I keep my face loose. “Not much to say. I’m pretty boring, actually.” I swallow a sip of my wine, and then set it down. “Sometimes I go for run.”Like running from my life.
He frowns, intrigued. “You don’t seem like the running type, but that’s cool.”
That almost makes me laugh. I pluck a fry from the basket, just as some of the other professors join us, having made their way back from the bar.
