Damon glances at me, his brow furrowing slightly. “You good, Asher?”
“Fine,” I say quickly, turning back to the monitors. “Just tired.”
He doesn’t push, which is a relief, because I don’t have any answers. He’s always been good at reading people—one of the reasons he’s the boss. But I keep my eyes trained on the screens, not giving him an inch.
“You’re quiet this morning,” Damon remarks.
“Just focused on the job.” I keep my voice even. Distant. “Like we all should be,” I add quietly.
The silence stretches between us. I don’t have to look at him to know he’s not buying it.
“Right,” he finally says. The way he says it, like he’s letting it go but not really, grates on me more than it should.
The truth is, Iamfocused. I’m focused on the car that passed too slowly on the last rotation. On the possibility that Jason’s not acting alone. On keeping Mia and her kids safe.
What Ishouldn’tbe focused on is how Damon looked at her last night. Or how she looked back.
I clench my jaw, fingers tightening around the edge of the desk. This is getting out of hand. Whatever I think I feel, whatever tension’s winding tighter between us all, I need to shut it down.
“You sticking around the safehouse today?” I ask, changing the subject.
“For now,” Damon says. “But I need to dig deeper into Jason’s contacts. If we don’t figure out who’s backing him soon, we’re just waiting for the next move.”
Damon’s hand is on the doorframe when he pauses, his back to me. I glance at him from the corner of my eye.
“I did know her from before,” he says, his voice low.
I blink at him. “What?”
“When you asked before if I knew Mia… I did.”
I don’t move, don’t react. Just watch him from my chair, waiting. He’s never been one for personal confessions, so if he’s offering this now, it’s calculated. Controlled.
“Go on,” I say, keeping my tone even.
Damon exhales sharply, turning back to face me. His expression is carefully neutral, but I know him too well. There’s something under the surface.
“We crossed paths on base,” he says finally. “She was stationed there as a nurse. I was... around.”
“Around,” I repeat, unimpressed. “That’s vague as hell. You don’t do vague, Damon.”
His jaw tightens, and I see the internal battle playing out in real time. Finally, he relents.
“She was in a bad situation. I helped her out.”
“Bad situation,” I echo, my fingers tapping against the desk. “You mean Jason.”
Damon’s silence is all the confirmation I need.
“And now here we are,” I say. “Jason’s back, and suddenly you’re the one keeping her safe again. What are the odds?”
His shoulders stiffen. “I didn’t plan this.”
“But you sure as hell aren’t walking away from it, either.”
His eyes flash. “Would you?”
I don’t answer, because we both know the truth.
