“Yes,” he said simply.
“And you know about Cade…how?”
“It was on his behalf that Marc contacted me,” Raymond said, narrowing his eyes. “Did you not know?”
“Last I checked, Cade was as broke as I am,” I said with a snort. “And no offense, but you scream expensive to hire.”
“The Wilcoms aren’t the only ones footing my bill,” he said, watching me.
“Cade’s parents? They don’t have much money either,” I said, remembering that although his family was doing better, they weren’t rich enough for this guy.
“My fees are being covered by more than one party.”
“Who the fuck?—”
“Let’s see, your sister and her husband are also putting up money. Mr. Wilcom contacted her. As well, we have other families here…Bassey, Clark, Kines, Morrow are all names on the list.”
I sat back, my eyes stinging. “All of them? They’re…they’re all there?”
Raymond looked up, and the stony expression on his face softened. “These were?—”
“The men I served with the longest…as a group, before I was taken out of action after taking a bullet to the lung. All but Cade were killed in action a few months later, so there was no team for me to be assigned back to, and I…” I closed my eyes because to keep them open invited tears I didn’t want to shed. “I never spoke to any of their families. Not once after they died. And they’re…God save me.”
“I believe it’s the loved ones of your former teammates who are doing the saving right now,” Raymond said in a gentle voice that felt so odd coming from him. “Headed by Cayden.”
“Of course,” I said, trying to clear my voice of the thick rock lodged in my throat, but it was impossible. “I’m sorry, I?—”
“Take as long as you need,” he said. “We have plenty.”
I took a deep breath. “I doubt that.”
“Well, I would like to go over the basics with you, jot down notes and anything that comes to me,” he admitted. “But I understand that you’re dealing with the understanding that you weren’t on your own as much as you thought.”
“Don’t,” I said with a strangled laugh. “You’re going to make me cry, and I don’t want to cry right now, not in this building, not where any of those fuckers could?—”
“Then perhaps it might help you to know that after you and I have spoken, I’m going to ensure you are given the chance to shower and change, and you’ll be allowed an unsupervised visit.”
“My sister? Or?—”
“Mr. Wilcom.”
I bowed my head and sighed. “Of course he’s here. I should have known that fucker wouldn’t give up that easily. He was always so hardheaded and didn’t know when to quit.”
Raymond gave a low chuckle and tapped the stack of files before him. “You two are kindred spirits then.”
“He’s a better man than me,” I said and shook my head, leaning forward. “Alright, lawyer me.”
Raymond smiled, but he pulled something out of the folders, keeping the pen in his hand and began.
* * *
It wasweird how much pleasure you got out of a brief, rather shitty shower after not being allowed to take one for three days. It was something I experienced from the time I served, but I suppose that was one thing I had been spoiled with once I’d returned to civilian life. It was cold, brief, and not all that satisfying, but by the time I was putting on new clothes, if the sacks pretending to be clothes they gave me counted, I felt like a different person.
“Oh,” I said, coming to a stop as I exited the room and saw a familiar face. “Agent Smith? We’ve gotta stop meeting like this. I’m starting to feel you might have a crush on me.”
“Don’t push your luck,” he told me stiffly.
“My luck was pushed from the first time I ever found myself under fire,” I told him with a smirk. “Do you know what that’s like? Or have you always let other people do the hard stuff for you?”
