“I've listened. You're pissed because I fucked someone for information. You think it's degrading or whatever middle-class sensibility you're operating under.” His voice went flat. “I don't need your judgment. I need you to decide whether you're actually serious about this or just posturing.”
My grip tightened. “If we're doing this together, you tell me first. Before you do something like that.”
“I don't answer to you.”
“You do if we're partners.”
“Partners means equals. You treating me like I need managing isn't partnership.” Cal pulled against my grip. I didn't let go. His eyes flashed. “I said let go.”
“Not until you agree to keep me informed.”
“Or what? You'll throw me around in a pub? Show everyone what kind of man you are?” But his pulse was racing under my fingers, his breath gone shallow.
I forced myself to release him and stepped back, put distance between us before I did something we'd both regret.
“I'm trying to keep you alive,” I said.
“I've kept myself alive fine without you.” Cal adjusted his bag, his face carefully neutral now. “But fine. You want updates? Nexttime I need to fuck someone for intel, I'll text you first. Make sure you approve.”
The sarcasm was armour. I recognised it because I used the same defence.
I reached out slowly and touched his jaw where the bruise bloomed darkest. His skin was warm under my fingers and he flinched slightly before going very still.
“Does it hurt?” I asked. My voice came out rougher than I'd intended.
Cal's eyes had gone wide, uncertain in a way I'd never seen on him before. “It's fine.”
“That's not what I asked.”
“Yeah,” he said after a moment. “It hurts.”
I traced the edge of the bruise with my thumb, careful and slow, and heard his breathing hitch.
“You're really not letting this go,” he said.
“No.”
“Even though it pisses you off.”
“Especially because it pisses me off.” I held his gaze. “You're right that we need those files. Right that you probably had to do something unconventional to get them. But you're wrong if you think I'm fine with you walking into situations where you might not walk out.”
“That's not your decision.”
“It is if we're partners.”
Something shifted in his expression, a quick recalculation behind those mismatched eyes. “You're serious. About working together.”
“Yeah.”
“Even knowing I'll do things you won't.”
“As long as I know beforehand. As long as we talk through options instead of you making calls alone.” I paused. “And aslong as you accept that I'm going to fight like hell to keep you from having to do those things in the first place.”
Cal's mouth curved slightly. “You're going to be disappointed a lot.”
“Probably.”
“And pissed off.”
