Page 12
“You didn’t want a career in the Corps?” Tick leaned back in his chair. Everly’s gaze flicked over him, then to Ransome.
“I wanted a way to pay for college.” He straightened the line of his pants over his knee.
Tick studied him. The kid was a chameleon. Adaptable. Controlled. Smart.
Please don’t let him be another Aviles.
He started to ask about their goals before a smile tugged at one corner of his lips. The size and scope of a big city field office, the work involved, had seemed overwhelming when he and Beech arrived in Atlanta, fresh out of Quantico.
Future plans could wait a week or so while they got acclimated. Maybe a month.
He looked at Ransome, then shifted his gaze to Everly. She smiled, her expression watchful. Tick nodded, dropping his gaze to his notebook. He needed to make sure . . .
Holy hell.
The idea had been right there and now was gone, no trace of words in his brain.
He blinked.
Drew a question mark in the margin.
He clenched the pen hard, and fire raced up his forearm, from his long-healed hand to his elbow, the way the pain had arced up from his fist when he’d landed the punch on a trooper’s jaw, trying to fight free of the hands on him, fighting to get to Daddy, the heat and the roar of flames washing over him, the screams ringing in his head—
Shit.
Shaking his head, he dropped the pen and pressed his fingertips into the desk, keeping his hand steady.
“You’ll be working with Beech.” His voice emerged rough, ragged around the edges, but Ransome’s expression didn’t change when he looked at the younger man. He shifted his gaze to Evers . . . Everson? . . . and found her eyeing him, intense speculation sharpening her face. He ignored the irritation prickling over him. “And you’ll be with Merchant.”
“Sounds great.” She leaned forward. “She seems sharp.”
“She is.”
“Hey, did I hear my name?” Beech strolled in and propped on the windowsill, wrapping both hands around the edge, either side of his hips.
Tick released a slow, steady breath. Hard to be stressed around Beech. “We were talking about mentor assignments.”
Beech grinned at Ransome. “We’ll be a great team.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Everson will—”
“Everly.” A slight smile tipped up the corners of her lips. She fiddled with her top button. “Or Rachel if that’s easier.”
Because he wouldn’t get Rachel and Ransome mixed up. And because he was getting on a first name basis with either rookie.
He didn’t even call Beech by his first name.
Hell, half the time, he called his wife by her surname.
“I’ll get it.” He scrawled the name three times down the margin. Enough repetition and it would stick.
“You will.” Her smile widened. Frowning, Ransome slanted a sidelong look at her, a nonverbal Are you serious?.
Tick turned to Beech. “Want to add anything?”
“Nope.” Beech steepled his fingers. “I’m good.”
