Chapter Two
T wo days later at the crack of dawn, Justice sat in one of the two chairs in front of Savage’s desk in the Erebus headquarters—Fisher sat in the other.
The office was located in Ventura County on the top floor of a state-of-the-art warehouse that had been designed to fit their needs.
“You two good?” Savage leveled that steel gray gaze on Fisher.
Savage Markel’s voice came in a low, deep sound that made people want to pay attention just in case. It was one of those voices that screamed authority and kind of suited Savage for his new role of commanding the Erebus Assassins.
Justice stretched his arms over his head and linked his fingers against the back of his head before he slanted a glance at Fisher and wondered what the man was thinking.
“I don’t know. Are we?” Fisher said and shot him a chin tilt—a silent fuck you was in there somewhere, Justice knew it and he smirked.
Fisher glared.
Justice let his smirk flare into a grin.
“I’m good,” he said slowly, turning to face their boss.
“Then it’s settled.” Savage gave a nod of agreement and leaned back against the black leather desk chair looking pleased.
“Wait a minute, I have conditions.” Fisher turned in his chair to glare at the side of his head and Justice gave the man his full attention.
“Conditions?”
“Yes. You’re too damned bossy.” Fisher’s hands waved when he spoke before clenching into fists to rest on the top of his thighs. It was a telling move that told him Fisher was restless and angry.
He didn’t think his desire to be in the lead was a problem.
Was that what Fisher was angry about?
After getting along for almost two weeks, Fisher had spent the past two days ignoring him. The assassin had alternated between giving him the cold shoulder or shooting him a death glare from those gorgeous eyes.
Not that he minded having those eyes on him, but he’d much rather prefer them to be filled with lust and minus the angry wariness.
It had taken him the past fourteen days to get Fisher to kind of sort of trust him. And Justice was sure that trust came and went often. Sometimes, he thought he saw something else in the man’s eyes, but it was too brief to figure out.
He’d been the one to start all this when he’d insisted that Fisher partner with him. The reason was that he wasn’t going to miss the chance for them to get to know each other.
But he wasn’t willing to share that with Fisher just yet. It was early days and hopefully, they’d have a long time to flesh out this feeling he had when he looked at the slender dark-haired beauty. He couldn’t do that if Fisher wasn’t with him.
“Justice?” Savage said, dragging his eyes from Fisher.
“I may be a tad controlling,” he admitted, dropping his linked hands from behind his head and straightening in the leather chair.
“Try pushy and dictatorial.”
“And your point?” Justice smirked, knowing it drove Fisher crazy.
Sure enough, it set Fisher off and the slender man stood in a smooth, controlled move.
“That’s it. I’m done.”
“Wait.” Justice was up and he gripped Fisher’s wrist. The man twisted his arm, but he hung on. Fisher glanced at the door and every inch of the man was tense as if wanting to flee.
He couldn’t have that.
“Say it,” Fisher’s voice was tight.
Justice realized he was on borrowed time.
Even gripping Fisher, he knew the assassin could have laid him out by now, of that he had no doubts.
“Tell me your conditions.” Justice eased his grip and smoothed his thumb at the pulse point on Fisher’s wrist and the man abruptly pulled free.
“We spend time making plans and then you do whatever the fuck you want. I need you to see me. I’m your partner, not your trainee or apprentice.”
“I agree,” he said, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck. “Now, can we go eat?”
Fisher blinked at him before shooting a look at Savage as if to silently say… See what the fuck I mean?
“Give it two more weeks,” Savage suggested and sent Justice a stern look. “Partner means working together.”
“Got it,” he answered, but the problem had been solved. Now, he was more interested in where they would go and eat.
He and Fisher had two more weeks together and that was a win in his book. It had taken him a long time to get here with Fisher and he’d be damned if he’d let the man get away.
Yeah so, he was a control freak, but there were a lot worse things to be in life.
If Fisher decided he didn’t want to partner with him, then he would cross that bridge when he came to it.
He still needed to figure out where Fisher kept disappearing to at night. He’d only recently discovered that Fisher left his shitty apartment most evenings. The only reason he knew this was that he’d done a drive-by one night.
When Fisher had slipped from his apartment dressed in black, Justice had tried to follow.
It had been impossible. When Fisher wanted to disappear, there was no stopping the man.
Justice opened the office door and waved a hand at Fisher to go first. Rather than glare at him, Fisher walked out and kept walking. Justice hurried to catch up, but only managed it when Fisher shoved the outside door open and stepped out into the parking lot.
Justice glanced around for his dog. Axel, his three-year-old Belgian Malinois, had been resting beneath a shade tree but upon spotting him, the dog leaped to his feet.
Axel was rocket-fast. Racing like a flying missile—a black and brown bullet streaking over the asphalt toward him.
With outstretched arms, he caught the dog’s leap and rubbed him before letting him go. Axel landed on his feet and sniffed at Fisher’s pant leg as the man headed toward a nondescript blue four-door. Out of the two weeks they’d been working together, Fisher had not warmed up to his dog.
It was early days, so he had hope. Axel wasn’t difficult per se, but he wasn’t overly friendly either.
Justice walked close enough to bump the man’s shoulder and Fisher gave him a slight shove. Justice grinned.
He was basically ignored when Fisher got into the passenger seat and closed the door, but Justice knew it was a self-protection method Fisher often used.
Justice loaded up Axel in the back seat and slid behind the wheel before speaking.
“Did you get the next assignment?”
He expected a flippant reply, but instead, Fisher shrugged.
That would not do. He wanted them communicating, not at a silent standoff that pushed them further apart.
“Fisher…” he murmured and reached across the distance to lightly grip the back of the man’s nape beneath that thick hair Fisher had tossed up into a half-bun.
Squinting at him with distrust, Fisher tensed beneath his touch.
“Do you really want to call us quits?” he asked, purposely suggesting more than just work partners.
The man’s pupils expanded before he grew wary and pulled away from him like a wild thing. The move sent his pulse humming and he wanted to give chase. It was instinctual.
“Not if you keep your promise.” Fisher turned his face away and gazed out the window.
Axel took that moment to place his paws on the center console and nuzzle at his arm. Justice gave the dog a scratch and started the car.
“I’ll keep my promise.” Pulling out of the parking lot, he headed toward the nearest intersection.
If it took everything he had, he would try like hell to work at not leading. It was going to be hard because he lived by the mantra of lead or get out of the fucking way. Did he trust Fisher to lead? Maybe it was he who had the trust issues and not the other way around.
That was eye-opening, because out of the two of them, he’d been sure that Fisher won in the distrust category.
“Go South, we’re heading to Palm Desert,” Fisher said, cutting into his thoughts.
That drive was a good four hours away or more depending on traffic. They’d need to get a motel for the night. He smiled at the thought and knew he’d never make it there without eating something.
“Food first.”
“Food first,” Fisher agreed and Justice heard the banked laughter.
“You want bacon and eggs?”
“How about burgers.”
“For breakfast?”
“Yup,” Fisher said.
That sounded good to him and he knew Fisher could get a burger without the bun. He’d never seen Fisher consume anything processed other than maybe lunch meat and cheese once in a great while. Even when they did order pizza, Fisher picked off the toppings, but that was a rarity. He’d asked once and received the brief response that Fisher was a recovering carb addict who’d gone carnivore. Hell, the guy didn’t even eat vegetables.
He glanced over and found Fisher watching him suspiciously.
“What?”
“You didn’t argue.”
He smiled and shot the slender man a wink. “I promised.”
“So you did.” Fisher rubbed his palms down his jean-clad thighs.
“Tell me about our next case,” he said, drawing Fisher’s mind from its discord.
“Craig Bridger. He’s wanted on three counts each of kidnapping, rape, and murder of three high school girls.”
“And he happens to be in our neck of the woods,” Justice said, turning right a few blocks down. He drove into the burger place parking lot and stopped in the back of the drive-thru lane with the long ass line of cars.
“Lucky us,” Fisher huffed and Justice’s heartbeat picked up when Fisher tossed him a rare smile.
Fuck. He was a goner.