Unmade (Hillcroft Group #2)

Chapter 5 #2

So far, so good.

The trick to remain in denial was to not watch him in the shower. When we’d headed into the operators’ shower room, I’d only turned on the lights in the laundry section, so the visibility in the showers wasn’t great. Then I’d dumped my clothes into my laundry bag and superglued my stare to the tiles all the way over to the shower I’d picked. He was right next to me, without walls in the way, but I had self-discipline and dimmed lighting. I’d showered with other men more times than I had showered in private, including with recruits. It wasn’t a fucking thing. Modesty didn’t exist here, just like in the service. So, I wasn’t going to treat Leighton any different. Well, with the exception that I refused to glance his way even for a second.

I didn’t need a glimpse of his naked ass.

Stepping away from the water cascading down, I poured body wash into my hand from the dispenser on the wall, and I began lathering up.

“The showers here are way better than the others,” Leighton said.

They wouldn’t be for much longer. The water damage in the recruits’ dorms on the other side of the building was almost fixed, and the shower room there had been renovated. They were just redoing the adjacent laundry room now.

“It might be the other way around soon.” Eyes closed, I finished washing my face before I took care of my junk.

He hummed but said nothing.

At least for a moment. “So, um…am I allowed to ask personal questions?”

Allowed, yes. Was it smart? Not one bit.

“As a grown man, I have the ability to tell people to mind their business,” I drawled. “You can ask me anything.”

“Smartass.”

I smiled and brought my hands back to my stomach and chest. Tension was finally leaving me, and I could relax more. I’d always liked to take my time in the shower.

“How do you date as an operator?” he wondered. Not the most uncommon question, for sure. “From what I understand, Operator Rose and Operator Payne are married—and they used to work as a team when they were in the field. So, like…I can see that working. But I’ve heard about divorces here almost as much as I heard about them in the Army. And in the Army, they were practically a guarantee. I think I know of one marriage that didn’t fall apart while I was in.”

Yeah, they were definitely common here too. “The short answer? It’s rough. You’re gone a lot—and even when you’re not on assignment, you’re working uncomfortable hours and spending more time with coworkers here than with your family.”

“Right. And even if you’re married to another Hillcroft employee, it’s not always easier,” he went on. He said it like half a question, half an observation.

“You thinkin’ about Operator Riggs?” I stepped under the water again and rested my hands on the wall. I just let the hot water do its thing.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Tanner did some digging. He’s definitely hooked on the guy.”

Still? That was…interesting.

“I thought you and Tanner had your thing,” I said, keeping my tone casual.

Leighton chuckled. “Eh. We have the same type.”

As in, someone like Riggs? ’Cause I kinda fit the bill. But it annoyed me that Leighton didn’t confirm or deny having messed around with Tanner.

I straightened and tilted my face up, and I started rinsing the remnants of the suds from my body.

“So how do you date?” he asked. His voice had changed. He sounded…shakier, almost.

Was he watching me?

I swallowed and slid my hands over my cock, down to my balls, and I lingered. Like an idiot. He wasn’t watching. Was he? No.

“I don’t,” I replied. “I crash my relationships into the ground. I try to force something that ain’t there, and then I become more and more distant until they end things.”

“That sounds healthy and pleasant,” he noted.

I chuckled and hung my head, just letting the hot water relax me further. Hands along my sides now. I didn’t need to be accused of giving a recruit a show.

“If there’s one thing my string of girlfriends has taught me, it’s that I’m not healthy or pleasant to be around,” I said. “I’m a living, breathing red flag.”

It was nothing but the truth. Not that I abused them or anything. No ex-girlfriend of mine would rank me the highest of douchebags. But I was undoubtedly on the Top 10 list.

“How are you a red flag?” he asked.

I inhaled deeply and rubbed a sore spot on my shoulder. “I stop giving a fuck. I don’t care enough to remember dates and anniversaries. I don’t care enough to do the right thing and end the relationship.”

“So, you’re a dick.”

I automatically tilted my head and looked over at him, and I kinda froze. I clenched my jaw as I was assaulted by the sight of him. Jesus fucking Christ. The water rushed down his body, causing every defined muscle to gleam in the low light from the laundry section across the room. Thank fuck he had his eyes closed, because I wasn’t sure I could look away yet.

“Yeah,” I responded absently. “I’m definitely not the good guy.”

Goddammit, he was stunning.

Part of me must’ve had the teenage version of him stuck in my brain. Six years ago, he’d been a skinny little thing, and despite having watched him work out for the last two months, it wasn’t until now that I saw all of him—and how he’d developed. He was built like a runner, with sleek muscles. Still had some softness left, and I liked that. His ass—I couldn’t even describe how perfect it was. Bitable, fuckable, lickable. Two handfuls. With ass dimples to go with it.

I swallowed and wrenched my stare away. Right on time too, because I saw him turning toward me. Funnily enough, just his upper body. He kept his lower part hidden.

“Are you only at Hillcroft for the money?” he asked.

I flicked him a brief glance and knitted my brows. “No…?”

“Then why are you here?”

Where was he going with this?

I shrugged. “It gives me purpose.”

“A plumber has a purpose too.”

I instinctively rolled my eyes. “Don’t even try, pup.” I knew what he was doing. He wanted to paint me as a good guy for what I did for a living. “I’m not gonna say it doesn’t feel good to break up a trafficking ring or bring home a little girl who’s been abducted to get married to someone forty years older than her—it absolutely does. But I don’t choose my assignments. Despite Hillcroft’s built-in moral compass, we protect shitbags from time to time too.”

My current assignment was the best example. Quinlan and his crew would never accept a client whom they deemed the bad guy in whatever situation or dispute. In this case, the man with oil money and a dead son. He wanted to get the killer. No problem. But in his spare time, that man wasn’t someone you wanted to bring home to meet the family. And I explained it to Leighton. I told him bluntly that we dealt with fuckers from that part of the world all the time, where women couldn’t take freedom or basic rights for granted, where slavery was widely accepted, and where speaking your mind could get you beheaded.

“But he’s paying us millions of dollars to get his son’s killer,” I finished.

Leighton turned off the water and chewed on his lip. “We protect the bad guys in our country sometimes too. Like, in the service.”

We sure did.

He glanced at me. “So, how are you any different from a soldier?”

I shut off the water too. “Not all soldiers are the same. You know that.” Hell, if you hadn’t stumbled upon cheaters, liars, and criminals in the Army, you hadn’t served.

For some reason, he didn’t feel the need to shield himself now. He walked over to where his towel was, and I did my best not to get stuck on seeing his dick. And yeah, I was screwed. I could no longer deny that I wanted to do all kinds of fucked-up things with that guy.

Go me. I wanted a recruit. Motherfucker.

“Either way, I don’t think you’re a bad guy,” he said, wrapping the towel around his hips.

I suppressed a sigh and aimed for my towel too. Did Leighton sneak a peek? Yes, he did. He tried to be subtle about it.

I smiled and knew exactly how to shoot myself in the foot. Rather than wrapping the towel around myself, I started by dragging it over my head, my shoulders, down my body…and here came the shot that would end it all, which was good for his sake.

“Nassim wasn’t extradited,” I said. “I threw him into an incinerator. He was alive when that happened. Sedated but alive.”

Leighton blinked and stared at me.

I stared right back and could practically hear Shira, Coach, and Quinlan cursing me out for going over the line. I didn’t care. My gut instinct told me I could be honest with Leighton. It wasn’t as if I couldn’t deny it if the kid chose to use it against me. Granted, he’d take a step back from me now, which was half the point, but I didn’t believe he’d freak out. The other half of the point—let’s call it preparation for the day he had clearance to know such things. More than that, he might have to do something like that himself.

I wrapped the towel low around my hips and?—

“I hope that’s true,” he said. Wait, what? “The extradition didn’t sit right with me. It seems stupid to leave loose ends.”

Was he just saying that to…what, come off as unbothered or stronger? As someone who was training him for a career at Hillcroft, I actually wanted to know. For several reasons. Doc would want to dig deeper too.

“Even though he didn’t do anything?” I questioned.

Leighton grabbed his laundry under his arm, his toiletry kit too, and shrugged. “He came to kill you. Whether he failed or not is irrelevant. As long as he’s alive, he’s a threat.” He nodded at the door. “Can we go eat now? I’m starving.”

I inclined my head on autopilot and followed him out of the shower room. Our units were a short walk past the rec room and down a hall, and my mind spun the whole way. His reasoning lined up with mine, and there was nothing wrong with it per se. But just like Doc had raised some concerns about how I compartmentalized things, he was gonna wanna do the same with Leighton. Death and pulling the trigger had never bothered me much. Granted, I had seen combat before leaving the service to join Hillcroft, so I’d been more prepared. I’d already developed coping mechanisms. Leighton hadn’t killed anyone yet, so whatever he said now was, at best, speculation about how he’d handle tough calls in the future.

We went our separate ways to get dressed, but as the seconds ticked by, I thought about sitting in the cafeteria now and…no. No. We started discussing the psychology of killing and torturing much later on in the training, when most of the recruits had already jumped ship. But I was ready to begin earlier with Leighton.

After pulling on a pair of sweats and a tee, I went over to the door only Alex had used so far, and I knocked twice.

I’d stared at the door plenty lately, though. Every time I woke up from a dream about Leighton, I cursed the fact that we had adjacent rooms as much as I wanted to rip the door open for easy access.

I heard him curse on the other side, just a second or two before he opened it. He jumped to steady himself, and he was clutching his foot.

“Are you okay?” I smirked.

He gritted his teeth. “Every fucking day, I ram my big toe into the sofa.”

I grinned. “You should stop doing that.”

He huffed and lowered his foot again, then walked over to pick up a pair of socks on his bed.

His room was tidy. I liked that. I kinda envied his having a couch, though. I’d had to make room for a second bed for Alex. Luckily for her, she was a good roommate.

“We’ll head down to grab food, and then we’ll come back here,” I said. “I wanna pick your brain about what we discussed earlier.”

He threw me a wary glance as he put on his sneakers. “All right, but… Um. Is there any way you don’t have to tell Doc about it? I’m just waiting for him to wanna screen me for psychopathy or something.”

Ah. So he was aware his reactions didn’t follow the norm.

Well, fuck that.

“First of all, ain’t no such screening,” I replied, leaning against the doorway. “He might want to assess you—I’m not gonna lie. But the odds of that destroying your future here are nonexistent. He’s assessed me three times, and I’m still here. I don’t tick enough of the wrong boxes.”

He knitted his brows. “I don’t get it. He assessed you for what?”

“He has a…a model of some sort,” I replied. “It includes about eight different tests, three interviews, and a search into your family history. He’ll basically go by extensive lists of behaviors and traits for various diagnoses—like ASPD, autism, bipolar, ADHD, you name it. Psychopathy and sociopathy are in there as well. But the thing is, Leighton, Doc knows what he’s doing, and he’s well aware that some of these traits can actually benefit us in this particular field.”

I could tell I had his attention. Poor kid had been afraid, hadn’t he?

“Let’s talk on the way downstairs.” I left the door between our rooms open and went out through the exit in his room instead. “The chief difference between our recruitment process and the one you’ll find in the military is that we don’t show you the door based on a letter combination.”

Leighton closed the door and sidled up next to me.

“I swear, half our Intel team is on the autism spectrum.” That was only partly a joke. “You wanna know how many traits I share with a so-called psychopath? This is in Doc’s files and everything.”

“Um, yeah.” He glanced up at me. “Let me guess, impairment in remorse and empathy.”

I tipped my head, weighing my answer. “I struggle to care about people,” I confirmed. “That doesn’t mean I can’t. The group is just small.” The library was empty, so I didn’t feel the need to push the pause button as we walked through. “Ironically, I can pick up on other people’s distress very easily. It just doesn’t sway me, normally.” Leighton happened to be a weird exception. From the moment I’d met him six years ago, I’d wanted to ease his troubles. “But in short, according to Doc—and I admit, he’s right—I lack remorse and empathy for the majority of the population, and this includes animals. I could legit kill someone for mistreating their dog, but that doesn’t mean the dog is important to me in any way. In commercials about street dogs, I’m more concerned about the diseases they’re spreading.” I paused as we reached the elevators, and we were lucky. One was waiting for us. “In the field, I’m calculating, aggressive, and volatile, traits that bleed into my normal life in milder doses.”

Leighton pushed the button, and we headed down. “Are there any boxes you don’t tick?”

I scratched my bicep and squinted, trying to remember the list of traits Doc had shown me. “I’m not manipulative by nature, or egocentric, and I can’t say I’m shallow or arrogant either.”

He nodded pensively and pinched his lips together for a beat. “But it’s still a lot. And Doc has no problems with it? You’re a senior operator with plenty of responsibility—you’re in charge of the recruits.”

I nodded. “Because I’m more than those traits, Leighton. I’m a good leader. I want our recruits to succeed and go far. I like helping others when it’s a topic that matters to me—or a person I feel close to for one reason or another. I’m protective and observant, disciplined and assertive, and I’m intuitive.” I thought of one more. “I can also see a hundred different perspectives at once, which is both a blessing and a curse, but it makes me somewhat patient, understanding, and objective.”

He quirked a small smirk as we stepped out of the elevator. “What about humble?”

“I’m not that,” I chuckled. Fuck being humble. “That’s not to say I don’t know my shittier qualities. Case in point, I’m an awful boyfriend. I can be too blunt and come off as cold. When things are personal, I struggle more to make rational decisions, and that’s fundamental as an operator. It’s why I’ve been forced to take the back seat on my own assignment.”

He nodded to himself, and we walked into the fairly empty cafeteria.

I exchanged a hello with Riggs, who was having dinner with one of the junior operators he’d once mentored.

“What’s good?” I asked.

“The pork chops with oven-roasted potatoes and mushrooms,” he said. “Don’t let Jonie skimp on the sauce.”

That sounded fantastic. “She wouldn’t dare with me. We had that conversation once when she asked if I really needed dessert.”

Riggs shook his head, as offended as I had been.

But to appease the woman, I added a plate of steamed broccoli to my tray. Leighton went with the other option, some pasta dish that looked good too.

We headed back upstairs once we had our trays, and Leighton asked if I actually preordered my dinner every night. Which was the general rule for operators, even though the kitchen staff never let the food run out.

“Not now,” I responded. “Since I’m practically a resident now, I’m on the same list as you.”

“Makes sense. They’re nicer than any DFAC staff I’ve ever encountered.”

I chuckled.

He side-eyed me as we walked back through the library. “So are you. I’m struggling to picture you the way you described yourself before. Lacking empathy and whatnot. I still see the guy who gave a stranger his phone number, just in case things got rough.”

Understandable, considering he’d only met that side of me.

“You’ll start seeing those traits further into your education when my expectations get higher,” I told him. “Once we begin counterinsurgency drills, field survival exercises, and resistance to interrogation training, Coach and I won’t be as lenient or as fun to be around. But even then, Leighton—the number I gave you is always good. You can always talk to us.”

He balanced his tray in one hand while he inserted the code to his room. “I’m not gonna lie. Picturing you as a pissed-off Drill is doing it for me.”

“Ha!” I grinned and shook my head. “Good to know.” Every now and then, he said something that was a little bolder, and I soaked it up. He revealed things about himself in those glimpses into his mind. In this instance, there was the chance Leighton Watts liked it rough.

As his superior, I was never going to make a move on him, and he’d already admitted to being the settler who didn’t ask for more. In short, this wasn’t happening. But now that the levees had broken and I could no longer deny I was ridiculously drawn to him, I fully intended to fantasize freely and frequently, and rough did it for me too.

Once in his room, I went over to his couch and sat down, and I moved the two books from the other half, a silent indication for him not to sit on his bed.

“Okay, pick my brain,” he said. “Let me know if I’m a psycho.”

I chuckled and cut into my pork chop. “I’ll leave that to Doc. I’m just curious, especially when it comes to how you think you’ll react around death and violence. When you shot Nassim, for instance. You didn’t have much of a reaction afterward.”

Leighton pulled up his legs on the couch and held his plate close. “I already walked Doc through every second of that night. Like, I felt the adrenaline starting to rush when I understood it was an intruder. And after that, I just… I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. I was hyperfocused, and the whole thing didn’t faze me much. Even after.” He shrugged and shoveled food into his mouth. “Doc’s main concern seems to be making sure those normal reactions don’t build up over a long time and fuck me up later in life.”

I nodded with a dip of my chin and chewed. Riggs was right; this was good.

“Yeah, that’s one of the biggest concerns,” I replied. “Just don’t let the norm scare you. Including my time in the Army, I’ve been in this game for almost twenty-five years, and I’ve yet to see a backlash. Not everyone gets affected by what we do, and that’s fine.”

He nodded slowly, mulling things over as he ate.

I let the silence take over and focused on eating, and it was time to set new boundaries for myself. Leighton hadn’t reacted well to my pulling back a while ago, and I didn’t wanna do that to him again. Nor did I wanna limit my interactions with him as long as shit stayed platonic and appropriate.

I was confident I could keep my personal attachment separate from our dynamic as mentor and recruit. So, bring it on. I wanted more of this. Just him and me talking, hanging out after hours… Coach and Doc would obviously not approve, but fuck it. If I couldn’t break the rules entirely, I was at least gonna allow myself to finger-fuck the gray area.

“What if I get a taste for it?”

I glanced back at him and found him staring at his food. But he wasn’t talking about his pasta, was he? It was the killing. The violence.

“Is that something you’re worried about?” I asked.

He seemed unsure. He picked at his food and shrugged with one shoulder. “I felt good after I shot Nassim. The adrenaline rush of it, I mean. Something happened to me.”

What was the saying, it was always the quiet ones?

Because I’ll be fucking damned.

How similar were we?

“Let me guess…” I pushed the tray away from me and pulled up a leg on the couch so I could face him better. “When the shots went off, you could suddenly breathe easier, and it was an addictive shock to the system.”

He snapped his gaze to mine, and he looked like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

I was spot-on. So he hadn’t told Doc everything .

“I can’t explain it, but I think I’ve had something building up inside me for as long as I can remember,” he said quietly. He struggled to make eye contact. “Before Mom died. I don’t know—it just feels…dark. Like there’s something wrong with me.”

I had a feeling I knew what he was talking about. I’d just gone through it earlier than he had. By the time I left the Army, I’d come to terms with that inner darkness. But unlike Leighton, I’d had my brother. Vince had been much the same.

“Different doesn’t mean wrong, pup,” I murmured. “We can’t all be textbook cases.”

He hummed. “Yeah, maybe.” He cleared his throat. “I’d like to think my principles are strong. It’s not like I fantasize about killing and making enemies pay—it’s that adrenaline rush. For years, I’ve craved something to make me feel alive, and after what happened with Nassim…”

I got it. He feared he’d crave more each time.

“In that case, I’m not worried,” I said. “Our field is full of adrenaline rushes. It’s not all about killing. Trust me, you’ll get that rush when you’re closing in on a target too. When you’re in the middle of an extraction, when you’re running through the rainforest, when you finally get your hands on the intel you’ve been chasing for two months, and when you get briefed for your next assignments.”

A pinch of hope sparked in his eyes. “You think so?”

“I know so.” I planted my arm along the top of the back cushion. “That said, you can’t keep chasing rushes to feel alive.”

He frowned. “What choice do I have? It’s not like I wanna feel like a zombie.”

When was he gonna get it?

I leaned forward a bit. “Stop. Fucking. Settling.” I made him flinch with that one. “I understand you don’t wanna get rejected, but if you don’t start going after things you want, you won’t have any reason to feel alive anyway.”

He clenched his jaw and looked away from me.

“Didn’t you do a history report on the British SAS the other week?” I pressed. “What’s their motto?”

He threw me a scowl.

“Say it,” I demanded.

He huffed and folded his arms over his chest. “‘Who dares wins,’” he muttered.

“That’s right. So suck it the fuck up and reach out to the Quinns,” I told him. “Do something that scares you. Take a risk. Otherwise…I can tell you what your life’s gonna look like. You’ll go all in at Hillcroft. You’ll become a good operator here. Assignment after assignment, you’ll chase a hit of what life could be like. You’ll have friends here—good friends—but you’ll never have anyone to come home to. You won’t have any family aside from your aunt. You’ll always be missing something.”

At least I had tried the relationship schtick. It just wasn’t for me. I wasn’t a good partner. But I had family and, recent bitch fights with my sister aside, we were close. I had Alex too. I’d spend the rest of my life trying not to fuck her up.

I should probably learn all my nephews’ names, though. Or rather, know which one was which, ’cause I knew the names. If I hollered, one of them came running.

“Can I start small and build up to it?” he asked, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I haven’t felt close enough to someone to get a simple hug in over six years. The possibility of being embraced—or rejected—by an entire family will literally send me into full-blown panic.”

Six years without a fucking hug? Jesus Christ, he couldn’t say that shit to me. That was when the old Leighton, the younger Leighton, came forward in my mind. The lost teenager who’d told me his mom was dead and that he’d enlisted. The one who thanked me for even talking to him.

It was a kick in the gut, that’s what it was.

I remembered one time when Danny and I had gotten to talking over a few beers, how he and Emerson had met. Danny had been lost and angry too, and Em had force-hugged him into submission. I’d laughed when Danny had said it, and he’d chuckled his way through the story, but it must’ve made a huge impact.

How many lines would I cross if I hugged Leighton? Would he find me ridiculous for offering?

Did I give a shit?

Fuck it.

I got off the couch. “C’mere. We can start with a baby step right now.” I walked past him and stopped in the middle of the floor. “Pretend I’m someone important, and we’ll hug it out properly.”

He snorted. “This isn’t a joke to me, sir.”

“I’m not kidding.” I put my hands low on my hips and waited for him. “If you really don’t want to, I won’t force you—but don’t turn me down because you think I’m taking it lightly. Affection is important, even to two psychos like you and me.”

He grinned quickly, just for a fraction of a second, before he shook his head. “Have you ever been turned down?”

Oh, the flattery. “Sure. You wanna pretend I’m a date or something?”

That made him scrunch his nose. “I’ve been on dates. I never hugged any of them.”

Uh, all right. “I’m a dying friend, then.”

“Why are you dying?”

“Because you probably just fist-bump non-dying friends,” I said.

He snickered and finally dragged himself off the couch. “You’re insane.”

“That’s not new. Get over here.” I faked a couple coughs. “I’m fading quick.”

He smiled ruefully, with just a bit of wariness lingering in his eyes. “This isn’t necessary. And I actually lied. Alex has hugged me a few times.”

“I know that girl’s hugs. Mine are better.” Once I had him within reach, I grabbed his arm and pulled him closer. “We’re gonna turn this into an exercise. You have until midnight tonight to initiate two hugs, not counting this one. I’m clearly the instigator here.” I gathered his arms around my midsection before I wrapped my own around him. “Stop me if it makes you uncomfortable, all right?”

He nodded once but said nothing, except— “No, like this,” he mumbled and slipped his hands up my shoulders instead, and he locked them around my neck.

Now we’re talking. “There we go.” I tightened my hold on him and brushed my fingers closer to the sides of his back. He felt a little too fucking good in my arms, the way I completely enveloped him.

I closed my eyes as I realized how much this was for me too. It was entirely different from having my sister or mother hug me. Kristen too. This felt closer and much more intimate.

I exhaled and sensed him relaxing too.

I let one hand roam his back, and I couldn’t get over how good he felt against me. The thought of spending a whole night with him like this made me wanna push the envelope further, but I wasn’t going to. By the end of the day, I’d have two more hugs with him, and then I’d come up with a more appropriate challenge. Maybe I could suggest he started thinking about which Quinn to reach out to. He could write an email and let it sit there. He didn’t have to send it right away.

I reckoned the best thing I could do for him was push him toward his family.

A shiver ran down my spine when I felt his fingers brush over the back of my neck, and based on how he stiffened right after, I automatically held him a little tighter. I couldn’t help it. He’d probably done it by accident, but I didn’t want him to think I— Aw, goddammit. My phone buzzed.

“You’re vibrating.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, reluctantly releasing him.

He was quick to ease off and look away, and I pulled out my phone. Motherfucking phone.

Message from Shira.

I have an update. Come see me when you can. I’m in my office.

Fuck. It better be good.

“I, uh…” I cleared my throat. “I gotta head upstairs.” I should check in on Alex too.

“Okay. Um. I think I’ll go to the rooftop for some fresh air,” Leighton said. “The windowless thing messes me up sometimes.”

I nodded, feeling the same way. If the units across the hall hadn’t been taken, I would’ve moved us by now.