Chapter 2 #2
Every time we exit that van and Cici gives me the green light in my eardrum, my mind becomes a force of its own and my body follows.
It’s not until I see my members standing unharmed that the fog fades.
That’s not something for Jasper or anyone else to know.
And the fact that Greer is picking up on it bothers me even more.
I earned lead a year ago after Tess’s retirement.
Nyx and I carefully handpicked this unit and I don’t plan on giving it up anytime soon.
I make a mental note to talk to Jasper later about keeping his comments to himself.
Greer on the other hand—well I don’t know.
Our bodies should be physically healthy along with our minds.
Unfortunately, mine has been failing me lately, allowing the rage to consume me.
I can work it out on my own, though. Wouldn’t be the first time.
But still, Greer is awful quick to point my weaknesses out.
I emerge and step out of the tub, reaching for my phone to check the time.
Crap. It’s past two. I grab another towel, scrunching my hair as I scramble out.
Tossing my hair into a bun, I slip on my black sweats and my old white Sugarland tee before walking back into our room.
Greer is already gone. “She better lay low,” I mutter to no one.
I swipe a water from my bag and grab my keys, frantically sprinting for the door.
I swing it open, slamming straight into a solid wall of muscle.
Nyx. Charred cedar fills my nostrils as his hand is still raised mid knock.
My water rolls at his feet across the carpeted floor.
My partner looks as if he belongs to the timber and twilight itself. Always carrying that annoying unhurried confidence.
A shadow of a smile tugs at his lips. “We were beginning to wonder what happened to you—fall asleep in the tub, Flossie?” I bend down, quickly gathering the bottle from the floor, and seal the door shut behind me, double checking the handle.
“You could say that.” I widely step around him, ignoring his wolfish grin.
Although Nyx and I are the lead of the Greyline Unit, we have Ana, who oversees all of us. As the hot-headed bunch we are, I’m glad she’s the one who holds the bucket of ice water. But most of all, she keeps our trusted CEO of the agency, Scott, and his lovely wife Taila, off our backs.
Nyx knocks gently on the suite door, shoving his large hands into his pockets as the click of heels approach.
Ana could be on the cover of vogue. Her mocha skin tone is luminous even under these crappy hall lights, her long black box braids gracefully sweep over her navy-blue blazer.
Her delicate jewelry hangs the same, a simple gold cross hangs slightly above her bust.
Butterfly studs glint on the lobes of her ears as she turns my way. “Florence. Nyx. Pleasure to see you two—please come in.”
I wait for the door to close behind me before tightly embracing her. “You are always a breath of fresh air to see, Ana.”
She releases me, her face full of relief. “Sounds like your team could use a bit of fresh air after the, uh, toxins, Bear unleashed upon you earlier. I had your Uber review deleted, all is taken care of.”
Three years ago, Ana Winslow was simply assigned to oversee my training. Somewhere along the way, the sessions grew longer. What should have been an hour would turn into two. Then she’d stop by outside office hours, staying sometimes almost until dawn.
Off the record, we’ve somehow bonded about everything from mission reports to grief, faith, and all the ugly things I keep tucked away where no one can find them.
For reasons I’ll never fully understand, something clicked between us whenever the conversation turned toward God.
More specifically, my struggle to trust Him.
Every prayer I send seems to go unanswered.
Ana never tries to force anything out of me though.
She never grows frustrated when I cut a conversation short, slamming the door to my mind shut when her foot gets too close to the frame.
I’m comfortable in my darkness. Always have been.
But Ana became an unwavering light that refused to allow me to sit alone in it.
We take a seat at the center of the suite, Nyx subtly looking over the luxurious room.
I count the windows, measuring the height to the ground in my mind.
The room is set to Ana’s taste; tulips of every color line each surface of the room.
Even if our location was the Sahara Desert, Ana would be placed on sand made of gold.
As she certainly deserves. I cross my legs and straighten.
I clearly didn’t get the dress-code memo.
Nyx’s hair falls dark and dense, the black strands curling slightly at the edges.
It’s cut short, but never neat. His beard is heavy along his jaw, a rough shadow that softens nothing, his mustache sitting full and deliberate.
He’s dressed in a loose plain black T-shirt that slightly hugs his chest, paired with heather gray Carhartt pants and boots.
Apparently, I’m identifying as a wet mop tonight. Ana clears her throat, looking from me to Nyx. I blink, realizing I’ve been studying him a little too long. I lean forward to examine the two files she has displayed across the glass table.
“You two have been doing exceptionally well,” she begins. “I would like to announce that you beat a record tonight, the fastest time for warehouse sweeps has been fourteen minutes… your team accomplished the ambush in twelve.”
Beaming with pride I turn to Nyx only to find him unfazed.
“Florence, it’s to my understanding you were two minutes ahead of the entire team.”
I shake my head, quickly reassuring her. “It was a miscommunication on my part Ana, won’t happen again.”
Pursing her lips, she leans back in her chair.
“As lead it is expected for you to lead your team members. You are not a lone wolf, Florence. These animals we are rescuing thrive in packs, just as you should. Maybe you need a quick review on the species you’re assigned to.
That could help better adapt to your new given role. ”
I nod once.
“Nonetheless, I will overlook this tonight,” she says evenly.
Swallowing my embarrassment along with any pride I just had, I force my face to match my partner’s. “Yes Ana, thank you.”