Chapter Five
Month One
“I don’t understand. I’ve brought three good
cases, and Damon’s turned down every one of them.” Vivian paced the floor of
her office.
“He’s got different standards for pro bono cases,” Ariel
gently pointed out. “If it involves someone’s life, he usually takes it. You’re
bringing cold cases.”
“Yes. I’m looking for justice.” Robert had told her looking
through older cases could teach her a lot. What all those cases had really
taught her was that Damon was extremely picky.
“Justice does not pay bills.”
She forgot Sosa was sitting on her sofa, waiting for her
session.
“Says the chick who is a walking, talking pro bono case,”
Lucy said from the door. She shot Vivian a sympathetic look. “Sorry. That one
was rough. I thought he was going to go for it.”
And made so much worse with Malcolm’s grim eyes staring at
her. He’d been around three weeks, and she only saw him in briefings. Not even
every day since he’d traveled with Oliver a couple of times and missed daily
briefings. But he hadn’t missed his sessions. She was dying to know what the
man was saying, but her friend was all “we have to protect confidentiality.”
Boo.
“I am not Bono. I am fan, though,” Sosa said.
Lucy rolled her eyes. “You are truly excellent with that
misunderstanding English crap. I know you think it’s cute, but it’s not. And
you are pro bono because you’re not paying anything.”
Sosa looked young without makeup on and her hair up in a
high ponytail. She appeared to have come from a workout since she was wearing
sweatpants and a too big for her T-shirt. It was sometimes hard to believe she
was once an assassin. Not by her own choice. “I pay in blood and sweat and many
tears.”
“Tears?” Lucy sounded unimpressed.
Sosa nods. “I cry much when Damon tell me I must be speaking
to syndicate man. He is smelly and sweaty, and I cry because remind me of home.
A terrible place where many things smell.”
“He was rather…fragrant,” Ariel agreed. “Penny wasn’t in
that morning, and we needed some information from him. Sosa was effective. And
Lucy, we try not to make Sosa feel unwanted. We’re happy to have her here.”
Sosa gave Ariel a wan smile. “You are because you are nice
lady. Lucy is not because she is jealous of me.”
Lucy’s jaw dropped. “I’m not jealous. Why would I be
jealous?”
Vivian perked up. This was interesting. Nothing ever threw
Lucy Brooke Flanders off her game with the exception of Kala Taggart, who
was—in her own words—a nemesis spat from the bowels of hell.
Sosa was working hard to be the Kala Taggart of The Garden.
“Lucy did not seem at all happy when you found out I have a long text thread
with Travis Taggart. She found out we became friends and she doesn’t like it. I
wonder why.”
“Travis is busy and doesn’t need more chaos. He has a kid,
you know.” Lucy turned the slightest shade of pink and then walked out.
It was odd, but everyone seemed on edge. Like they were all
waiting for something to happen. Even Sosa seemed to be more restless than
usual. Sosa was starting to take Vivian’s failures worse than she did.
Sosa sighed and sat back. “She is interested in the him but
does not want to show it. Does she have to do sessions? Because she need it.
She is crazy in the head.”
“We don’t like to use words like crazy,” Ariel pointed out
gently.
“Well, it doesn’t change the fact that Lucy is,” Sosa
replied. “Though I don’t think she is possessed like the Bratz doll say. I miss
her. The mean one. Not the other one. The mean one is very amusing. She sprays
holy water on Lucy and tried to bring exorcist in. Can she come back?”
Sosa called the Taggart twins Bratz dolls. Which was only
fitting given how often they wore midriff-baring shirts paired with over the
knee boots and tiny skirts. The hot pink hair color sealed the deal. They were
spies who probably never had to plan out a whole case and get turned down in
front of their whole team. It was humiliating since everyone there knew how
hard she was working. Well, maybe not Malcolm, who avoided her at all costs.
“I’ll leave you two to it,” Ariel said with a shake of her
head and a sigh. She sent Vivian a look that told her she was rather glad Sosa
had been left to the younger therapist.
Sosa sank down into the seat in front of Vivian.
She glanced at the thick folders on Vivian’s desk.
“You need to find right case,” Sosa said. “Don’t be giving
up like sad little bitch. I could help you.”
That was the last thing she needed. “I think we should talk.
Have you had the dreams again?”
“Who sells me out?” Sosa asked with no real fire in her
voice. “Was it new guy? Because he wakes up screaming, too, sometimes. You
would think he would have some sympathy.”
Mal woke up screaming? “It wasn’t him. Come on, Sosa. Tell
me what’s happening.”
Sosa sat back and started talking.
* * * *
“She needs to find a case important enough that my
father doesn’t feel bad about sending her into the field.” Oliver ducked a
punch.
He was much better than when they’d started. Or maybe Mal
had lost his skill when he lost his leg. He had to be more careful. Lucky for
him Oliver tended to project his punches. He eased back and avoided the hit.
“Vivian shouldn’t be in the field. She’s a therapist. What’s she going to do?
Talk the bad guys into turning themselves in?”
Oliver threw another punch which Mal avoided and then hit
him with a quick uppercut. To his credit, Oliver simply grinned. “She’s quite
smart, you know.”
“I didn’t say she wasn’t smart.” Mal didn’t like to talk
about Vivian. Probably since he thought about Vivian all the time. It didn’t
matter that the decision had been made. His dick didn’t care that she thought
he was a walking red flag and was probably right to do so. “She’s obviously
quite bright. Isn’t she working on her PhD?”
Oliver stepped back and grabbed his water bottle. “She’s
deciding on a program. I think it’s about more than getting her doctorate. I
think it’s her excuse to stay here. Not that I have a problem with that. She’s
a walking work of art. My eyes are happy to see her every day.”
Mal’s fists clenched, but he hoped his expression remained
neutral. Internally, there was nothing neutral about him. It was torture to be
around her and not be able to touch her. The thought of her with Oliver made
him want to put his fist through the younger man’s face.
I know you think you have anger issues, and some
therapists would absolutely call it that, but I think your real problem comes
from fear.
He did not like the new therapist. At least if he’d stayed
with Vivian, he could have looked at her and made up a bunch of shite to
placate the boss. He relaxed his hands and grabbed a towel, running it over his
head. “Why would she need an excuse to stay?”
“Well, beyond the student visa, there’s the problem of her
family. I don’t think they like her being so far from home. I know she’s an
adult, but she’s close to her parents and brothers. If Sophy hadn’t decided to
spread her wings and fly here, I think they would have talked her out of it.
They would be perfectly content if she worked at the Dallas office. Why do you
avoid her?”
Oliver slipped that question in, and Mal had to hide his
initial reaction to it. Which was shame. Embarrassment. Anger at himself for
not hiding it better. “We don’t cross paths often.”
Oliver put his water bottle down. “You don’t because when
you see her coming, you turn and run the other way. And when you are stuck in a
room with her, you pretend to not watch her, but the minute you think no one is
looking, you stare at her like you’re going to eat her up. I get it. She’s a
gorgeous woman. I’ve actually thought a lot about the two of you. She thinks
you’re attractive. Why don’t you let me set up a session at Dominion with her?”
“No.” The word came out far harsher than he’d intended. He
softened his tone immediately. “I only mean I don’t think it’s a good idea to
play together when we have to work together. It’s not professional.”
Oliver chuckled. “Well, if my father had followed that
advice, I wouldn’t be here. Ah, our little wolverine graces us with her
presence, and it looks like she just got out of therapy.”
Mal turned and saw the petite young woman named Sosa enter
with an angry expression on her face.
She quickly moved to the punching bag and started blasting
it. Not well. She was all rage, and there was nothing trained about the way she
went at it. Over and over she struck the bag, kicking it, too. After a moment
of pure fury, she stepped back and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. She looked
around and nodded. “That is better.”
“Vivian rough on you today?” Oliver asked.
“Vivian asks me to talk about things I would rather not talk
about, but the problem is this talking thing works. I hate that it works,” Sosa
admitted. “I also don’t like the leaking. I leak now. It is terrible.”
“I haven’t started leaking, but I agree with you about the
rest,” Mal replied.
“You should let me train you. Your punches aren’t
controlled. You could get hurt,” Oliver offered.
She looked at him then turned Mal’s way. “Did he train you?”
“I had some training before I met Mal, but he’s been great
at taking it to another level,” his friend admitted. “We spar quite a bit to
keep from getting rusty.”
She seemed to think things over. “Why would I want you to
train me when I could have him?”
“Who said you could have him?” Oliver asked.
That sounded wrong. “Why would you want me to train you?
Oliver’s quite good.”
Sosa looked at the place where his leg should be. The place
that now held a prosthetic. “But Oliver didn’t have to relearn how to do this
after he loses a limb. You’re tough, Mal. You do not allow scars and pain to
stop you.”
The words made his heart squeeze. He tried to pretend like
it hadn’t happened. He never let anyone see him in shorts, and when he wore the
C-leg, he made sure no one was around. And yet this young woman still saw him.
That felt good.
Then she chuckled and shrugged. “I mean this only in
physical way. In other ways you are sad boy, but in this I would trust you.”