CHAPTER SIX
After five lengthy days of being crammed in a tiny pair of classrooms, our team morale wasn’t in the best of places.
Aleks claimed the low spirits stemmed from a lack of “special alone time” with me, but he’d clearly just been looking for an excuse to christen the women’s locker room showers after hours. We hadn’t been awake forty-five minutes this morning, and the giant Russian had already started a scuffle with Brock, needled Duane until he snapped at him, and took a gamble with his life when he drank Payton’s coffee.
The last one solidified it for me.
Aleks was itching for a fight.
“That’s it,” Payton barked above the bickering, slamming the carafe of French pressed coffee down on his bedside table. We’d accumulated more things the longer we stayed here since Delta so “charitably” allowed special requests to make our life easier. Zero surprise rippled through our team when our leader’s three allowances all centered on his near-religious caffeine intake. “Change of plans. We’re spending our morning in the gym.”
CJ shifted beside me on my cot, beating out the competition for the prized spot during our daily agenda and task assignment meeting. “But, Mr. E, we have a debriefing scheduled with Paride first thing today.”
Payton’s jaw clenched, because the hollows in his cheeks stood out for a heartbeat, and then he made a concerted effort to relax his facial muscles. “That’s a fair point, CJ. I’ll tell him plans have changed. We need this for our mental health, and if our new liaison has a problem with it, he can either meet us there or track down actual dorms.”
Jace gave a slow clap. “You go, Mr. E! Stick it to the man. Look, your forceful attitude is making Damsel blush.”
It hadn’t been, at least not completely, but calling me out like that pretty much guaranteed a chain reaction of everyone checking for themselves, which had my cheeks burning neon red. Jace smirked in the background, his job done.
Through my mounting embarrassment, I sent him a glare.
He winked.
Sometimes, it slipped my mind that he’d been the prankster of the previous Tate Team because Corbin, the Emerson Team’s joker, liked to be front and center with his tricks whereas Jace preferred a more subtle route to see what he could get away with before someone called him out.
He wasn’t the only one with patience though, and I’d learned that just ignoring the duo’s antics only caused them to escalate until they garnered a reaction.
I shifted my glare into something more pensive, broadcasting that he could expect retaliation. Finally, Jace’s visage displayed the first curls of unease.
He straightened. “Guys, you’re a bunch of tools. Don’t just stare at her like that. It’s rude.”
Even Payton blinked and cleared his throat, tearing his jade eyes from me.
My interest piqued.
Well, color me intrigued.
I filed away the juicy nugget of knowledge for later, because I could work with that angle. Hopefully, Payton wouldn’t be able to gatekeep our intimacy much longer.
If so… I had the beginnings of a Plan B.
Instead of retaliation, I should send Jace a thank-you card.
My smile turned downright devilish when I realized Jace would likely get more paranoid, thinking my gratitude had to be a precursor for an even bigger trick.
He’d be sweating it out, waiting for the anvil to drop.
Oh yeah.
Jace squirmed across the room, catching my attention. “Sorry,” he mouthed.
I grinned, purposely flashing my teeth and stretching the smile farther than normal as I waved away his apology and mimed back, “It’s okay.”
For some reason, my reassurance didn’t seem to mollify him.
Huh. Imagine that.
Bryce crossed his arms. “You want us to work out.”
“I do,” Payton confirmed.
“Why not?” Bryce drawled. “We’re already up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday. Let’s go ahead and throw in some physical labor for a little something extra.”
Duane clapped him on the shoulder, nearly dislodging the slightest person on our team apart from me. “That’s the spirit, buddy. Trust me, as a doctor, being a healthy weight doesn’t exempt you from improving your endurance.”
Bryce’s eyebrow piercing arched high on his forehead. With his aristocratic upbringing in Virginia’s socialite society, this was all the trust-fund baby would show to express his affront. “There’s nothing wrong with my endurance. Tell him, Callina.”
“Dude,” Jace cut in. “I repeat, don’t put her on the spot like that. We all know she can’t lie to save her life.”
I had to curl my lips in to hide my amusement, because Jace was definitely working double time to suck up after his lapse of judgment.
“She doesn’t need to lie,” Bryce retorted. “Right, Callina?”
“Gentlemen,” Payton interrupted, somehow sowing his disbelief into the way he addressed them, as if he considered “gentlemen” too generous of a descriptor. “Before you whip out a measuring stick, let’s relocate to the gym, post haste.”
When no one moved, watching to see if the two would listen, Payton barked out, “All of you!”
We scrambled up and through the door like a cadre of scolded toddlers.
Despite being a Saturday, as Bryce so cheerily pointed out, people milled about in the hallways on their way to classes, carrying travel mugs of coffee and big yawns. Our bed ruffled group still garnered several looks, which is why I’d taken to showering the night before so I could get ready within our “room.” Coincidentally, this altered routine was how Aleks caught me out and joined me yesterday after this level morphed into a ghost town.
We parted ways at the locker rooms.
Doing my best to avoid looking at the spot where Aleks had taken me against the wall, I changed into some workout clothes and joined the others.
If there had been any people working out in this smaller secondary gym, Aleks, Brock, or Duane must have already scared them off. They each wielded some potent looks, though Payton was no slouch either.
I picked out Bryce from the throng and wandered over. His cobalt blues, like a rich, dark velvet, locked onto me the instant I took a step in his direction and didn’t let up. It was nerve-racking.
He didn’t speak, instead choosing to study me.
Unable to stand the silence, I nudged his arm with my shoulder. “How about that drill sergeant leader of ours? Right?”
Bryce relented, pretending to be put out even though his lips twitched as he resumed stretching his arms up and behind his head. “Callina.”
“Don’t be so grumpy,” I teased. “This isn’t so bad. At least we’re all together.”
Bryce frowned, his eyebrow piercing reflecting the overbearing lights bright enough to erase an ant’s shadow. “You’ve been missing us spending time together?” he questioned slowly. “Even after five days being cooped up on top of each other?”
I shrugged, dropping into my own stretches since I wasn’t sure what sort of drills Payton would have us doing.
Bryce tapped my shoulder, and I popped back up, my face flushed from being folded in half. “Don’t do that, Callina.”
I gathered my hair into a ponytail. “Bryce, look, I get it. Several of you have warned me about it, but we’re the only ones here.”
He blinked. “Wait, what?”
It was my turn to be unsure. “You weren’t talking about me touching my toes?”
He huffed. “No, Callina, although, now I’m interested in hearing more about the situations that spurred so many of our team members needing to sit you down for a discussion about that distracting habit.”
I pulled my foot up behind me, stretching my thigh muscles until I nearly touched my calf to the back of my skull. “What were you talking about then?”
“I was talking about brushing aside your opinion because you’re scared we’ll think you’re silly or whatever other conclusions your mind jumps to.” He shook his head, pulling his gaze back up from where it’d dropped during my stretch. “By any chance, were you wearing leggings like these when those conversations happened? Because I can see—”
My foot dropped to the lacquered wood floor as I turned to him. “But what if my opinions are silly?”
He paused. “Impossible. But,” he continued, “since I know you won’t believe that, how about this? If someone genuinely laughs at your opinion, especially if you explain your sincerity, then drop those assholes. Got it?”
“I don’t like friction.”
“Tell them Bryce said so. But seriously, surround yourself with people who care about your ideas and feelings, no matter if they are silly or not.”
That made some sense. I’d let it swirl around in my head later tonight.
“With that said,” Bryce said, “I’ll ask again. Have you been missing our time together? We assumed you’d prefer one-on-one time. Let’s be honest, our group is kind of a lot to handle.”
An intense feeling lit within my chest. “Yeah, I have. I appreciate any special time with each of you, but you don’t have to be so strict about it. If you’ll recall, my first date was with all of you. I fell in love with the group just as much as the individuals.”
“Whoa, Callina, no need to be so bossy.”
My heart skipped a beat in fear until I glanced at him and saw he’d been joking. “You’re hilarious. I think I’ll go over there by—”
“I don’t think so.” He snagged the back of my tank top before I needed to pick someone’s name, not calling my bluff. Pitting the guys against each other was something I tried to avoid.
Nothing further was said until our “liaison interim,” as a handful of our team members had taken to calling him, banged through the doors.
“Alright, let’s get this show on the road!” He glanced around with the folder he’d brought halfway opened. “Wait. We’re missing someone. Which one of you is—” He cut himself off, tilting his head to the side.
Movement to the right drew my attention, and a silent form tiptoed forward.
Paride sighed. “You’re going to have to try harder than that, Myers,” Paride said in a singsong voice without turning, returning the full weight of his attention back to the thin file.
“What gave me away?” Corbin protested. “Do you have super senses or something?”
“Or something,” Paride replied ambiguously. “Now that hazing attempt number one has crashed and burned. Let’s get down to business. Bokaryov Tarasovich. Where are we?”
CJ and I exchanged glances as the team focused on us. “Do you want to go, or should I?”
Paride didn’t give us a choice. He crossed his arms, held his elbows, and widened his stance. “Callie, you go. You have the most history with him, and while Emerson gave me a recap, I prefer to hear recounts straight from the source.”
Bryce inched closer in a show of silent support that did wonders for bolstering my confidence. “Sure, I mean, where do you want me to start?”
Paride seemed to consider his answer for a moment before shrugging. “From the beginning sounds about right.”
Payton made a noise of discontent.
Paride turned to him. “Problem, Emerson?”
“Yes, I gave you a thorough briefing. Rehashing everything is unnecessary.”
“Maybe, but like I said, I prefer primary accounts for information gathering.”
Payton’s jaw clenched, but it was probably my imagination that I heard his teeth grinding with ten feet between us. “I won’t allow it.”
The interim liaison released his grip on his folded arms, leaning forward just enough to be noticeable. “You won’t allow it? Why? She’s done her therapy and is still checking in with Dr. Harper.” He opened the folder in his hands. “Though that’s been lowered to an ‘as needed’ notation rather than daily visits. In our field, that’s considered a clean bill of health.”
“There are extenuating circumstances you don’t understand. It wasn’t just an incident on the job. She endured a traumatic upbringing for years. There’s no telling what—”
“Okay, sure. She’ll always tote around the scars of her past, but Dr. Harper’s clearance suggests she’s capable of managing the trauma herself. In other words, a green light on all accounts that matter. You can’t protect her forever. It’s not healthy or fair to her. Either you treat her like an agent or quit pretending she’s on your team.”
An icy chill descended in the silence.
“Payton,” I interrupted, sensing that this might be the hill he would die on—figuratively, of course, because there was no mistaking the protective, aggressive stances everyone had taken. Considering Aleks could probably take Paride solo, the rest seemed excessive. “It’s fine. I’ll talk to him. You never know. Repeating it could steal away some of its power.”
Payton’s jade orbs softened, his entire demeanor shifting in some inexplicable way. “If Mr. Coppola prods or asks a single question you’re not comfortable with, I’ll step in.”
Payton ominously didn’t specify the consequences. He’d spoken loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, so the unsaid warning wasn’t for me.
I glanced at Paride, and he brought his hands up in a show of innocence. “What? I’ll behave.”
With one last glance at the guys, I recounted the tale of Tarasovich’s history and how our worlds entangled, even if I’d been unwittingly lucky enough to walk parallel paths after that initial interaction so many years ago.
By the time I finished, and Paride wrapped up his questions, I hid my shaking hands behind my back as CJ and Payton outlined the plan of attack for the week. Aleks had a couple of contacts in Russia that he thought he’d try shaking down to see what fell loose, so Brock, Duane, and he would be dealing with that, while CJ and I worked the digital angles, doling out various tasks to our minions—the remainder of the team.
“Solid. I like it. As you were. I’ll catch you on Tuesday,” he said approvingly and took his leave.
The second the door shut behind him, I turned, jumping when I spun into Corbin’s full-bodied hug. “Biscuits and gravy, it was hard to watch you suffer through that without wrapping you up in a blanket and cuddling you on a couch.”
Tension eased out, leaving as silently as it’d invaded, and my hands stopped trembling. I returned his bone-crushing hug. “Thank you, Cor. That couldn’t have been easy.”
“You bet your fire trucking butt it wasn’t easy.”
I smiled at him as he eased off, and it did wonders to reassure him. Aleks shifted in my peripherals. Experience had taught me that any time someone initiated a hug, Aleks would use it as an excuse to copy them. The others would follow like dropping dominoes, so, before my thought fled amid the incoming hug train, I blurted, “I want to reach out to Vasily Petrov.”
Jace cocked his head, his golden curls bouncing on his forehead. His gaze narrowed before he glanced at the ceiling, snapping his fingers. “Petrov. Petrov. Why does that sound familiar? Oh, right! Has it slipped your mind that he once kidnapped you and packaged you up in a neat bow before handing you off to Ivanov?”
I shrugged. “In all fairness, a lot of people have kidnapped me. If I recall, you once called me Kidnap Callie until you shortened it to Damsel.”
His brows rose. “Might have jumped the gun on that. Should have just nicknamed you Sassy. You hearing all this sass, Mr. E?”
Payton didn’t answer Jace’s question, instead asking me, “Why do you want to reach out to Petrov?”
I shrugged. “He helped us before—”
“Yeah, because his daughter was in danger,” CJ cut in, but he bit his lip and shrank back. “Sorry. I’m worried.”
Duane nodded. “Techy twin has a point, babygirl. Sure, you might have parted on amicable terms, but Ivanov killed Petrov’s only child to cause you pain. What if he blames you for her death? He’s had almost a full year to climb into the vacuum of power Ivanov left behind after his death. We don’t know how corrupt he might be, and what he did to rise to power.”
I cleared my throat and averted my gaze, feigning interest in the ellipticals across the room.
Brock swore in Serbian. He hadn’t taught me the swear words, so the fact that my discerning ears couldn’t pick out a single word apart from “the” and “of a,” was a big clue. “Du?o, what did you do?”
“I, uh, might have, sort of been in touch with Petrov since.”
Oh, that news did not go over well.
Only Payton’s curt warning of, “Quiet. Not here,” cut off the symphony of voices clamoring to be heard.