Chapter 12
TWELVE
LANCE
Linc scowls at the automatic espresso maker Eden recently ordered for our break room. It has a touchscreen operation system, and he looks like a clueless Neanderthal staring at the large silver box like he’s waiting for it to talk to him. “Do you know how the fuck to work this thing?” he asks.
I roll my eyes. “Keep glaring at it. That should help.”
He rubs against his eyelids. “You really feel like testing me this early in the morning?”
I reach over him and tap the large touchscreen display. It lights up immediately. “What do you want?”
Linc gives me a pointed glance. “Coffee, Lance. I want coffee.”
“This is an espresso machine.”
“Fine. Americano, then.” He grabs a black mug from the stockpile next to the machine and sets it under the nozzle.
I press the correct button, and opt for an extra shot for grumpy-ass over here. His stubble is a borderline beard. Now that I’m looking, he looks like he’s been through hell. “Where’ve you been?” I ask.
“Sicily. Quick trip. Just had to threaten a buffoon,” he says. “I spent more time on the plane than on the job. Haven’t slept.”
“Why didn’t you sleep on the plane?”
He shrugs. “I still can’t sleep while traveling.”
The machine is relatively quiet as it whirs to life. Linc’s drink begins to drip into his mug. I swear he’s drooling impatiently as he waits. We’re quiet for a moment, both of us staring at the drip, arms folded, and then he breaks the silence.
“Can you keep a secret?”
“As long as it won’t cost your life,” I reply.
He turns his head, giving me a puzzled look. “What?”
“Nothing,” I mumble. “Yeah, I can keep it. What’s up?”
Linc exhales. “I really hate this thing. I miss our old, shitty coffee pot. We don’t need stainless steel appliances in a break room. This place is starting to seem like glamping.”
I hook my forefinger over my top lip to hide my smirk. “Well, I’m surprised you know what glamping is. But why is that a secret? You’re a grumpy caveman; of course, you’re scared of pretty things.”
I brace myself because I know what’s coming next. Usually, it’s Linc’s fist colliding with my shoulder—and that shit hurts. He has a fist like a metal boxing glove. But he must be too tired to react to my teasing.
“Eden’s working so hard on this place. I don’t want to discourage her.”
“Yeah, the bathrooms have wax warmers and four-ply toilet paper. Very nice touch,” I reply, distractedly.
“She’s supposed to be working on personnel files, but Vesper’s not recruiting. The whole point of keeping this ridiculous bunker was to build a bigger team. But it’s been months, and nothing.”
“So? It’s not like Vesper can post a job for a killer on Indeed. These things take time.”
There’s a loud beep, indicating Linc’s coffee is done. He grabs the mug and takes a small, testing sip. He must decide the temperature is endurable because he slams back the entire thing. He nudges my shoulder. “Make another.”
I turn down my lips and nod. “Sure, Linc.” I hover my finger over the single shot button, then the double. “You want a full-on heart attack, or just a mini one?”
He glares at me as he sets his empty mug back under the nozzle. I obediently press the single shot, unwilling to further test his patience. “You know, I thought having a girlfriend would make you a little less of a dick on the day-to-day.”
He runs his fingers over his face. “It stresses me out more, actually. I worry sick about her nonstop. Vesper’s not recruiting because we’re not running a lot of missions. Either the world is suddenly at peace, and all the gangsters and terrorists have all magically reformed or…” He gestures to his tie.
We’re both here today in button-downs, ties, slacks, and dress loafers. Vesper hasn’t mandated that we get dressed up for work since we were working under the FBI. “You think this special guest we dressed up for today means we’re about to get absolved again.”
Linc nods. “All this time, Vesper still doesn’t trust her better judgment. She won’t even tell Callen what’s going on. I’m worried she’s running right back to the badge. In the past, I didn’t give a fuck. I’d go where Vesper went. That was my life purpose. But now—”
“Your life purpose is protecting Eden.”
Linc nods, eyes fixed on his mug. “No one gets to jeopardize that. Not even Vesper. She’s making secret decisions that affect more than just us. Our family is more than just killers, now.”
I honestly never took a moment to think about it. Linc is right. Vesper is lost. Putting Eden on harebrained missions like getting PALADIN merch and making our bunker into the fucking penthouse of the Ritz-Carlton. She’s been burying herself in paperwork and research. It’s clear Vesper is keeping herself busy. I never stopped to consider why. I’ve been too caught up on Cricket.
There’s a pang of discomfort thumping in my chest as my thoughts go to the woman who abandoned me last night. She walked away completely naked. Cricket took what she wanted and didn’t even stop to look me in the eye.
“Can you keep a secret?” I ask Linc this time.
“Yes.”
“Even from Eden?”
Linc grabs his mug when the machine beeps again. This time, he sips slowly. “Don’t tell me anything she’d need to know,” he murmurs into his cup.
I decide to risk the embarrassment. “Cricket mixed a superhero pill with half a bottle of vodka last night.”
Linc shuts his eyes, and his fists close so tightly over his mug, it looks like he could crumple it. “Where the fuck is she?”
“She’s fine. Some scumbag cornered her behind Martinis, thinking she was drunk and an easy target.”
“Wasn’t she?” Linc holds my stare with a menacing look. As much as I care about Cricket, so does he. She’s a baby sister to him, not a lover. But our protective instincts are similar.
“Cricket? An easy target? You must’ve fallen and bumped your head.”
Linc shrugs one shoulder. “Fair point. So, you convinced her to spare him?”
“Knocked the fucker out so he didn’t end up with his heart cut out,” I say.
“I’m surprised she left with you.” Linc rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. “Eden mentioned you two might be in an um…lover’s quarrel.” He hides his smirk in his cup.
“Entertained, are you?”
“I always told you not to shit where you eat, Lancelot. Fooling around with Cricket is not a good idea—”
“Linc.” There’s enough sternness in my tone to catch his attention.
He stares me right in the eye. “Oh.”
I nod, confirming the conclusion he drew that he has yet to say. “I love her,” I admit. “I asked her to marry me.”
“What’d she say?”
“Yes.”
Linc is quiet as he finishes his coffee. “Then I’m happy for you, man.” He sets his cup down on the counter and pats my shoulder twice. “I really mean that.”
I draw in a deep breath. “Thanks. Only problem is, after everything I told Vesper, I don’t know where we stand now. I doubt she’ll marry me if she can’t even stand to look at me. Last night she—”
Callen busts through the door, interrupting me. Immediately, his eyes fixate on the espresso machine. “What the actual fuck is that?”
“New coffee maker,” Linc says.
“Why does it look like a spaceship?” Callen asks, rubbing his scruff. He’s pretty unkempt as well. His hair is disheveled, and his dress shirt is wrinkly. Also, we were supposed to be here at six thirty. Callen, in all his golden-boy glory, is always five minutes early. Today, he’s nearly ten minutes late.
“What’s wrong with you?” Linc asks Callen, clearly just as surprised by Callen’s current state.
“Was up all night. Have you ever been tasked with rerouting an Air Force One? Do you know what kind of pressure that entails? I’ve been running interference all night. Even with Vesper’s connections, Secret Service wanted to do a fucking cavity search just for me asking.”
“Why the hell does Vesper have you messing with presidential flights?” Linc asks.
“Hell if I know. I take orders just like you, Linc,” Callen grumbles, pushing past us to get to the espresso machine. He instinctively knows how to work it.
“That was a swift fall from the top, hm?” Linc asks mockingly. “You’re a peasant like the rest of us now.” Linc loves to give Callen shit for the brief moment in time when Callen ran PALADIN for the FBI.
“Eh, you guys never listened to me anyway. Can’t beat ’em, join ’em.” He configures his drink on the touchscreen and sets a mug underneath the nozzle. Turning to face us, he crosses his arms to mirror our position. “So what are we talking about?”
“Apparently, we’re having girl talk,” Linc explains. He smirks in my direction. “Lance was just telling me how he struck out with Cricket last night.”
Callen laughs. “That was bound to happen.” He taps my shoulder with his fist. “And to clarify—I mean the striking-out part.”
“First of all,” I say, “fuck you both. Second of all, I didn’t strike out. And third, fuck you both again. I’m in pain here.”
“Like a-burning-sensation-when-you-pee kind of pain?” Callen asks.
“Jackass,” I murmur. “You guys are the shittiest friends.”
“Okay, okay—we’ll be serious. What happened?” Callen holds out his palms as an apology.
“She…” Now that the spotlight’s on, I actually don’t know how to explain this. “Well, to start, she was recovering from a bad trip after the superhero pill—”
Callen interrupts me with a groan. “I told you guys to quit taking that shit unnecessarily. It’s like LSD, meth, and speed mixed together, and ten times more intense. Emergencies only when you’re immobilized from the pain—”
“Already gave the lecture,” Linc says, holding up his hand. “What happened, Lance?”
“It was innocent, you know? I was taking care of her until she was back in her right mind. Then she basically ripped my dick out, had her way with me, and then ditched my ass. I don’t know how else to say it… She used me, then left me naked on the bed. I couldn’t do anything but watch her leave.”
Callen raises one brow. “You couldn’t do anything? Like she tied you up?”
“No.” I sigh. “You should’ve seen how she left. She couldn’t even look at me. It’s like she hates me. There was no way I could follow last night. But I’m not in the wrong here. Cricket was testing every limit. What would happen if Vesper gave the kill order for violating the rules? It’d divide PALADIN. I wouldn’t hunt Cricket down even if Vesper said I had to. Would you?” I ask Linc. He’s normally the reaper who puts down our rebellious dogs.
Linc looks away, refusing to answer. Exactly. Of course, he wouldn’t. Our obedience and allegiance to Vesper is what keeps PALADIN intact. I was protecting our family as much as I was protecting Cricket.
“You should’ve followed her,” Callen says. He ignores the loud beep, indicating his drink is done.
“And piss her off even more?” I scoff. “Not smart. Cricket’s mood swings tend to get violent.”
“Hear me out,” Callen continues. “I loved my ex-wife while we were together.”
Linc scoffs loudly. “The woman you have in your phone as ‘Succubus’?”
“I said when we were together , didn’t I?” Callen rebuttals. “Bottom line, I couldn’t figure out why we ended. Yeah, the military took me away a lot. I get she was lonely, but there are military families all over the world who stay together. After we signed the divorce papers, she said the thing that bothered her the most was that I never fought for her. When she was mad, I gave her space, thinking it was better to let her cool down.”
“She didn’t like that?”
Callen shrugs. “I guess it made me look passive, like I didn’t care if she was upset. I mean, I did. I was just trying not to make it worse and get my head bit off. Looking back, had I followed her out of more rooms, or risked calling after a fight, even if I knew she didn’t want to answer… I don’t know. Maybe I’d still be married today. She just wanted the effort, man.”
“Huh,” I muse. Interesting. Fight harder…
“I disagree,” Linc chimes in. “Maybe that’s the right move for a woman who isn’t as stabby, but Cricket’s going through her shit. You need to give her time and space to figure out whatever this is. Trust her to come through it on her own, or you’re going to push her away even more.”
Also, sound advice. “Could you fuckers do me a favor and get on the same page?”
Callen laughs. “I’m just saying—”
The door to the break room opens and we’re interrupted yet again. This time, it’s Cricket at the entryway. Damn. She still takes my breath away. She’s dressed up as well, wearing a sleek, sexy, black turtleneck dress paired with black stilettos. Her sleeveless dress hugs her body tightly and stops just above her knee. She has her thick, long, blond hair secured in a neat bun. Her attire makes her look intelligent, powerful, and somewhat lethal. It’s an apt look for her.
She makes eye contact with each of us, trying to read the room. “Anybody else know why Vesper told us to be here at six thirty a.m., yet she’s taking her sweet time?”
“Not a clue,” Callen says. I wish he’d wipe that deer-in-headlights look off his face. He’s giving us away.
“How are you feeling today? Can I get you a coffee?” I ask, taking a step forward to collect an empty mug.
Cricket wordlessly holds up the takeout cup in her hand. She wiggles it, proving it’s empty, before tossing it in the nearby trash.
“Right,” I say under my breath.
“What were you guys all talking about?” she asks.
“Fishing,” Linc says.
“Sports,” Callen adds at the same time.
I exhale, running my hand over my face. “Fishing as a sport, and the ethics of catch and release,” I quickly explain.
Cricket narrows her eyes. “Okay, well, I’ll see you guys in the meeting room then.” She turns back around, but with Callen’s advice knocking around in my head, I quickly bolt to the door. Sliding in front of her and blocking her escape, I give her a pointed stare. “We need to talk.”
“Move.” Her tone is stone cold. “ Please. ”
“No. Enough is enough. I’ve given you time, and now, we need to work this out, Cricket. End of story. We’re not leaving this room until you at least tell me how you’re feeling.” I grab her wrist tightly, hoping she can feel the desperation in my touch. If she wants me to grovel, I’ll grovel. If she wants me to beg, I will. Whatever I need to do to fix this.
She wraps her hand tightly around my wrist, and I misread her intentions. Taking it as some form of affection, I relax my own grip. As soon as I do, Cricket twists my arm and spins me around. With my elbow bent at an unnatural angle, I’m helpless as she shoves me hard against the closed door. The next second, there’s a sharp thud about an inch from where my face is smashed against the door. I glance right at the gray metal blade of the old military knife she always carries around. She taps the edge of the handle. Cricket drove it into the wood with such force, it doesn’t even wiggle.
“Next time you grab me, I promise you, my aim will improve.” Cricket releases me. “Now, get out of my way.”
As soon as I step aside, she slips through the door, slamming it behind her. I turn around to face the peanut gallery. Callen has his lips sucked in, still looking like a startled deer. Linc’s eyes are on the ground, and he’s shaking his head.
“Should we have intervened?” Callen asks, a bemused smile growing on his face. “You could’ve gotten out of that if she didn’t let go, right?”
Not without hurting her. So, no. “You guys are the worst.”
“See? This is what happens when you take Callen’s advice,” Linc murmurs. He crosses the room and rips Cricket’s knife out of the door with one strong pull. He folds it so the blade is secured against the handle. After swiveling it in his palm, he hands it to me. “I told you. Give her time.”