Aiden shoved the movie reel further into the depth of his mind. Forgoing marking his target, he instead grabbed a plastic bucket to get a head start on cleaning the range of brass. The sooner everything was clean of empty shells, the sooner he could shoot again. With luck, he could get his head back on straight before Liam returned from his rescue mission. The man was too observant by nature, and it was only his recent preoccupation with Jaz that had kept Aiden safe from landing squarely in Liam’s sights.
“By my count, son, you’ve qualified at least eight times this morning alone.” One of the firearms safety officers—a retired gunnery sergeant named Jim—leaned his hip against the table where Aiden was now reloading. “Something on your mind?”
“No, sir.” Aiden didn’t glance up from his task. “Just keeping my skills sharp. Bad guys don’t care about qualification scores.”
“That they don’t,” Jim agreed, taking off his red safety officer cap and wiping sweat off the bald spot beneath. That was a bad sign. It meant Jim was in a chatting mood. And once Jim got started, it could be difficult to escape. “You know, if you enjoy the range so much, maybe you should become an instructor. We always need good people out here.”
“Thank you, sir, but I already have a job.” Aiden glanced around and hid a wince. The way the range was clearing out, it would soon be only Jim and him left. That meant more conversation. More questions. “I’m afraid you’re right, though. I need to get back to doing Liam’s job for the wee bastard.”
“Running Trident Rescue and Security from the boss’s penthouse suite? A hardship, I’m sure.” Jim laughed.
Aiden gave the man a noncommittal shrug. He couldn’t exactly begrudge Liam the rescue trip, but Aiden was quickly discovering that, despite a knack for organization, he didn’t enjoy playing boss and would happily trade it all in for the basic grunt work. He needed to be out doing things. Protecting people. Rendering explosives safe. Hell, he didn’t even mind surveillance. But putting out administrative fires and smiling at idiots instead of shooting them? Liam needed to take that part back. Now.
But Liam was still in California sorting out his soul mate attempted murder, which, while a respectable reason to be out of communication, still made Aiden feel no better three hours later as he sat in Liam’s office and got yelled at by Denton EMS.
“Yes, I understand that even though Trident Rescue provides services pro bono, Denton EMS still needs copies of everyone’s certifications on file,” Aiden said into the phone for the fifth time in as many minutes. He got up to pace across the room. “And I’m telling you, it will be handled as soon as Liam Rowen gets back. In the meantime, you can call us for help or not call us for help. But those are your two bloody choices.”
He put the phone away from his ear as the dispatcher from the office of Denton Valley’s central emergency services went off into another rant, then just hung up on her.
Dropping into the leather chair, Aiden massaged his temples, checked his email, and swore aloud.
It was Liam, checking in to say that Jaz was safe, but they would be taking an extra couple of days in California to deal with the fallout of Roman’s attacks.
This was bad news all around. Aiden glared at the office door. It was closed. Aiden hated that, but there were too many phone calls to deal with, and the noise scraped the nerves of Liam’s assistant, who sat outside the office.
Well, hearing noises in the hallway and being unable to see what was happening scraped Aiden’s nerves. Who said that was any less important?
As if having heard his displeasure, the door started to open. Which it really shouldn’t have. Aiden reached for the sidearm that he was fortunately not wearing and thus managed not to point a gun at the woman who let herself inside.
“Can I help you?” he asked, getting ahold of himself and watching, with some misplaced satisfaction, as Liam’s sister jumped in surprise.
The woman had obviously been expecting to find the office empty as much as he’d expected a lack of unannounced visitors.
Lisa, after the briefest second of disorientation, straightened herself primly. “Yes. Liam wants me to take care of family dinner today. He said I was to get some money out of petty cash?”
Aiden weighed her with his gaze, feeling her do the same to him. She had Liam’s intelligent brown eyes and stubborn set of jaw, but whereas Liam carried himself with spread-shouldered openness, his sister’s back was already curling again, and she emanated an almost palpable aura of perpetual discontent.
“Liam is in California,” said Aiden. “I doubt he’ll be home in time for family dinner.”
“I never said he was invited.”
“How did ye get past Mrs. Norris?”
“The secretary? She moved desks. Something about your foul language. Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of security professional?” Lisa’s tone added air quotes to the title.
“Aye.”
Lisa snorted. “Figures.”
Aiden knew he should leave it at that, but he spoke anyway. “How so?”
“I saw you jump at the door like some scared little girl. It doesn’t seem very compatible with keeping anyone safe, does it?”
That wasn’t exactly an accurate assessment of the situation, but Aiden was smart enough not to follow Lisa down the rabbit hole this time around. Plus she wasn’t entirely wrong. This recently surfaced dislike of closed doors wasn’t making his life any easier, and the sooner he got over it, the better. He had to get over it before the twins shoved themselves into his business.
“The money?” Lisa prompted.
Opening the second drawer of Liam’s desk, Aiden took out a metal box. “How much did you need?”
“One fifty.”
“For a two-person dinner?”
“It’s our mom’s birthday.”
Aiden stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Maybe it was. More likely not. Either way, not his circus, not his monkeys. Liam could afford it and, given what he was doing now, he’d probably appreciate not having his sister on his arse.
Aiden counted out the cash and handed it to Lisa.
She snatched it from his grip. “Don’t you go looking at me all judgmental like. You’re as much damaged goods as I am. You know what the only difference is between us?”
“There’s only one?”
“Only one that matters.” Lisa’s chin jutted toward Aiden’s chest. “My brilliant brother hasn’t caught on to you yet.”
A shiver ran down Aiden’s spine. “You and I are nothing alike. I assure you.”
“So that thing where you nearly took my head off just for opening the door? The sleepless circles under your eyes? The way you keep checking the room over and over with your gaze?” She snorted. “You’re right. Nothing like me. At least I know that I’m a fucking mess.”
Aiden shut the petty cash box, the sound echoing through the office. “Have a good day, Lisa.”
Instead of leaving, Lisa propped her hip against the side of the desk. Apparently, the need to dig into other people’s business was another trait connecting the siblings. “So what’s your story?”
“No story.”
“So why are you moping around with pieces of your soul sloughing off, like flesh from an undead zombie?”