“Great. Yet another lecture,” I sigh, taking back the ID he’s handing to me.
“You know he means well, and if you don’t want any lectures, just stop acting like a teenager on steroids. It’s that easy.” He wiggles his eyebrows while I roll my eyes inwardly. There we go again.
“No one was in danger, Jenkins. I wouldn’t risk anyone else’s life.”
“But, you would risk your own.”
Not totally true.
But fighting what they think of me is inevitable at this point. Looking at the clock, now I know I’ll be at least ten minutes late. There is only one way for me to end this conversation if I don’t want to sit in my car on the side of the road and hear someone’s opinion in what they believe is reckless behavior.
I take a breath in.
“I’m working on it. Look, in fact, I’m going to be late for a psych eval. I really need to go. Can you issue the ticket faster?”
“Sorry, no can do. It will take the time it will take. But afterward, I want you to follow me.”
“Seriously? Why?” I whine, “Jenkins, I have to meet Mark at the office. Come on. I was just speeding a little.”
“Yes, Murdock, seriously and because I said so.” He says, looking me over. “Would you prefer to get in the back of my car? I can even use the sirens and show the town I got you back there.”
“No, I’m fine. At least tell me why I should follow you?”
“I need your help with something. Come on, Tessa.”
“Okay, but make it fast, I really need to get to Cole Security Forces,” I mumble already fidgeting with my phone to text Mark that I’ll be more than late.
When I arrive at the office, the psychologist Mark brought in for my evaluation is long gone. I’m almost one hour late because Jenkins did everything he could to keep me longer than necessary.
Mark is having a discussion with Quinn just outside his office, and I can swear it’s about me. Quinn is way too agitated for it to be about any other subject. I hear a few words. Something about promises and Mark needing to help a brother out.
Not willing to sit through yet another reprimand, I back away, my eyes on the floor, trying to get out of the office as quietly as possible without anyone seeing me.
I’ve been treated like a broken doll since I came back from my trip, and if I know it comes from a good place, I also know that I don’t need supervision. All I want is to live with the rush of adrenaline in my veins, and enjoy it while I can.
I’m almost out of sight when I collide into a wall of muscles. It would be the start of a great love story if I didn’t know the voice coming from my rear-ender.
“Where are you running away to, Tessa?”
Turning around to give my most renown glare to Jackson, I fall into the emerald eyes of the man standing next to him. I instantly feel connected to him. I can see the pain he has been through and the heartache that came with it.
But as soon as he blinks, it’s all gone.
“Hey there, pretty lady,” his voice is deep and smooth like hot chocolate on a cold winter’s night, “can we help you with something?” He smirks and raises an eyebrow, playing a role he knows by heart, but doesn’t match the vulnerability I just caught.
When you decide your life will be a series of fun and risks, you learn quickly to read any cues of danger.
And that guy comes with a warning label on his forehead.
Beware of the dick—he will break your heart.
He’s gorgeous with those troubled eyes, that black hair looking as if he just jumped out of bed in a perfectly stylish way, and that firm body which attracts my hand like a magnet when I haven’t touched a man in so long.
That guy is everything I shouldn’t be looking at.
So, as usual, when I’m at a loss for words, I bite.
“Get lost!” I tell him, trying to get away from the hold his gaze has on me. He steps back, lifts his hands up as if to apologize and whistles.
“Not the kind to force myself on ladies. You seemed in a hurry, and I thought we could help you. Sorry if I offended you.” I dive in his eyes again and try to fight the urge I have to strip my soul for him.
The pull is the same one I felt last night when I learned about this guy I need to drive around tomorrow. I wonder if… maybe… I’m about to ask who he is when Jackson interrupts, thankfully.
“Tessa is our latest addition.” He tells the guy not giving me the intel I need to know why I feel that way around Green-eyes. “She loves to jump off things and take risks. You two should get along just fine.” Green-eyes winces slightly. It disappears instantly when he realizes I’m watching him, and he finds his composure. All he does is give a nod, his eyes avoiding mine.
“Does Mark know you’re here?” Jackson asks me. It’s my turn to wince. Jackson is the one who understands me the most in the group. He’s lost people he loved as well, and he’s a little more empathetic than Mark or Quinn.
“I got pulled over by Jenkins, and then he needed my help with something stupid with the patrol cars, so I missed the psych eval. I told Mark as soon as I could, and I was going to get in and apologize, but…” I jerk my head toward Mark’s office.
“Daddy Quinn is in there and not happy about you missing it?” Jackson smirks. “Let's be honest, Murdock, Jenkins did you a favor. You would have never passed, and Quinn would have lost his shit knowing so. Mark and I got you.” He smiles, and all of a sudden, I wonder if Jenkins pulling me over wasn’t a divine intervention from the two asses.
“I’m sure I would have passed the eval with flying colors,” I mumble with pride. Green-eyes chuckles, forcing me to look at him again.
“Sorry,” he says, “bullshit in my throat.” Who is this guy? I’m not sure if he has a death wish or if he likes playing with matches, but as charming as he looks, he’s rubbing me the wrong way.
Something about him irritates me as much as it attracts me. I’m like a cat pet backwards. I like the attention but not that it goes counter-hair.
“Oliver is a lie detector,” Jackson explains. “No bullshit goes through him. He’s here to help us with a sensitive mission we have, and he’s also who you need to drive around.”
Oliver.
Foolishly, my heart misses a beat, and I smile at him.
He seems confused for a nano-second before kicking his self-control in.
I observe him a little longer and take note of a lot of little things. The scar at the corner of his eyes. The glasses he wears at his collar. The way he rubs his thumbs and his index finger together. Maybe I’m an expert at bullshitting myself because it seems Oliver is nervous. I think there is a lot he isn’t telling Jackson.
“Nice to meet you, Tessa,” he says without shaking my hand.
“Likewise,” I smile without feeling it in my heart, as usual. He nods again, as if to tell me he can understand my pain, and he sees through the mask. I ward off all the unexpressed emotions I’ve battled with since King died and focus on Jackson.
“You’re not going to make me go in there, are you?” I ask, pretty sure I already know the answer.
“You know it’s better to remove the bandage fast and let it breathe than cover the problem and make it ooze. Let’s go, Murdock. If you’re not afraid of racing cars, you can’t be afraid of Quinn.”