Hell & High Water (THIRDS 1)

I’m serious. The guy just never quit.

Would I Lie to You?

“Jesus Christ.” I hate you so much.

:D

Sloane stared at the little happy face before tossing his phone on his desk. That’s it. There was no way he could win against someone who was clearly unstable. Great. Just great. The scariest part? He might actually like the guy.

With another groan, he hung his head. “I’m so screwed.”

Chapter 7

DEX WAS falling asleep when he heard his name, scaring the hell out of him. He would have toppled back out of his chair if he hadn’t thrown his arms out and clung to the edge of his desk for dear life. He frantically looked around the room.

“What? What happened? Who died?”

“No one died,” Sloane said with a laugh. His partner leaned back in his chair and shook his head in amusement. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I wanted to tell you to go home.”

Dex squinted at his watch. “It’s not quitting time yet.”

“Rookie, quitting time doesn’t exist here. It’s okay, you’ve earned it. It’s been one hell of a week. Recon is searching for Lloyd Everton’s whereabouts, but the guy’s covered his tracks pretty good. We’re still waiting on the lab to get back to us, but they’re having trouble finding anything that would give us a lead. I’ll finish up the reports. You go home, get some sleep. If we get anything, I’ll call you.”

Dex eyed him warily. Was this a trick? Sloane had yet to make his move after Dex had coerced his innocent brother into hacking Sloane’s desk, disabling all the audio tools except for the speakers once Sloane hit play on Dex’s little love note. The next day, Dex had walked into the Defense Department to a standing ovation, much to Sloane’s annoyance. Dex was officially one of them. His sense of victory however, had been short-lived when he sat down at his desk and was promptly informed by his partner of his imminent demise. Either Sloane had forgotten all about it, or he was biding his time. Dex didn’t like it one bit.

“You’re volunteering to do reports? Are you going to write something really offensive and then sign my name? Is that what’s going to happen? Or draw penises all over the page?” That’s what he would do.

Sloane gave a very attractive snort. “Right. Because I’m going to risk disciplinary measures for a prank. No ulterior motives, Dex. I hate reports, but I can deal for one night. Go on, get lost.”

Dex didn’t have to wait around to be told again. He jumped to his feet and stretched. “Okay. Thanks, man.” With a yawn, he headed for the male locker room, greeting his fellow Defense agents as he walked by.

Man, he was dead tired. Every day this week they’d been rushed off their feet, driving from one end of the city to the other, catching their meals in the BearCat and napping in shifts. Recon had put their informants to work, but for every helpful lead, there were dozens of false alarms. The media was tearing them apart, showing up at several locations, provoking the already riled public. Every time a reporter recognized Dex, he or she brought up Walsh’s trial. It was exhausting.

In between the callouts, Dex still had training, including sparring sessions with all his teammates except for Ash, thankfully. Sloane seemed reluctant to send them onto the mat together. Dex couldn’t say he was disappointed. Then there were hours of lifting weights, cardio, running, swimming, boxing, and yoga, followed by hours of filing reports. He was surprised they didn’t make him fill out a report every time he had to take a dump. If his team got one more call from a nutjob claiming he was the HumaniTherians killer, Dex was going to…. He didn’t even know what he’d do other than wish a thousand fiery deaths upon him. His brain was too tired to function. All he wanted was to get home and crash.

The showers and locker room were empty with everyone still busy working out in the field or their offices. Sloane was right about one thing, it had certainly

been one hell of a first week. It had started out rough, but when he thought about the last few days, he found himself smiling. He liked his new team. They were far from perfect, but they were a good bunch, and he was slowly starting to earn their trust, helping them understand it was okay to keep on living without their fallen comrade. Ash was still being a dick, but he hadn’t brought up Dex’s relationship or anything personal that hit a sore spot. He figured Sloane had something to do with that. The problem was, they were waiting for permission, permission that should have come from their Team Leader.

Dex opened his locker, got out his toiletry bag and tossed it on the steel bench behind him. Maybe one of these days he’d try to have a talk with Sloane. It was still too early in their partnership for him to not get flung out a window for broaching the subject. It had only been a week, but they were definitely getting along better, and Dex had even managed to make the guy laugh on more than one occasion. Smiling suited Sloane. It was a shame he didn’t do it more often. There was a pretty wicked sense of humor and who knew what else buried underneath all the pain and anguish. Dex wondered, if he dug deep enough, if he might be able to find the guy Sloane used to be. His phone rang, snapping him from his thoughts. Picking it up, he frowned at the unfamiliar number.

“Hello?”

“Daley?”

“Speaking,” he murmured, trying to place the familiar voice.

“It’s Isaac Pearce.”

“Oh, hey, man. Sorry, I’m a little out of it at the moment.” He began to undress as he spoke, his muscles protesting every movement.

“Rough day?”

“Rough week,” Dex replied with a groan, wrapping a towel around his waist and taking a seat on the bench, his bare feet chilled against the rubber-tiled floor. “How’ve you been?”

“Good. I hope you don’t mind that I got your number from the captain. I realized I forgot to ask you on your last day. I was calling about that coffee.”

Dex blinked. “Oh.”