The General (Professionals 4)

“I don’t think we can be in a relationship – a healthy relationship – if we try to keep our ugly from each other.”

“That’s probably true,” he agreed. “Having nightmares about the beatings?” he asked, point-blank, something he never did, shocking enough to make me stiffen a bit, having to actively force myself to calm back down again.

“Yes. It’s not usually that bad,” I added. “Why do you get out of bed? Are you afraid you might hurt me?

“Christ, no,” he said, sounding like the very idea pained him. “I just can’t get back to sleep after one. And I’ve found I am less likely to have back-to-back nightmare nights if I don’t stay in bed and harp on it, if I get up instead and get something accomplished. Workout. Go into the workshop. Something. What?” he asked when a completely inappropriate smile pulled at my lips.

“We’re quite a pair, huh?” I asked, shaking my head.

His arm reached out, dragging me back to his side. “Our demons recognize each other,” he said, kissing my temple. “I think that is a good thing.”

And it was.

Smith – 5 weeks

“Get your ass in here,” Quin’s voice snapped in my ear, making me fold up in bed, wiping at my dry eyes as Jenny rolled over, looked up at me.

“Something wrong?”

“Quin has his ‘what the fuck’ voice on,” I told her, leaning down to press a kiss into her temple. “I will call as soon as I know something.”

I climbed out of bed in Jenny’s house, shrugging into my clothes, then making my way out.

We switched.

My house and hers.

Spreading our newfound relationship everywhere that we were allowed to.

The air outside had the chill of winter with the promise of spring. And as I made my way to the office, I couldn’t help but think that maybe in the summer, Jenny and I could walk around Navesink Bank holding hands instead of pretending we were just boss and employee still.

Though, to be honest, Jenny got off on the boss.employee thing in bed sometimes. So there was a silver lining in every cloud.

“Any idea what is going on?” I asked Jules as I stepped inside the office, seeing only the wide eyes, the worry line across her forehead.

Whatever it was, it had Jules worried.

It had to be big.

“Everyone is in Quin’s office,” she told me, pressing a mug of coffee into my hands and shooing me away.

I walked into Quin’s office – one almost as familiar as my own, finding our team standing around, arms crossed, brows furrowed.

My gaze sought Quin.

Who was standing out front his own desk, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

Why the hell wouldn’t he be at his own desk?

On that thought, my gaze shifted to where you would usually find him.

And I found out why he wasn’t seated there.

Because someone else was.

And she was leaned back in his chair, her feet kicked up on his desk, tossing his quartz paperweight up in the air over and over, looking very much like she hadn’t a care in the world.

She was maybe in her mid-twenties, dark-skinned, dark-eyed, long of leg which she had clad in simple black skinny jeans that met her red Chucks. Her black hair was freely curling around her shoulders, shifting around her white tee as she tossed the ball.

“Everyone is here now,” Quin said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, now that is not a good way to start out relationship, is it, Quin? By lying to me,” she clarified, shaking her head at him.

Across from me, Gunner looked like he was actively trying not to laugh, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he knew more about her than I did, or he simply found the entire office of fixers and ex-military being held captive by a young woman hilarious.

Yeah, it was probably the latter.

This was Gunner we were talking about.

“Who isn’t here?” Quin shot back.

“A big man from an even bigger set of woods,” the unknown woman supplied.

“You showed up here an hour ago,” Quin reasoned. “It takes over two for him to get here.”

“That would be true if I didn’t know for a fact that he is already here. His car passed through the tollbooth about twenty minutes ago. Because you have a meeting set up with him. So, the way I see it, you are lying to me and you didn’t text him at all like you pretended to, or the text tipped him off. Let’s see, shall we?” she asked, pulling out her phone, tapping away at it for a long moment while the rest of us shared looks, no one knowing what the fuck was going on, but not exactly worried enough yet to draw weapons. “Here it is. Our friend Quin here texted Ranger one-hour-and-three-minutes ago saying: Wolf in the henhouse. Window building next door. Rifle. Just in case. Well, now, that is definitely not how we forge friendships.”