Fractured

“Listen to me, man, this girl sounds like something special. Go back home once you’re done in a couple of weeks, and when you do, make sure she fucking knows you’re serious,” Grim tells me. His expression is so serious, confident that this will work.

“I feel like a fucking pussy worried about this shit,” I tell him, running my fingers through my short hair. When I started training, Grim cut my hair into a short crop, which is so close to my head, it still feels strange when I touch it.

Grim chuckles. “Not a pussy at all. If you love someone, it makes you far stronger than us who don’t.”

“You really haven’t ever been in love?”

“Oh, I have been,” he tells me before gulping down his water. “But when I went home on my first break, I found her riding my best friend’s dick.” He shrugs it off as if it’s nothing, but his eyes give him away.

“God, that’s fucking shit, man. I’m sorry.” The thought of seeing Autumn with any other man causes jealousy to take hold of me, and a rage simmers under my skin. I follow Grim outside as he has his morning smoke. Even though I don’t partake, I keep him company, watching the sky turn from a dark purple into a mesh of pinks and blues.

With every sunrise and each sunset, I know I’m getting closer to finishing my training. I haven’t been in contact with anyone since I left, and I hope that after completing these ten months, I’ll be able to easily walk into a job at Cole Security.

“Lover Boy,” Grim calls, catching my attention. Shit, that goddamned name is sticking to me like glue. He chuckles when I roll my eyes. “Don’t worry so much. Those fucking frown lines are going to make you look older than sarge at the end of this.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I laugh, but my smile falls when I see Renard sauntering toward us, and we both stand to attention. He looks like someone killed his cat. Not that he’s a pleasant man on a normal day, but as he nears us, his expression is pure pain.

“Montagu,” he grits out, “come with me.” He turns and heads inside. My chest tightens at the way he’s acting. With a quick glance at Grim who shrugs, I make my way into the building and find Renard in the office.

He settles behind the desk, his hands clasped together on the smooth wooden surface before he looks up at me. “There’s been news,” he tells me, but he doesn’t continue.

“News, sir?”

“Sit.” The order is gruff, and I obey, settling in the chair facing his desk. I’ve never seen this man in such a strange mood. He’s usually serious, never laughs, but this is something else. My stomach twists into a knot at what it might be.

My mind immediately goes to Autumn, but he wouldn’t know about her. I wait, holding my breath as he leans forward with a sigh.

“I’ve just finished a call from one of your dad’s colleagues. He was working a case which . . .” Once again, he sighs, and I want to scream at him to just tell me what the fuck is going on, but I don’t. I wait. “He’s been killed in the line of duty.” The words come out, knocking the wind from my lungs.

“What?” My voice comes out as a croak filled with pain, causing me to fail to properly address him, which he ignores.

“Your father was killed last night,” Renard tells me. “I’m so sorry, James,” he says, shaking his head sadly. But what he’s saying doesn’t make sense. My father is one of the strongest, most pig-headed men I know, and for him to get himself killed isn’t something that makes sense to me.

“What happened, sir?”

“He was working an undercover trafficking ring,” he tells me. “They found out he was a mole, and they . . .” His words filter off into nothing, and I’m left with my eyes burning. I never got along with my dad, it’s no secret, but to hear he’s been killed hits differently.

“I . . . I don’t know what to say, sir.” My voice cracks, the pain in my heart, in my chest, only intensifies. It feels strange to feel sadness for a man who’s never offered me affection, who’s never really been a father to me. But I do.

“You’ll be relieved of all duties today. If you choose to return, you’re welcome, but I know that this wasn’t something you had wanted to do in the first place.”

“How did you know, sir?”

For the first time since I’ve been here, Renard smiles. “I’ve seen many young men walk in here, some more excited than others, but you didn’t come here because you wanted to. Your heart was never in this life,” he tells me, and for a moment, I wish my father had seen what Renard sees. It’s as if this man is reading me like a book.