Page 210 of Unexpected Heroine

“Yes. Thank you,” I choke out, voice shaky.

When we stand, I give her a big hug. Turns out, Simone’s hugs are worth the pain too.

Chapter 37

Can't stop. Won't stop

TOMER

Klein stops at the doorway to the lair, bobbing his index finger in front of his eye like a windshield wiper. “Doth my eyes deceive me?”

Overdramatic idiot.

“Yes. I’m here.” I spread my arms to the sides. “Eat your heart out.”

I took yesterday off to keep searching for Yev. He’s proving to be a slippery fucker. But when I see Shep this week, we’ll figure something out. He’ll have to go see Yuri. If he’ll let me, I’d like to go along too. For one, someone needs to hold Shep back from Yuri. And for two, if Shep’s going after him, I need to get a few punches in before he kills him.

Kidding.

Probably.

Klein bounds into the office, effusing glee from every pore. “Good morning. Nice to see you, man.”

Clearly.

After setting his shit down on the desk, he grabs my shoulders, squeezing and shaking me vigorously. Although I’m happy to see him—which I’ll never admit—I might punch him in the throat if he doesn’t calm down.

“Does this mean your back? Or is this another random pop-in like the other day when you saved our asses?” He straightens both arms toward me. “To be clear, either is fine. No rush. We’re handling everything without you. You be wherever you need to be.”

My eyes go for a roll around my skull. “Tone it down a notch or two, Captain Compassion. I’m back. Leave it at that.”

Mostly. I reserve the right to leave if the need arises.

Specifically, if Lettie needs me, or if I get a lead on Yev or Viktor that’s too good to pass by.

Klein’s shoulders roll back, and he wobbles his jaw. “Hmm. I like that.” Making a fist, he bends his arm, bringing it close to his midsection, and looks toward the ceiling in a superhero pose. “Captain Compassion. Bringing emotional support to the masses.” He relaxes his posture, laughing at himself before settling into his chair.

“Nice. I’ll have Sawyer put it on a door sign for you.” I sip my coffee, angling my head for a better look out the door into the hallway. “Where’s Mia?”

“She took yesterday and today off to recover. Perhaps tomorrow. We’ll see how she’s feeling.”

“I thought her injuries were superficial.”

“The way she was bound to the chair caused some delayed onset soreness of her muscles and joints. And she ended up with a fair amount of bruising. Some ligature marks.” He leans closer. “I get the feeling she doesn’t want people to see her weak or wounded.” He puts up air quotes.

My brow furrows instantly. “What? She’s the farthest thing from weak.”

“Agreed.” He pats his chest. “Preaching to the choir. But I get it. She’s a woman in a male-dominated field. And she’s still new here. She doesn’t want to appear frail or soft. I told her there’s nothing about what happened that would make her look inadequate, but...”

“If anything, it’s the opposite,” I offer.

My gut twists at the idea of Mia in pain or battered. Not to mention her thinking of herself as being perceived as lacking.

“Exactly.” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Women, am I right?” His body tenses. “Pretend I didn’t say that. It was an errant thought. My mother would kill me if she heard that.”

“How is your mom?”

With his coffee cup halfway to his mouth, he freezes. “Tomer Stillman. Are you taking an interest in... personal matters?”

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