Page 50 of Tattletale

“I saidwhen we were together, didn’t I?” Callen rebuttals. “Bottom line, I couldn’t figure out why we ended. Yeah, the military took me away a lot. I get she was lonely, but there are military families all over the world who stay together. After wesigned the divorce papers, she said the thing that bothered her the most was that I never fought for her. When she was mad, I gave her space, thinking it was better to let her cool down.”

“She didn’t like that?”

Callen shrugs. “I guess it made me look passive, like I didn’t care if she was upset. I mean, I did. I was just trying not to make it worse and get my head bit off. Looking back, had I followed her out of more rooms, or risked calling after a fight, even if I knew she didn’t want to answer… I don’t know. Maybe I’d still be married today. She just wanted the effort, man.”

“Huh,” I muse.Interesting. Fight harder…

“I disagree,” Linc chimes in. “Maybe that’s the right move for a woman who isn’t as stabby, but Cricket’s going through her shit. You need to give her time and space to figure out whatever this is. Trust her to come through it on her own, or you’re going to push her away even more.”

Also, sound advice.“Could you fuckers do me a favor and get on the same page?”

Callen laughs. “I’m just saying—”

The door to the break room opens and we’re interrupted yet again. This time, it’s Cricket at the entryway. Damn. She still takes my breath away. She’s dressed up as well, wearing a sleek, sexy, black turtleneck dress paired with black stilettos. Her sleeveless dress hugs her body tightly and stops just above her knee. She has her thick, long, blond hair secured in a neat bun. Her attire makes her look intelligent, powerful, and somewhat lethal. It’s an apt look for her.

She makes eye contact with each of us, trying to read the room. “Anybody else know why Vesper told us to be here at six thirty a.m., yet she’s taking her sweet time?”

“Not a clue,” Callen says. I wish he’d wipe that deer-in-headlights look off his face. He’s giving us away.

“How are you feeling today? Can I get you a coffee?” I ask, taking a step forward to collect an empty mug.

Cricket wordlessly holds up the takeout cup in her hand. She wiggles it, proving it’s empty, before tossing it in the nearby trash.

“Right,” I say under my breath.

“What were you guys all talking about?” she asks.

“Fishing,” Linc says.

“Sports,” Callen adds at the same time.

I exhale, running my hand over my face. “Fishing as a sport, and the ethics of catch and release,” I quickly explain.

Cricket narrows her eyes. “Okay, well, I’ll see you guys in the meeting room then.” She turns back around, but with Callen’s advice knocking around in my head, I quickly bolt to the door. Sliding in front of her and blocking her escape, I give her a pointed stare. “We need to talk.”

“Move.” Her tone is stone cold. “Please.”

“No. Enough is enough. I’ve given you time, and now, we need to work this out, Cricket. End of story. We’re not leaving this room until you at least tell me how you’re feeling.” I grab her wrist tightly, hoping she can feel the desperation in my touch. If she wants me to grovel, I’ll grovel. If she wants me to beg, I will. Whatever I need to do to fix this.

She wraps her hand tightly around my wrist, and I misread her intentions. Taking it as some form of affection, I relax my own grip. As soon as I do, Cricket twists my arm and spins me around. With my elbow bent at an unnatural angle, I’m helpless as she shoves me hard against the closed door. The next second, there’s a sharp thud about an inch from where my face is smashed against the door. I glance right at the gray metal blade of the old military knife she always carries around. She taps the edge of the handle. Cricket drove it into the wood with such force, it doesn’t even wiggle.

“Next time you grab me, I promise you, my aim will improve.” Cricket releases me. “Now, get out of my way.”

As soon as I step aside, she slips through the door, slamming it behind her. I turn around to face the peanut gallery. Callen has his lips sucked in, still looking like a startled deer. Linc’s eyes are on the ground, and he’s shaking his head.

“Should we have intervened?” Callen asks, a bemused smile growing on his face. “You could’ve gotten out of that if she didn’t let go, right?”

Not without hurting her. So, no.“You guys are the worst.”

“See? This is what happens when you take Callen’s advice,” Linc murmurs. He crosses the room and rips Cricket’s knife out of the door with one strong pull. He folds it so the blade is secured against the handle. After swiveling it in his palm, he hands it to me. “I told you. Give her time.”

THIRTEEN

CRICKET

The entire coreteam is gathered around the PALADIN headquarters meeting room. We’re all clustered on one side of the long table, waiting for our guest of honor to arrive with Vesper. We’ve been waiting around for half an hour. None of us are amused at the theatrics of a fashionably late arrival.

Callen sits beside me. Linc, with his arm around Eden’s shoulders, is sitting across from me. And Lance is sitting at the end of the table, alone. He’s closer than I’d like him to be. I can smell him—that sinfully delectable cologne that now reminds me of his muscular, naked body pressed into mine.

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